On Monday, NPR aired a story on the question of what’s the proper way to pronounce the year 2010. Is it “two-thousand ten,” or “twenty ten”?
To me, the answer is obviously the latter. The only reason we’ve been saying “two-thousand one,” “two-thousand two,” etc., is because it feels awkward to say “twenty-oh-one,” “twenty-oh-two,” and so forth. (For some reason, “nineteen-oh-one” doesn’t feel so verbally awkward, and neither will “twenty-one-oh-one.” Yet “twenty-oh-one” sounds horrible. I’m not sure why. Possibly because “twenty” ends with a vowel sound?)
But of course, you can’t simply call 2001 “twenty-one,” or 2009 “twenty-nine,” because those are completely different numbers (21, 29). So, instead of the awkward “twenty-oh-nine” or the incorrect “twenty-nine,” we’ve been using the longer (but not too long) “two thousand nine.” No “oh,” no inaccuracy. Hence: the terrorist attacks of September 11, two-thousand one. George W. Bush’s victory in the two-thousand four election. The epic USC-Notre Dame game on October 15, two-thousand five. The financial crisis of two-thousand eight. Et cetera, et cetera.
The “twenty-oh-whatever” verbal awkwardness goes away next year, though — and meanwhile, the “two thousand”-based pronunciations start to get more and more unwieldy. When will it end, if not now? Two thousand eleven? Two thousand nineteen? Two thousand twenty-one? Two thousand one hundred one? Surely we will, at some point, revert to the pronunciation scheme that we’ve used throughout modern history, splitting the year’s number into two parts of two digits each. And, since it’s going to happen sometime, there’s no reason on God’s green earth why it shouldn’t happen next year, what with the disappearance of the “oh” removing the sole reason we got into this linguistic mess in the first place.
At least, I don’t think there’s a reason. What’s frustrating about the NPR story, though, is that it doesn’t really address this issue, or provide any reasonable counterarguments for why 2010 actually should be called “two thousand ten.” Maybe that’s because there are no such arguments, but surely the advocates of this position can do better than some guy (Jim Burk) citing 2001: A Space Odyssey — which is totally irrelevant because, as I’ve stated above, 2001 is a completely different case, due to that awkward intervening “oh” before the “one” — and some other guy (Jimm Lasser) saying it’s more “grownup” to use the longer form instead of the “nickname.” (Did “grownups” call 1999 “one thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine”? Was “nineteen ninety-nine” a “nickname”? Will “grownups” call 2086 “two thousand eighty-six”? Will they call 2234 “two thousand, two hundred thirty-four”? Why didn’t Robert Siegel ask Mr. Lasser these questions?)
By the way: what did they call it in 2010: Odyssey Two? That’s obviously the correct reference, notwithstanding Mr. Burk’s silly reference to the irrelevant original movie. But I don’t recall: was it called twenty-ten or two-thousand-ten in the sequel? Anyone know?
One good argument is that when you are counting, you don’t count it as twenty ten, but two thousand ten 🙂
No, that’s not a good argument, because it doesn’t attempt to explain why 1999 was universally called nineteen ninety-nine, instead of one thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine.
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Brendan’s analysis overlooks the fact that the unwieldiness of “One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ten” relative to “Nineteen Ten” is larger than the unwieldiness of “Two Thousand and Ten” relative to “Twenty Ten”. This is obviously due to the fact that “One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ten” requires an extra concept (e.g. the Nine Hundred) vs.”Two Thousand and Ten”.
Does the distinction matter? To my ear, One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ten is surely wa-a-a-a-y too long, but Two Thousand and Ten is a more borderline call vs. Twenty Ten. I personally like Two Thousand and Ten better, because it sounds elegant, and at a time when the whole world is going to hell, a bit of elegance in the vernacular is a good thing. Am I willing to absorb the inconvenience relative to Twenty Ten?
I think so. But let’s do talk again in 2101, which will surely be Twenty-One oh One and not the horrid Two Thousand One Hundred and One. (Further, this recession may even have ended by 2101, thus obviating the necessity of casual elegance).
this recession may even have ended by 2101
LOL.
Actually, by 2101, President For Life Obama will have outlawed recessions in the United Socialist States of America. Sarah Palin warned us!!!
Because that is the societally accepted paradigm for dealing with time and or dates. More specifically the grammatically accepted paradigm for large numbers is different than that for the date–possibly, we’ll get to that.
