ARE WE JUST SELLING WORDS?

“I am sure you are not following the trend.

If you are frozen in the 70s and want to keep working

with your typing machine there is nothing I can do”.

- Renato Cedin

  Link Translations (Brazil)

“Welcome to the 21st century: Computers are the future of translation

If you want to be as efficient a translator as possible, Microsoft Word and Excel

should not be your primary translation environments”.

- Jon Ritzdorf, Solutions Architect

  Introduction to Computer-Assisted Translation

  New York University - SCPS

♪ ♫ ♪

CAT for sale

Words perfect and unspoiled

Words never even slightly soiled

CAT for sale

Let the translators pipe of words

In their now extinct way

CAT knows every type of word

Better far than they ...

♫ ♫ ♪ ♫

- Inspired by Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale”

WORDS FOR SALE
(A Multi-Part Series)

Part 1

By Bernie Bierman

As far back as my memory can take me (and that is indeed many years), translators have been debating and arguing the question of the value of translation, and more particularly the best or most effective way to calculate that value.

My own memories and written records of this debate and argument reveal that various approaches were tried over the years in an attempt to calculate that value: per line, per word, per typestroke, per hour, by exotic formulas that combined the per line, per word and per hour criteria, and by all sorts and manner of esoteric calculations. 

For reasons that are still not clear, the per word method outlasted and outlived all the others.  Although many translation practitioners decried the per word calculation as inadequate, the consensus was that it was the most adequate of all the inadequates.  However, it did have the financially-redeeming virtue of consistency, that is, if one could agree on what precisely was a “word” for purposes of calculating a price.  Was a number in digital form a “word”?  And if the number in digital form was viewed or counted as a “word”, was 1000 really two “words” rather than one “word”?  Was 1,789,348 one “word” or nine “words”?   Was a name a “word”?  If the Italians called their city “Firenze”, was the English-language version of “Florence” a translated “word”?   And in the pre-computer and pre-CAT age, if names and numbers were viewed as countable or calculable “words”, the question or problem often arose as to how one precisely went about the actual counting of words?   Did the document really contain 8600 words, or was the real count 8492 or 8710 or 8628? 

And if the question of calculation and/or the method of calculation weren’t sufficient enough to stir the arguments, there was the matter of which words should form the basis of calculation: the source language words or the target language words.  Which was economically more equitable to the translator?  Which was economically more equitable to the client or user of the translation?  Was the source language calculation an accurate reflection of the overall translation process?  Or was the target language calculation a much more accurate reflection of that overall translation process?  And on and on the debate went…and raged.

* * * * *

Here in the United States, a man named Lewis Bertrand came upon the commercial-industrial translation scene in the 1920’s.  Bertrand was not merely a translator and writer (which has the same redundancy as “composer and musician”), but also a highly astute and (soon-to-be) successful businessman in the translation industry.  By the 1930’s Bertrand’s influence on the tiny U.S. commercial-industrial translation community was quite discernible and that influence grew in the following two decades.

Indeed, Bertrand’s incessant preaching of his gospel of translation economics brought many converts and spawned many faithful.  Henry Fischbach, the co-founder of the American Translators Association was a disciple of Bertrand’s translation economics, along with so many of the men and women who helped found and build what is arguably one of the largest translator organizations in the world.  (Sadly to a few, the leaders and members of the modern ATA haven’t the foggiest idea of who this Lewis Bertrand was, but even more sadly and more regrettably, the concepts developed by him respecting the essence and value of translation as a commercial endeavor and later promoted and fostered by such founding personages as Henry Fischbach, the Mins brothers, Robert Addis and so many others whose names are now long-forgotten, have been discarded like a piece of rusting machinery as a new generation of computer worshippers and technological “geek-speakers” have come along to proselytize and spread their own gospel.)

In economic and commercial terms, translation to Lewis Bertrand was not about words.  The idea that translation was about the sale of words was so anathema to him that he could literally break into a wild rage over the slightest suggestion in that direction.  To Bertrand, translation was about communication; translation, particularly in the commercial and industrial domains, was a communications service; translation was not about the supply of words; translation was about the supply of ideas, concepts, knowledge, a supply delivered by a person or persons having certain well-defined and unique skills…and talents.

