You joined the OED editorial team in 1976. Can you take a quick trip down memory lane and highlight some of the key advances that have occurred in the field of historical lexicography since you’ve been on board? The last 30 years have seen big changes in historical lexicography. But you have to remember that the basic analytical processes have remained the same since the days of OED1 (1884-1928). We still compose definitions in much the same way, and use the same techniques for developing a macrostructure for each entry. But enormous changes have taken place in the accessibility of the data we’re analyzing, the availability of high-quality (and low-quality) reference resources, and in the fact that editors create and revise their entries on computer. In the old days, entries were largely compiled from the lexical evidence on index cards (or ‘slips’) available to us from our reading programs. Nowadays we still have these, but they are supplemented by a host of historical and contemporary materials available online. A massive number of printed texts from the dawn of printing in the 15th century right up to the modern period can be searched online—and this has had a profound effect on our ability to report accurately on the development of English over the centuries. This is backed up by the large-scale research resources that have become available over the last 30 years. Over this time the French and the Dutch have completed their big historical dictionaries; other national dictionaries are nearing completion and are available to us online; individual scholars have produced important surveys of the vocabulary of their subject; and of course there’s a lot of information (some good, some more wobbly) out there on the Internet. All of this has an impact on the OED. Historical lexicography involves harnessing whatever material is available, and then using that to craft dictionary entries. The issues are usually based about seeing the wood for the trees—but that’s what we’re pretty good at! Can you briefly explain the editorial process and your own role? The Chief Editor’s role is to set editorial policy and to lead the editorial work. To this end I both edit important entries from scratch and (along with my colleague Ed Weiner, the Deputy Chief Editor) review the work of other editors before publication. With over 70 editors producing text for publication, it’s important that it’s in good shape before it comes to us for review. All the same, there are always things that an experienced eye can spot. I start by disbelieving everything in front of me, and making it prove its worth. Is the definition accurate and well-written? Does it mesh with the facts as illustrated by the evidence? Have we traced each term back to its origins (as far as we are able)? Do the etymological details fit in with the facts about the word’s subsequent development in English? Have we missed any important compounds or subsenses? Does the final entry “feel” right? I can’t explain this last bit without turning mystic, but it’s an important element. Once all the conditions are met, we can publish. If you grapple with the English language in such painstaking detail, can you ever really break away from it? If someone misuses a word in a conversation, do you get the urge to correct them? You have to be a pretty structured person to be a good lexicographer. It’s no good trying to describe the English language in the detail we do if you just “love words.” So part of the business of becoming a lexicographer is being able to stand back from the mass of language data which surrounds you at work and in real life. You must be objective. Of course your brain clicks every time you see ‘noticeable’ written down (is it spelled right?) or hear a strange pronunciation (interesting or a one-off?). But you need to get a grip if that starts to affect your real life. Language pedants can be pretty impossible (I know, because they write to us!). What are some of the qualities you look for in a would-be OED editor? OED editors come from all sorts of backgrounds, but the key attributes we look for are analytical ability, a historical sense (and curiosity), speed, accuracy, and a great writing style. They also need to know when to call a halt to their research. Iron will? Mr. Spock-like consistency? That’s asking a bit much—but what we do need is quite an unusual mix. What new words is your team working on these days that have not yet appeared in the dictionary? From time to time I check how work on recent terms is going. Last week I checked our database to see where the expression “route one” had got to. That’s soccer-speak for the direct route to goal (rather than all that clever passing of the ball around). So far we’ve tracked it back to 1989, but maybe it’ll go back further before it’s finalized for publication. An old word we’re revising is ‘World Series’ (in baseball). The modern competition dates from 1903, so I was puzzled to find references to the expression in American newspapers from the 1880s. But it soon became clear that the modern World Series was preceded by the World Championship Series, dating from that time. So that solved that little problem. And contributors often send in improvements to the dictionary. Yesterday I received some fascinating early references to surfing vocabulary (for the late 18th and early 19th century), predating the information we currently have in the OED. And then someone pointed out that ‘patriotical’ can be dated back to 1648 (which makes it earlier than ‘patriotic’). I’d better get back to the job, or it’ll all pile up.... [For more on the OED, also see Happy Birthday, OED and Q&A with publisher Casper Grathwohl]