For many years every newspaper had a team of experienced journalists called sub-editors.
They had specific roles in the production process. They viewed reporters’ stories, once they had been read and put in a news basket by the news editor, and played a role in deciding on which page each story would appear.
They carefully proof-read every story, looking out for literals and poor grammar and made corrections if they found such offending errors.
They also had a say in whether or not the story had the right angle, if the most important points had been given sufficient prominence, if the story flowed well and had the kind of structure that would encourage a reader to keep on reading until the end.
Most subs would not hesitate to re-write and re-order a story if they felt if would improve it – often without speaking to the reporter first.
Using whatever editorial space was available on a given page – that is, how much space was left after advertisements were taken into account – a sub-editor would then create an eye-catching design aimed at using the available words and photographs to best effect.
Sub-editors were also responsible for writing the headline and sub-heading for each story. Again the main aim was to draw a reader’s eye and entice them to read the story.
These days many newspapers use a series of templated pages and reporters write their own headlines so the heyday of the sub-editor has passed.
Sub-editors were experts on grammar and getting the best out of a story
In my early days in journalism I worked at a newspaper that had a subbing ‘pool’. This comprised a group of journalists who occupied a room just off the main newsroom.
Its occupants were what you might describe as ‘grizzled hacks’ – that is, they were mainly middle-aged, with years of journalism under their belts. They had also witnessed, over the years, every possible grammatical error a young journalist might commit.
And this tended to make them rather grumpy.
Indeed, your heart would be in your mouth if you got a call on your desk ‘phone from one of the subs calling you into the subs’ room.
The call you never wanted to receive was from one particular sub – let’s call him Syd.
Syd was close to retirement and in his long career he’d seen it all. Nevertheless he was determined to pass on his wisdom to new reporters.
I recall one episode involving Syd. My phone rang and I answered it brightly: “Newsroom”. There was a long pause. Then came a voice dripping with weary disappointment: “Andrew - please come through to the subs’ room”.
I sat at the far end of the news room and as I wandered slowly down to the subs’ room I could see the sympathetic half-smiles of fellow reporters, who had been subject to similar doom-ridden calls in the past.
Entering the lions’ den, I could see through the haze of cigarette smoke the subs hard at work, heads down and reading reporters’ stories. No-one looked up as I hovered at Syd’s shoulder.
Eventually he put down his pen and turned to face me.
“Andrew,” he groaned exasperatedly. “Your knowledge of the bloody possessive bloody apostrophe is abso-bloody-lutely appalling.”
Chastised as I was, I had to admire his ability to insert a mild swear word into the heart of the word ‘absolutely’.
Syd then proceeded to exhaustively explain the nuances and rules pertaining to the possessive apostrophe and I left, suitably enlightened.
Looking back, I thank Syd for his trouble because I realise he was teaching me a valuable lesson. Language and grammar do matter and accuracy and detail are vital skills for a journalist.
Suffice it to say my knowledge of the possessive apostrophe is now abso-bloody-lutely oustanding!