Why have a letter in a word when it’s silent in pronunciation, like the b in debt?
Can anyone please clarify my uncertainty here?
English Language & Usage Stack Exchange is a question and answer site for linguists, etymologists, and serious English language enthusiasts. It only takes a minute to sign up.
Sign up to join this communityWhy have a letter in a word when it’s silent in pronunciation, like the b in debt?
Can anyone please clarify my uncertainty here?
In general, never trust words in the English language to be phonetic! This is largely a consequence of English being such a fast-evolving language, and importantly, owing its vocabulary to many linguistic sources: Latin, Old French, Anglo-Saxon (a.k.a. Old English), Norse, and many others.
In this case it seems we have French to thank. This etymology is given online, and explains the supposed strange pronunciation:
debt
late 13c., dette, from O.Fr. dete, from L. debitum “thing owed”, neut. pp. of debere “to owe”, originally, “keep something away from someone”, from de- “away” (see de-) + habere “to have” (see habit). Restored spelling after c.1400.
In other words, debt comes via the Old French dete, which itself derives from classical Latin debitum. The b sound got lost due to French phonological rules/convention, and hence the French-origin pronunciation in English. Evidently, after the end of the Middle Ages in the 15th century, there was much revived interest in the classical world, and the spelling reverted to include the original b. Pronunciation, of course, stayed the same.
(Note that this sort of evolution occurred with many different English words, and occurred at the same time many new Latin words entered the English language.)
dete
is from Old French, dette
is the modern French spelling.
– F'x
Jan 16 '11 at 12:13
One important and often overlooked reason for having silent letters in the spelling of English words is because spelling in English is meant to do much more than tell you how to pronounce a word. For one thing, it can also tell you about the history of the word, its origins and its evolution. Not all languages have this property in their written forms, but English does.
It can also serve to create heterographs out of homophones, which helps when reading. For example, consider the word pronounced /raɪt/
. That can be any of:
As soon as you see it on the printed page, you know which of those four words it is. You don’t have to puzzle it out. This increases reading speed and proficiency.
The other largely unsung reason for how English spelling helps you is because if you actually spelled things the way people said them, no one could ever read anything anyone else ever wrote! Well, nobody outside their own current dialect — if that.
Even using something like /raɪt/
doesn’t work to tell you how to say the word if you do not already know English. That’s because that is a phonemic transcription, not a phonetic transcription. Speaking broadly, phonetics is what people actually say, whereas phonemics is more like what people actually hear.
For example, when I think I am saying /raɪt/
, I am not. I actually pronounce all four of those words [ɹʷʌɪt]
— or often enough, simply [ɹʷʌɪʔ]
. You can also spell that [ɻʌɪʔ]
if you prefer.
It’s not an uncommon pronunciation, but there are many others:
[ɾɜit]
Hawick[ræ̠x̟tʰ]
Buckie[rɐit]
South Wales[rəit]
Coldstream[ʁɛ̈it]
Holy Island[ɹäˑɪt]
North Carolina, Nigeria (Igbo), Rossendale[ɹäˑɪʔ]
Morley[ɹäɛ̝̈tʰ]
South Africa: Johannesburg[ɹa̠it]
Longtown[ɹäi̞t]
Middlesbrough[ɹäɪt]
Alabama, Chicago[ɹäɪtʰ]
Received Pronunciation[ɹäɪt]
North Carolina[ɹä̝ɪt]
Ohio[ɹaɪθ̠]
Liverpool[ɹɐit]
Antrim, Belfast, Boston, Chicago[ɹɐiʔ]
Norwich[ɹɐɪt]
Cornhill[ɹ̝ɐɪt]
India: Delhi[ɹɐɪt]
Singapore[ɹɑ̈ë̞t]
Buxton[ɹɑ̟it̟̚]
New York[ɹɑ̈ɪ̠t]
Australia: Perth[ɹɑɪt]
North Devon[ɹɑ̈ɪt]
North Devon, New Zealand: Auckland[ɹɑɪt]
Somerset[ɹɑɪʔ]
London[ɹɑ̟ɪʔ]
North Devon[ɹəɪʔ]
Edinburgh[ɹə̟̝xt]
Edinburgh[ɹɛ̈ɪs̺̆]
Tyneside[ɹɛ̝̈xt]
Antrim[ɹɜitʰ]
Berwick[ɹɜ̟̆ıĭtʰ]
Tyrone[ɹiˑtʰ]
Tyneside[ɹʋ͡ɛ̈i̞ʰs̺̆]
Tyneside[ɹʌ̞̈it]
Edinburgh[ɹʌ̈itʰ]
Standard Scottish[ɹʌ̈ɪt̚]
Standard Canadian[ɻäiʰtʰ]
Lewis[ɻäɪtʰ]
Standard AmericanAs you can see from the list above, you do not have to spell English with “silent” letters. However, when you really do go to the trouble to spell it out phonetically, you thereby:
But because English has silent letters, none of that applies. This is a blessing, you know. You should be happy nearly to the point of being overjoyed that English has silent letters. They are a major win, and without them, we would all be lost.
