It’s time to stop the witless bunnies in IT and marketing (for it is them) forcing their own lame lexicons out into common usage. They’re not helping.
Preorder is a tautology, if ever there was one. You order something that isn’t ready, or which requires prior notice to become available. Something that isn’t there, yet. So we order a meal (it has to be cooked). Or a cab, which has to come from somewhere, to get to your door when you need it.
You can only preorder something if you are ordering an order, which is silly.
The prefix ‘pre’ is a pointless thing. It supposed to mean ‘done before’. But, think about it. Most words with the prefix ‘pre’ can have the prefix removed, but retain exactly the same meaning. For instance –
prearranged preprepared predetermined precut
precooked prepainted preprinted previewed
prerecorded preordainded preassembled prepackaged
And lately, we have these daft notions: prebooked or preordered. Another stunner is prewarned.
Note, all those examples can also have the prefix ‘un’. Any word that makes sense with the prefix ‘un’ takes no change in meaning from the prefix ‘pre’.
‘Pre’ only has real worth when the word has no ‘un’-defined opposite or antonym (keep up here, guys). As in prescient, previous, predicated, premise, preserve, prejudice, premier, preliminary, preparatory. And of course, prefix . Such words all imply something that has gone before, or been determined before, in some way or another.
The test is this: if you remove the ‘pre’ from the word to which you just attached it, do you change the meaning of the word? There is clearly no difference between order and preorder, or book and prebook. Between warn and prewarn.
Defenders of the pre prefix are generally unconvincing. With some difficulty, they pose a defence that is usually loosely attached to the idea that if you order something, you pay for it straightaway (the beer), but if you preorder something, you pay for it when it arrives (the 4 year old malt that isn't ready yet).
But, just as with the whiskey, you don’t pay for your beer until it arrives. It just arrives a bit quicker than the whiskey (unless you’re in the Cock Inn at Wing). You order a meal, but you don’t pay for it until after it has arrived and you’ve eaten it. Applying the pre prefix defenders’ logic, you should preorder a meal in a restaurant, as soon as you arrive. You should preorder a taxi. You should preorder a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover from Waterstones, because, although it’s been widely available since 1958, it’s just that they haven’t got a copy in stock and won’t take your money until you come to collect it.
I know what they think they mean, when they say ‘preorder’. They mean ‘reserve’. But the difference between ‘order’, ‘reserve’, and ‘book’ is negligible. They all mean the same thing: acknowledge my interest, prepare the goods for me, and make them available to me when they are ready.
Substitute ‘reserve’ or ‘book’ for the made-up word preorder, and it all makes perfect sense.
You order something in advance of its presence. The main course, for instance. You don’t order something from the dessert trolley, because it’s there in front of you. You simply ask for it. So, if you want something that is not yet present, you order it.
But what is different when you preorder something? What is your preorder in advance of? Your preorder is not in advance of payment, because that’s what an order is. Your preorder is not in advance of availability, because that’s what an order is. Is your preorder an order in advance of another order for the same thing? If it is, why?
I know how it happens: you buy something when it’s there. If it’s not there, but should be, you can order it. And if it’s not there, because it’s not yet available, you can’t order it, can you? How can you order something that’s not available yet? The computer can’t accept orders for something we haven’t got, can it?
But could you reserve it? Request it? Ah no, these are existing ordinary, simple words, unsuited to the specialness of our own important little world. We’ll invent a new process, a new condition, preorder. Our computer system can’t accept an order for something that isn’t available, but we’ve written the code that allows it to accept a preorder, so we’ll introduce the word to our sadly restricted business and personal vocabularies, and thus force it out into the world and common usage. And we’ll get a little glow from having coined a new word, unaware of the meaning of tautology.1
Like many tautologies, preorder, and its cousin prebook, have now become solecisms. Words used by people who think they’re being proper (or better) but who are sadly wrong. Solecisms include toilet instead of lavatory, serviette instead of napkin, lounge instead of sitting room, settee instead of sofa, soiled instead of dirty, along with kiddies, fish knives, doilies and making scone rhyme with bone instead of gone.2
Let’s do away with them now. Next time you’re asked if you’d like to prebook, or preorder, say ‘No thanks. I’d just like to book. Or to order, thanks’. If they look at you askance, explain, ‘To preorder would be preposterous.’
They won’t bloody understand you. But at least you’ll have used a longer word than them.
1 The fine irony is, their spellchecker will get repeatedly touchy about their new word, failing to find it in any of the 13 different versions of English dictionary currently included in Windows XP. And you won’t find it in the OED or Chambers, either. So there.
2 Yes, well spotted. Acknowledgements to J Betjeman.
Preorder is a tautology, if ever there was one. You order something that isn’t ready, or which requires prior notice to become available. Something that isn’t there, yet. So we order a meal (it has to be cooked). Or a cab, which has to come from somewhere, to get to your door when you need it.
You can only preorder something if you are ordering an order, which is silly.
