As I see it, there are three big problems with the correspondences we make between the target language (Ancient Greek or Latin) and English.

(1) English definitions are so out-of-date or obscure that students need to look up the English in order to understand the definition. Perhaps there was a time when immo vero could be translated “nay verily” and we understood what that meant. That time is not now, though, and we should find better translations.

My rule is: if you don’t use the English word in your ordinary speech, then you can’t use it as a translation of this Greek or Latin word—unless that word is legitimately bizarre and the obscurity of your English selection captures that.

(2) The word in the target language doesn’t actually mean what the English definition means. For instance, λόγος almost never means “word.” Rather, it’s a complete statement, ranging from a full story to a proposition. While ποιητής can mean “poet,” the word means “maker,” and “poet” only covers a fraction of that semantic range.

(2α) Please, let’s also avoid vocabulary informed by Abrahamic religious worldviews. For instance, the classical Greco-Roman world did not have the same concept of Good versus Evil. So let’s not translate malum as “evil” or ἁμαρτία as “sin.”

(3) Avoid translating a Greek or Latin word with the borrowing of that same word in English. There are countless examples <list coming soon> where the English borrowing no longer means what the word originally meant. Plus, it’s a mark against comprehension if you translate a sentence just using Anglicized borrowings: <insert example.>

When a student does use an obscure Anglicized borrowing, ask them if they know what it means. When they say they don’t, take it as an opportunity to talk semantics with the class.

—James F. Patterson