As a writer, I am fascinated by words. I love learning new words and using them in my writing. Words like “mnemonic,” for example. Pronounced “ne manik,” mnemonic means a technique or strategy consciously used to improve memory, such as the phrase “Every Good Boy Does Fine” to remember the treble clef notes on the staff lines corresponding to the notes E, G, B, D, and F from bottom to top. However, music lessons are not the focus of the blog for today. What I really want to know is, why the heck is there an “m” in the word “mnemonic?”

For that matter, the English language has a lot of silent letters that serve no purpose other than to confuse students on spelling tests or make them look brilliant (or less than brilliant) in spelling bees. Supposedly, silent letters are leftovers from Old English, French, or Latin influences. But personally, I don’t understand why we didn’t drop these unnecessary letters from the English language a long time ago. It would certainly make English as a second language classes easier for foreign students.

Think about it. Why is there an “s” in the word “island?” Surely, there must be a reason, but not one I can think of, which makes it difficult to teach a second-grader to spell by “sounding the word out.” Younger Son played sports for the Rocky Bayou Christian School Knights. Would someone please tell me why that useless “k” is there? I get that there aren’t a lot of words beginning with the letter “k,” so perhaps it’s attached to the beginning of a lot of words, such as “knit” and “knead,” to boost its morale, but what about the silent “g” and “h?” The only letters actually pronounced in the word “knights” are the “n, i, t, and s.” Can you just imagine the crowd in the bleachers at the Rocky football game yelling, “Go k-ni-g-h-ts!” The other team would have already scored a touchdown before the fans finished pronouncing it.

What about the word “pneumonia?” What’s the deal with the silent “p?” It turns a medical condition into a spelling exercise. Or, perhaps it’s secretly there to save lives. It keeps the dummies out of medical school. If you can’t spell “pneumonia” or “psychology,” you have no business becoming a doctor. The same goes if you can’t correctly note that the patient “coughed” up “phlegm” or he has “asthma.” However, in the word “receipt,” the “p” serves no purpose. The “c” and the “t” are already doing their job, and the “p” is simply along for the ride. I could also argue the same point for the “i,” but it seems that “i” often gets an unexplained free ride in words such as “piece.”

How about the rogue “w” in “wrangle” and “wrist,” without which the words would be spelled “wrong?” Or the silent “b” in “debt,” “doubt,” and “subtle.” And the ghostly “g” in words like “gnome” and “gnarl.” Did the “g” decide to become a “ghost” and haunt these words silently by affixing itself to their beginnings?

These sneaky little silent letters creep into our words, contributing nothing to pronunciation, yet demanding to be noticed while letting the other letters do all the work. They even go so far as to make the words in which they hang out spelled incorrectly without their presence.
So, what can we do about these silent letters that make no sense? I would boycott them and refuse to use them in my “writing,” but that seems like a lot of “bologna” to me, and I’d hate to make writing “faux pas.” But, to be “honest,” having to type unnecessary letters just because they’ve become ingrained in our English language “gnaws” at me. However, rather than fight these quirky and confusing ninjas of the linguistic world, which appear to be here to stay, I’ve decided my best bet is to go with the flow and remain silent. After all, nobody knows what a “riter” is.