The prefix ‘pre’ is a pointless thing. It supposed to mean ‘done before’. But, think about it. Most words with the prefix ‘pre’ can have the prefix removed, but retain exactly the same meaning. For instance –
prearranged preprepared predetermined precut
precooked prepainted preprinted previewed
prerecorded preordainded preassembled prepackaged
And lately, we have these daft notions: prebooked or preordered. Another stunner is prewarned.
Note, all those examples can also have the prefix ‘un’. Any word that makes sense with the prefix ‘un’ takes no change in meaning from the prefix ‘pre’.
‘Pre’ only has real worth when the word has no ‘un’-defined opposite or antonym (keep up here, guys). As in prescient, previous, predicated, premise, preserve, prejudice, premier, preliminary, preparatory. And of course, prefix . Such words all imply something that has gone before, or been determined before, in some way or another.
How did this word prehappen?
At some stage, somebody decided to extract the ‘pre’, and nail it in front of any old word. They shouldn't do it. The test is this: if you remove the ‘pre’ from the word to which you just attached it, do you change the meaning of the word? There is clearly no difference between order and preorder, or book and prebook. Between warn and prewarn.
Defenders of the pre prefix are generally unconvincing. With some difficulty, they pose a defence that is usually loosely attached to the idea that if you order something, you pay for it straightaway (the beer), but if you preorder something, you pay for it when it arrives (the 4 year old malt that isn't ready yet).
But, just as with the whiskey, you don’t pay for your beer until it arrives. It just arrives a bit quicker than the whiskey (unless you’re in the Cock Inn at Wing). You order a meal, but you don’t pay for it until after it has arrived and you’ve eaten it. Applying the pre prefix defenders’ logic, you should preorder a meal in a restaurant, as soon as you arrive. You should preorder a taxi. You should preorder a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover from Waterstones, because, although it’s been widely available since 1958, it’s just that they haven’t got a copy in stock and won’t take your money until you come to collect it.
I know what they think they mean, when they say ‘preorder’. They mean ‘reserve’. But the difference between ‘order’, ‘reserve’, and ‘book’ is negligible. They all mean the same thing: acknowledge my interest, prepare the goods for me, and make them available to me when they are ready.
Substitute ‘reserve’ or ‘book’ for the made-up word preorder, and it all makes perfect sense.
You order something in advance of its presence. The main course, for instance. You don’t order something from the dessert trolley, because it’s there in front of you. You simply ask for it. So, if you want something that is not yet present, you order it.
But what is different when you preorder something? What is your preorder in advance of? Your preorder is not in advance of payment, because that’s what an order is. Your preorder is not in advance of availability, because that’s what an order is. Is your preorder an order in advance of another order for the same thing? If it is, why?
Predeclining standards of literacy
Preorder is one of those non-words spawned not by intelligent and creative use of language, but by the artificial processes of businesses and computing, and the left-brain zombies who create those processes, aided and abetted by the shallow thinkers in marketing. I know how it happens: you buy something when it’s there. If it’s not there, but should be, you can order it. And if it’s not there, because it’s not yet available, you can’t order it, can you? How can you order something that’s not available yet? The computer can’t accept orders for something we haven’t got, can it?
But could you reserve it? Request it? Ah no, these are existing ordinary, simple words, unsuited to the specialness of our own important little world. We’ll invent a new process, a new condition, preorder. Our computer system can’t accept an order for something that isn’t available, but we’ve written the code that allows it to accept a preorder, so we’ll introduce the word to our sadly restricted business and personal vocabularies, and thus force it out into the world and common usage. And we’ll get a little glow from having coined a new word, unaware of the meaning of tautology.1
Like many tautologies, preorder, and its cousin prebook, have now become solecisms. Words used by people who think they’re being proper (or better) but who are sadly wrong. Solecisms include toilet instead of lavatory, serviette instead of napkin, lounge instead of sitting room, settee instead of sofa, soiled instead of dirty, along with kiddies, fish knives, doilies and making scone rhyme with bone instead of gone.2
Let’s prereverse the trend
Until recently, if we were forced to make the usually meaningless distinction between ordering something in advance of its actuality, or simply ordering a long time ahead of receiving, we would use the terms ‘advance booking’, or ‘advance order’. These phrases, in spite of their partial redundancy, at least have some clarity of meaning. Prebook and preorder have no clarity. As pieces of communication, they are totally fogged-up.Let’s do away with them now. Next time you’re asked if you’d like to prebook, or preorder, say ‘No thanks. I’d just like to book. Or to order, thanks’. If they look at you askance, explain, ‘To preorder would be preposterous.’
They won’t bloody understand you. But at least you’ll have used a longer word than them.
1 The fine irony is, their spellchecker will get repeatedly touchy about their new word, failing to find it in any of the 13 different versions of English dictionary currently included in Windows XP. And you won’t find it in the OED or Chambers, either. So there.
2 Yes, well spotted. Acknowledgements to J Betjeman.
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