However, in a formal context the grammar tends to revert back to the “correct” form employed for large numbers. e.g. “I present to you the graduating class of nineteen hundred and ninety nine”. Which, actually, goes to David’s potentially valid point, the one I said I would get back to. Which is that the year paradigm for this millennia is not yet set. Nineteen ninety nine isn’t short hand for one thousand nine hundred and ninety nine. It is short hand for nineteen hundred ninety nine. Twenty hundred tends not to be an accepted form where as 11 hundred fifty seven is. However, 10 hundred is also not acceptable though ten sixty six is an accepted form.
In short. As far as language and grammar are concerned dates are different. But don’t forget it is simply a societal convention. Which means that the debate, in terms of what will get picked up, is valid. Though unlikely to favor the two thousand ten crowed in the long run such an eventuality is certainly both conceivable and more grammatical.
Let me just remind you of something . . .
“In AD Twenty-one oh one (2101), war was beginning.”
“What happen?!?!”
“Someone set up us the bomb.”
“We get signal.”
“Its you!”
CATS: “How are you gentlemen?
“All Your Base Are Belong To Us.
“You are on the way to destruction”
“What you say?!?!?!”
“You have no chance to survive, make your time! HA HA HA HA!”
The sad part is I did that completely from memory. But it proves my point that it is twenty ten, not two thousand and ten.
I understand the logic in twenty-ten, but I don’t believe that people in 1010 called it ten-ten, not after 900 years of saying “hundred” are they going to now pass up the opportunity to say thousand in stating the date. I’m going with the two thousand ten/eleven/twelve deal, and when we get to 2101 I’ll go back to the twenty-one o’one. It’s just not practical American english to say twenty-ten, and proper english has never been an enforceable attribute in this country. The influence of rap music on our American vocabulary alone makes me wonder if grade school English will be a class that any student will be able to pass by the time 2020 rolls around. Pronounce that however you wish.
Sandy, without even thinking, as I was reading your comment, I mentally read it as “by the time twenty-twenty rolls around.”
I suspect there will be a lot of inconsistency on this issue until 2013, at which point “twenty-thirteen” will become the dominant usage by far. Something about “ten” and “twelve” being monosyllabic, and “eleven” starting with a vowel, gives the “two-thousand” form a bit of a foothold for the first three years of the 2010s, but once we get into the “teen” years, it’ll be all over.
Brendan, this question is not exactly unPrecedented. To cite just one example from very Recent history, your paternal grandfather always told me (and I’ve no reason to Doubt him 🙂 that he was born in “Nineteen Ten.” For me, that settles the matter: I will remark the centennial of my Dad’s birth in March of Twenty Ten. (Notwithstanding that some of Dad’s contemporaries might have named his birth-year as “Nineteen and Ten”; and, enviously, that of his comely young bride as “Nineteen and Twenty-four.” 🙂
MARTY: Where are we? When are we?
DOC: We’re descending toward Hill Valley, California, at 4:29 pm, on Wednesday, October 21st, two thousand fifteen.
MARTY: Two thousand fifteen? You mean we’re in the future?
JENNIFER: Future? Marty, what do you mean? How can we be in the future?
MARTY: Uh, Jennifer, um, I don’t know how to tell you this, but, uh . . . you’re in a time machine.
JENNIFER: And this is the year two thousand fifteen?
DOC: October 21st, two thousand fifteen.
Despite this, I’m going to say “twenty-ten.” So have most of the idiots I know (who unfortunately are nevertheless my friends and family) who’ve bought into the Mayan-calendar nonsense. They virtually all call it “twenty-twelve.” As a nonbeliever in that hokum, someone else can tell me what it calls itself, because my word for it is a lot less polite.
The scariest part of 2012 is that I pronounce it “twenty-twelve” as well. This could be the downfall of my Two Thousands dream. Maybe that was the Mayan’s plan all along. Damn them!
“No, that’s not a good argument, because it doesn’t attempt to explain why 1999 was universally called nineteen ninety-nine, instead of one thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine.”
Just because we were wrong for hundreds of years doesn’t mean we should keep being wrong? 🙂
“Just because we were wrong for hundreds of years doesn’t mean we should keep being wrong? :)” ~ David K
“Of course it does & of course we should.” / ~the Conservatives ;>
Agree with Sandy @13 that 2012 is “twenty twelve” and not “two thousand twelve”. Could pretty much finish the thousand conceit right there.
Maybe this is the real reason the Mayan calendar ended at that time. Those folks just had no sense for abbreviation.
Article 1 Section 9 of the US Constitution forbids the regulation of slavery until 1808, and says “one thousand eight hundred and eight”.
hiya
Just saying hello while I read through the posts
hopefully this is just what im looking for looks like i have a lot to read.