You Can Say That Again

From the Department of Redundancy Department

Welcome to “Off the Clock,” the fortnightly Saturday edition of Timeless & Timely that’s a fun look at language and words.

This is one for the word nerds out there. It’s available to our VIPs, who get all of this. Join them:

Stereograph of a young woman using a stereoscope, the popular 3D technology of the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth century. Courtesy of Library of Congress

There are certain words — acronyms, really — that when we use them in conversation don’t make as much sense when we stop to think about it.

Not because the acronym itself isn’t right, but because of what we pair it with. That is, when we follow an acronym with a word that’s in the acronym.

If you do this, you might be suffering from RAS Syndrome. Yes, that’s Redundant Acronym Syndrome syndrome.

How ironic.

Incidentally, RAS syndrome is an autological word: a word that expresses a property that it also possesses. Like “pentasyllabic” is a five-syllable word.

Anyway, I’m sure you’ve seen common examples of RAS syndrome in the wild. Here are a few:

ATM machine

Automated Teller Machine

VIN number

Vehicle Identification Number

LCD display

Liquid Crystal Display

PIN number

Personal Identification Number

DC Comics

Detective Comics

HIV virus

Human Immunodeficiency Virus

UPC code

Universal Product Code

ISBN number

International Standard Book Number

MLS soccer

Major League Soccer

While I have you here, I’d like to point out two of the acronyms above as slightly different from the others. Do you know which two?

If you guessed PIN number and VIN number you’re onto something.

As you say these acronyms (or think them in your head), notice they’re not P-I-N and V-I-N; they’re “pin” and “vin.”

These are the true acronyms of the group — when letters are put together and said like a word. You’d recognize acronyms such as radar (radio detection and ranging), laser (light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation), NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization), and AIDS (Acquired immunodeficiency syndrome).

The rest of the list is made up of initialisms — when initials are pronounced like individual letters. You’d immediately recognize other initialisms such as FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), VIP (very important person), VAT (value added tax), and LOL (laugh out loud). You say those letters individually.

And of course, you don’t say “LOL” in conversation.

Oh, and for you style nerds out there, if you’re a copy editor with The New Yorker, you’d have R.A.S. syndrome.

But that’s a topic for an entirely different entry.

There’s so much to learn,