Ands and ampersands
As a writer who’s worked with designers throughout most of my career, I am used to having my work doctored up to look pretty, regardless of the proper way to write something. And you know what? I’m often fine with that; why shouldn’t my stuff be as sexy and good looking as the next writer’s stuff? After all, sexy stuff sells. Good-looking stuff sells. And I want my stuff to sell. Right?
Um — well, of course I want my writing to be so amazing that it gets my clients’ products or services to fly off the proverbial shelves. But linear logic doesn’t work so well in this scenario. Integrity calls my name and yanks at my heartstrings, imploring me to stay true to the red-covered AP Stylebook that is never far away from my computer. And who am I to argue with integrity?
So, to the point: The ampersand (&), that curly-cue symbol that the vast majority of designers deem sufficient to take and’s place is not (I repeat not) sufficient to take and’s place.
Pretzel ampersand, minus the warm cheese
The AP Stylebook clearly states that the ampersand is not to be used as a substitute for the word and. Its only sanctioned use is when it is officially part of a company’s name or within a composition title:
• Tiffany & Co.
• Barnes & Noble
• House & Garden
• Road & Track
• Shakespeare & Company
• “April & Oliver”
• “Design & Composition Secrets of Professional Artists: 16 Successful Painters Show How They Create Prize-Winning Work”
So when it comes to trying to create a lovely image versus doing the right thing, I err on the side of — you guessed it — the right thing. I would, of course, make an exception if it were a heavily designed ad with only three or so words (one of them being and) in a 72-point font and if the designer swore up and down that the client insisted on an ampersand. But that’s it. If the worry is a space issue, kerning is always an option.
Easy schmeezy.
Happy trails!
SAK
Tags: &, ampersand, AP Stylebook, company name, composition title, kern
This may be a dumb question- but if the ampersand isn’t to be used in place of and, what is its purpose?
Not a dumb question. Its purpose lies in the choice of those particular companies or authors who choose it to represent the word “and.” Just as a company can choose to name itself using any spelling they’d like (such as Kwik Shop, Takhoma Burger and Kumon — which, BTW, is my new least-favorite signage; what were they thinking?), so can they choose to use an ampersand incorrectly (per AP Stylebook regulations). It’s a design choice for them and, since they’re paying the bills, what they say goes. I actually really dig the look of the ampersand, but you know me and my AP penchant!
The pretzel is not an ampersand. It is a deformed treble clef. And per se and should be &.
Good eye! The ampersand is in the eye of the beholder, it seems. However, I stand by this pretzel as an ampersand. Although it does have an extra bit hanging in the middle, which is reminiscent of the treble clef, the bit that dangles isn’t long enough and doesn’t curl at the end. Really, it could loosely pass as either symbol; I just thought it was a more interesting image than using a typical font, such as Comic Sans or Courier.
Here’s some more background on the ampersand, directly from Wikipedia:
The word ampersand is a corruption of the phrase “and per se and,” meaning “and [the symbol which] by itself [is] and.” The Scots and Scottish English name for “&” is “epershand,” derived from “et per se and,” with the same meaning.
Traditionally, in English-speaking schools when reciting the alphabet, any letter that could also be used as a word in itself (”A,” “I,” “&” and, at one point, “O”) was preceded by the Latin expression “per se” (Latin for “by itself”). Also, it was common practice to add at the end of the alphabet the “&” sign, pronounced “and.” Thus, the recitation of the alphabet would end in: “X, Y, Z and per se and.” This last phrase was routinely slurred to “ampersand” and the term crept into common English usage by around 1837.