No mas.

I know there’s a lot of debate out there about Spanish. One side says there are umpteen million Spanish-speaking people in this country and we should accommodate them. The other side says that if you want to create a permanent underclass, make it easy for immigrants to not learn English. One side says Spanish has become part of the American culture, the other says it splits that culture in two, like French does to Canada. But neither side is addressing the real issue with incorporating Spanish into every package, sign, ad and TV’s closed-captioning software:

It’s waaaaaaayyyy too long.

I first came to this realization when we translated a radio script for a client. In English, it was a well-paced 60 seconds. In Spanish, it was 75, even though the announcer was reading it faster than a disclaimer for a used car lot’s 0% financing event. We were cutting out complete sentences just to get it close to 60, and finally were left to eliminating all pauses after periods. Then time compressing it by 10%. You’d have to have a blue whale’s lungs to say that much that fast.

Brands, advertisers and politicians (of course) think they’re currying favor with Spanish-speaking people in the U.S. by accommodating, promoting and using their native language. But did anyone ever bother to ask just why these folks left their Spanish-speaking country? Maybe, just maybe, they were desperate to escape Spanish.

Look how long it takes to say things:

“50% more fiber!” is just seven syllables. But in Spanish (Cincuenta por ciento de fibra más!) it’s 11. That’s 57% more syllables to tell me I get 50% more fiber.

“Officer! That man took my baby!” (9 syllables) translates into the 14-syllable-long, “Oficial! Ese hombre tomó a mi bebé!”  I got news for you: ese hombre is half-way to the next county by the time you spit that out.

In the sign above, telling employees that they must wash their hands takes a mere six syllables in English. In Spanish, 14. By the time you’ve read that in Spanish, the guy who read it in English has finished blow drying his hands with one of those heatless, earth-friendly dryers and is at the bar with your date, who was impatiently wondering what was taking you so long but is now agreeing to go check out this dude’s F150 king cab. The only thing waiting for you at the bar is the tab.

English is also much simpler because it’s flexible enough to slam words together and still have them make sense. Look how long it takes to tell someone in English that the 3 oz. Dixie Cups they’re buying are for use in the average bathroom: “Bath Cups.” That’s it. “Bath Cups.” You get it. You know they’re cups for the bathroom. Now look at the Spanish: “Vasos para el bano.” Four words, seven syllables to say “Bath Cups.” Even if you just say “Bano Vasos” it’s twice as long syllable-wise.

The Spanish version of “War and Peace” must be nearly six hundred billion pages long.

This isn’t to disparage the Spanish language. I recognize the lyrical quality to Spanish. It’s a beautiful language. But that’s no excuse for loquaciousness. English can be beautiful, too. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?,” “Do not go gentle into that good night,” “Kirk to Enterprise, three to beam up.” See? Gorgeous. And brief.