I thought to quote this excellent overview of 'silent letters' herefrom.
Q[uestion]: Why do words like “caught,” “ought,” “thought,” “bought,” “naught,” “laugh,” and “should” have endings with no bearing on the way the words sound?
A[nswer]: I think you’ve asked a much larger and more complicated question than you realize!
Our spelling system began as an attempt to reproduce speech. But because most spellings became fixed centuries ago, they no longer reflect exact pronunciations.
As a result, spelling is about more than pronunciation; it also reflects a word’s meaning and etymology and history. And in the case of English words, their spellings often have very idiosyncratic histories hidden within.
You mention “caught,” “ought” and others. The appearance of “gh” in words like these is annoying to people who’d like to reform English spelling. Many wonder, for example, why “laughter” and “daughter” don’t rhyme. Well, they once did.
“Daughter” has had several pronunciations over the centuries, including DOCH-ter (with the first syllable like the Scottish “loch”), DAFF-ter (rhyming with “laughter’”) and DAW-ter. We know which one survived.
The Middle English letter combination “gh” is now pronounced either as “f” (as in “cough/trough/laugh/enough”) or not at all (“slaughter/daughter/ought/through,” etc.).
The word “night,” to use another example, went through dozens of spellings over 600 years, from nact and nigt and niht, and so on, eventually to “night” around 1300. It’s a cousin not only to the German nacht but probably to the Greek nyktos and the Old Irish innocht, among many others.
The odd-looking consonants in the middle of “night” (as well as “right” and “bright”) were once pronounced with a guttural sound somewhere between the modern “g” and “k.” But though the pronunciation moved on, the spelling remained frozen in time.
You also mention “should,” a word in which the letter “l” looks entirely superfluous. But the “l” in “should” and “would” was once pronounced (as it was in “walk,” “chalk,” “talk,” and other words).
Same goes for the “w” in “sword” and the “b” in “climb.” They were once pronounced. Similarly, the “k” in words like “knife,” “knee,” and “knave” was not originally silent. It was once softly pronounced. But while pronunciation changed, spelling did not.
There are several reasons that English spellings and pronunciations differ so markedly.
Much of our modern spelling had its foundation in the Middle English period (roughly 1100 to 1500). But in the late Middle English and early Modern English period (roughly 1350 to 1550), the pronunciation of vowels underwent a vast upheaval.
Linguists call this the Great Vowel Shift, and it’s too complicated to go into in much detail here. To use one example, before the Great Vowel Shift the word “food” sounded like FODE (rhymes with “road”).
Melinda J. Menzer’s Furman University webiste can tell you more about the Great Vowel Shift. I’ve also touched on it briefly in a blog item.
While the pronunciations of many words changed dramatically, their spellings remained largely the same. Why? Because printing, which was introduced into England in the late 1400s, helped retain and standardize those older spellings.
Complicating matters even further, the first English printer, William Caxton, employed typesetters from Holland who introduced their own oddities (the “h” in “ghost” is an example, borrowed from Flemish).
In addition, silent letters were introduced into some English words as afterthoughts to underscore their classical origins. This is why “debt” and “doubt” have a “b” (inserted to reflect their Latin ancestors debitum and dubitare).
Sometimes, a letter was erroneously added to reflect an imagined classical root. This is why “island” has an “s” (a mistaken connection to the Latin isola). I’ve written a blog entry about this.
Still other English spellings came about in the Middle Ages when scribes found that the letters “m,” “n,” “u,” and “i” caused readers difficulty because of all those vertical downstrokes of the pen (“m” + “I” was hard to tell from “n” + “u”). So “o” was substituted for “u” in words like “come,” “some,” “monk,” son,” and “wolf.”
Apart from ease of reading, “o” was sometimes swapped for “u” because, as Dennis Freeborn writes in his book From Old English to Standard English, “u was an overused letter. It represented the sound v as well as u, and uu was used for w.”
Another authority, David Crystal, has pointed out that England’s “civil service of French scribes” following the Norman Conquest in the 11th century also influenced the spelling of English words.
Crystal writes in his book The Fight for English that not only did consonants change (the French “qu” replaced the Old English “cw” in words like “queen,” to use just one example), but vowels “were written in a great number of ways.”
“Much of the irregularity of modern English spelling derives from the forcing together of Old English and French systems of spelling in the Middle Ages,” he says.
As you can see, this is a vast subject. In summary, spellings eventually settle into place and become standardized, but pronunciations are more mercurial and likely to change.
I’m sure I remember reading that some “redundant” letters were inserted into English words by early printers, simply to make the typesetting easier or to improve the visual appearance of the text. The example given was the ‘h’ in “ghost”, though while Oxford does indeed attribute that to an early printer, it suggests that the influence was a foreign spelling rather than practicality or aesthetics.