I was only a teenager when I first heard one of the numerous Lewis Bertrand stories about translation and translation economics.  The one particular story that remained with me for a lifetime – as if it had been branded into my brain – went like this:

He was asked by one of his firm’s more difficult and chronically-complaining clients why it was being charged for “translating” names and numbers and what was the rationale for this “seemingly unfair charge”.  He was asked by this difficult and chronically-complaining client whether his firm could eliminate all the names and numbers from a translated document, thereby lowering the invoice by what could be a considerable sum.

Bertrand listened attentively to his client’s complaints and attempted to explain the nature and essence of a translation service.  But the client was adamant.  It did not need names and numbers “translated” and certainly did not want to pay for any such needless “translation”. Bertrand politely acceded to the client’s wishes.  The next translation job to be done for this client would be absent all non-translation elements, i.e., names, numbers and other “noise of like purport and tenor”, and the invoice would duly reflect a sharp reduction in the client’s translation cost.  The result was something like this:

“Dear Mr. [see original] :

“We acknowledge receipt of your letter dated [see original] and with regard to the delivery of [see original] tons of [see original] rolled steel scheduled for shipment on [see original] via the SS [see original], we would like to advise you as follows:

“Because of major dredging problems in the port of [see original], Captain [see original] of the Port Authority of [see original] issued Directive No. [see original] which prohibits vessels over [see original] tons displacement from entering port channels Nos. [see original] and [see original] until [see original] at the very earliest.  Although we could arrange for transshipment in [see original] between the dates of [see original] and [see original] to a vessel of lesser displacement, the costs would increase, and the letter of credit No. [see original] issued by the [see original] Bank in the amount of US$[see original] would be insufficient.

“Should you have any further concerns, please feel free to contact the undersigned by telephone at [see original] or telex at [see original], or his deputy manager, Mr. [see original], whose telephone number is [see original] and whose telex number is [see original].

“Yours, etc.

“[see original]

By: [see original]”

The upshot of this was a very quick telephone call from the chronically-complaining client: “Mr. Bertrand, we got your point.  Please provide us with a complete translation and charge us accordingly”.

Lewis Bertrand was never happy with or enamored of the per word method that was the dominant method in calculating the value of a translation service.  He saw it as a reference tool at best, a reference tool that was far too often not reflective of the true value of the service and all of the elements that went into providing the service. At worst, he viewed the per word invoicing method as a manifestation that the translator was really selling just words.    He and his contemporaries and competitors often tried combinations of various calculation methods, such as per word and per hour or various complex formulas that combined numerous calculation methods.  Bertrand believed fervently and passionately that translators possessed certain highly-defined skills and knowledge that could not be adequately compensated by the mere counting of words and attaching a figure to that count. 

“We are in the communications business”, he would often bellow.  “We are not a bunch of (expletive) clerks”, he would yell.  “We are not  (expletive) typists or transcribers”, he would scream.  [In the mid-1940’s, he charged a client US$100 to translate one word – it came out as two words in the target language.  “If an advertising agency can charge a client thousands of dollars to come up with a 5-word slogan or phrase”, he said, “then surely all of the thought, time and talent that went into finding the right expression in another language for that one English word makes the $100 fee not just a bargain, but a steal”.]

In his day, lots of people in the translation industry (both in the U.S. and Europe) listened to this fiery preacher of translation economics, and many followed his preachings.  Although Bertrand was certainly around in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, when the first attempts at computerized translation were undertaken, he and so many of his contemporaries dismissed this endeavor as a bad joke and as a need by certain people to robotize everything in sight (and even out of sight).

Clearly, if some “geek-speaker” appeared before a vast assembly of translators in the days of Lewis Bertrand and his contemporaries – or even in the days of their successors – and told the audience that “once a word or sentence or phrase or paragraph had been translated, that very same word or sentence or phrase or paragraph (or a close facsimile thereof) would never ever have to be translated again”, the laughter and howls in the assembly hall would have been of a decibel level that would have surely compromised the structural integrity of that assembly hall.

If Bertrand and virtually all of his contemporaries were blind to the coming of robotized translation, which was not merely on the horizon, but rather just around the corner, there was not so much as a nanosecond thought given to the possible economic impact upon the translation industry that this robotization would wrought.   Of course, there was only handful of people anywhere who saw a world connected through a place that didn’t as yet even have a name.  And never mind the word “globalization”, the concept alone was if not science-fiction, then certainly economics-fiction. 

[To be continued in Part 2]

COMMODIFICATION AND THE CALCULATION OF RATES

Several people sent me emails about my last post rather than making comments here. Two in particular had to do with Bernie Bierman's email to his clients, and I passed them along to him. So that the discussion can continue, I am publishing his reply below:


Dear Jodi and dear Aliza,

Rosene Zaros, the publisher of this blog and journal informed me that both of you disagreed with me – in slightly different ways - on the matter of charging on the basis of target language words. I would be truly shocked if there were more than ten persons in the entire world of translation who agreed with me, not just on this issue, but on any other translation-related issue.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have even written my “letter to my clients”, for it was based solely and totally upon erroneous thinking, and worse upon truly dinosauric concepts. In a phrase, I should have listened to the voices bellowing in unison, “Hey, Bernie, get with the program”. Stupidly, or unwisely, I chose to ignore those voices and proceeded along on my hind legs. If someone called me a slang term denoting the egress of the rectal canal, he, she or they would have been absolutely correct..

You see, my very dear ladies, when I wrote my letter to the client, I was still cemented into the thinking and attendant belief that there are still more than a sufficient number of translators in this vast world who perceive of themselves as writers, as specialists in communications, as persons having knowledge (profound or peripheral) of certain or many subjects, or for the very least the terminology, the phraseology and the writing styles of those subjects. Indeed, as I was writing my words, I kept laboring under this very antiquated notion that in the ultimate the fee of a practitioner in this business – whether an individual translator or a translation service company – was really based upon some very unique skills combined with knowledge and other gray matter components, and all wrapped up in a package labeled “communications service”. And I further kept laboring under the equally antiquated notion that the word count was merely the best of all of the other inadequate methods (e.g., per line, per stroke, per hour, per coffee break) to be used as a mere reference upon which this fee for a communications service could be based. I really don’t know what possessed me to keep thinking in a period of time that now seems like at least one thousand years ago.

Incidentally, the reason that gave rise to the writing of my letter to my (ever dwindling number of) clients was US$4.80. Yes, that’s right, US$4.80. No, not US$48.00 or US$480 or US$4800, but US$4.80. If you yourselves don’t see the picture, I do believe you see my drift. (At least I hope so).

There are at least two (2) facts of the matter that I should have paid more attention to and carefully considered before writing my letter to my clients. While I have every reason to believe that both of you are fully acquainted with these particular facts of the matter, permit me to address them merely for the sake of the few fellow dinosaurs who may read this tract, and whose understanding of the ways of modern translation need remediation. The first is that there are fewer and fewer translators involved in the translation industry. Translators, as we knew and defined them once upon a fairly short time ago, have been replaced by a genus called CAT workers or CAT operators (a genus somewhat akin to the now-defunct keypunch operator). The second fact of the matter is that with the ever-growing dominance of CAT, it is the computer that undertakes a so-called “scientific” analysis of the text to be translated, comparing it to texts that have been previously translated and stored in its memory, an analysis that includes not just the exact number of words to be translated from “scratch”, but also the number of words that may be similar to those already in the memory; this process is called “matching” and the computer undertakes all sorts and manner of calculations to determine percentages of this “matching”. All of these analyses and calculations of matching percentages are done on the basis of the text to be translated, i.e., the source language text, and the CAT worker or operator is told right from the get-go precisely how many (SL) words he or she will have to “translate” and how much he or she will be paid for those “translated” words. And there is no arguing by the CAT operator with either the computer or the translation agency. (Of course, this latter aspect raises some interesting questions of independent contractorship, but that’s another story for another day.)

Anyway, arguments/discussions/debates/discourses about TL-SL counts are now meaningless; the computer has become and is unquestionably the undisputed master and sole arbiter of this aspect of the translation process, and both the translation agencies and the hordes of CAT operators who labor for those agencies now worship fervently at the altar of this omniscient and omnipotent deity.

If my letter to my clients said anything, it said that I am of the age of the quill pen and parchment paper. And now I shall take leave of you to get into my horse-drawn carriage and repair to the blacksmith.

Always your Most Hbl., Dvt. & Obt. Svt.,

(Hell, if I am to be classified as a dinosaur, I just as well write like one, eh?)

Bernie Bierman

THE COMMODITIZATION OF TRANSLATION

I recently received an email from my friend and colleague Bernie Bierman about an internet posting made by a translation agency asking "experienced Portuguese Translators and Proofreaders" to submit their rates for "no match, repetitions, and 75-99% match". He also reminded me of then-ATA president Jiri Stejskal's article "On Statistics and Competition" in the February 2008 ATA Chronicle and suggested that I take another look at it.

Basically, Mr. Stejskal's article is what we call a "feel-good" piece, as are most Chronicle articles, telling translators that they need not fear competition from abroad, or for that matter, any competition at all. The Stejskal article states that "inexpensive translation from developing countries can be viewed as a threat...only insofar as translation is perceived as a commodity that can be produced regardless of location and supplied without qualitative differentiation across a given market." (my emphasis) He goes on to tell us that to "make sure translation is not traded or perceived as a commodity...we need to specialize in order to differentiate our translation or interpreting work qualitatively."

At the time, I wrote a commentary in the Gotham Translator about the absurdity of thinking of specialization as being a way to prevent the commoditization of translation, but I was thinking about outsourcing then. I was not thinking about the role that translation memory software would play, indeed, has played in the commoditization of translation. So, what exactly does it mean to "commoditize" something? Investopedia defines it as follows:

"The act of making a process, good or service easy to obtain by making it as uniform, plentiful and affordable as possible. Something becomes commoditized when one offering is nearly indistinguishable from another. As a result of technological innovation, broad-based education and frequent iteration, goods and services become commoditized and, therefore, widely accessible." (my emphasis)

That definition seems to be a fairly accurate description of what translation software does, and I think that we could go so far as to say that, more than outsourcing, the imposition of translation memory software on translators (with Trados appearing to be the most required software product for more and more jobs) is leading inexorably to the commoditization of translation. This trend is accelerated by the fact that translators have been seduced by sales pitches such as you will never have to translate the same sentence again". What is more troubling and worrisome is that this translation memory software has been used not just as a tool of efficiency, but as a kind of combined rotary saw and sledgehammer on translation rates and, therefore, translation earnings. The brutal fact of the matter is that today's independent or freelance translator who must adhere to the non-negotiable requirement that he or she use a CAT tool, quickly finds out that there is absolutely no payment or a pittance of a payment for the words in that sentence that are viewed by the program as "repeats" or "quasi-repeats" or "semi-quasi-repeats", say nothing of the fact that perhaps the "same" sentence actually should be translated differently in a different context. Although translation memories can, under specific circumstances, provide greater consistency, the consistency just may be all wrong. Inaccurate translations become part of translation memories and, as such, are perpetuated ad infinitum. It indeed seems to me that if we use Investopedia's definition, industrial (as opposed to literary) translation is well on its way to being commoditized.

To support his proposition that "specialization" will somehow prevent translators from becoming victims of the commoditization process, Stejskal gives former ATA president Marian S. Greenfield as an example of a successful translator who specializes in financial translation. In reality, she may be an excellent example of a translator who has successfully capitalized on the commoditization of the translation industry. Earlier this year many translators received an email from SDL-Trados which contained the following testimonial:

"I just completed [sic] a 34,501 word project in 10 hours thanks to AutoSuggest, Context Match and the other nifty time-saving features within SDL Trados Studio 2009 SP1. That's without having much of anything in the pre-existing TM!" --Marian S. Greenfield, Translator and Trainer.

When other translators expressed some doubt as to whether what she had done could actually be called "translation", it was revealed that she was working with an Excel file with many repetitions--in essence, the sort of document that translation memory software handles quite well. Nevertheless, thinking about this "feat" from a financial point of view, 34,501 words in ten hours at $0.10 per word (which, believe it or not, was on the low side a scant ten years ago) would indeed make her a financially successful translator! However, one might ask how much she actually was paid for all those repetitions, if she was paid at all for them. Also, one might wonder about the "qualitative differentiation across a given market" that Stejskal says is so important. It looks a little like Ms. Greenfield's "specialization" may have been the promoting of Trados software.

In closing, I do not want to leave readers with the impression that I am against translation memory software, for this is definitely not the case. It certainly has its place in today's technological scheme of things, for in the case where a translator is asked to translate a second document (a shop manual, for instance) from the same end client, the TM software might be quite useful. I do have doubts about its being used for all types of documents as some companies are now doing. Under those circumstances, no amount of "specialization" can prevent the commoditization of translation which, in turn, is bound to change the face of the translation industry itself, if it hasn't changed it already. But setting aside the discussion as to when or where translation memory software is or is not useful, the bigger question remains whether TM has become the instrument by which to drive down translator income to the point where translation practitioners become nothing more than extension of the clerical furniture, translating a "new" word or phrase here and there, and receiving a token payment for what is, in effect (at least in the eyes of the translation buyer), a token effort. These are things that all translators should be thinking about and discussing if we are to be prepared for the challenges of the 21st century.