We recently conducted a mini-survey of some clients. Here are two results which I thought were very interesting.

Many large companies consolidate their translation needs in a centralised department. Through this consolidation and rationalisation, the company seeks to reduce costs. Every translation request goes through this single department which also manages the external relationships with Language Service Providers.

These centralised departments essentially become an internal supplier of translation services to their internal customers (overseas offices and departments).

We asked them which factor was most important to them.

46% rated the cost of the translation as the most important factor. If you add “On-time delivery”, then 60% of their focus is on project management: cost and time.

Centralised translation service: internal supplier

Then we asked their internal customers – those overseas offices which actually make use of the translation – what they consider the most important factor.

Translation consumer

The project management aspects are not nearly so important (totalling only 31%). Far more important was that the translation was accurate and well written (69%).

When creating a centralised department, therefore, a company explicity announces the tension between money and quality. Implicitly, it is pitting the internal supplier against the internal consumer who have demands which appear to be in conflict.

The demands of the consumer meet the constraints of the supplier

This tension is important and it would be naive to think that it didn’t exist. But it can only benefit the company if the system is truly in tension. That is, if both “money” and “quality” are exerting pressure.

If the centralised department succeeds in reducing costs to the point where the translations are poor quality, has anyone really won? Remember that a centralised department is also a monopoly and if this were to exist in the free market, there would be a regulator. So the company needs to provide the internal consumer with a method to send feedback to the internal supplier. And this feedback needs to form a real and important part of the overall system. It can’t be simply a “nice to have”.

A feedback mechanism, where data is collated, organised and reported, can highlight problems, opportunities and successes. A centralised department can use this data to reduce costs, improve quality, increase consistency and shorten project duration.

Only through a robust quality feedback loop can you keep the entire system under tension and only then will you see both lower translation costs and better quality. You can have your cake and eat it: you can improve project management whilst improving quality.

We know it can be done because we’ve provided consulting to companies on exactly how to do it: how to install a translation quality feedback mechanism that works for both your internal translation consumers and your centralised department.

If you’d like to know how to organise a centralised translation department with effective quality feedback, email us at info@intrawelt.co.uk and ask for our free white paper.

1. It takes a long time to train
   No one really wakes up, has breakfast then, running for the bus, decides simply to carry on running to the office a mere twenty-six-odd miles down the road. It takes training. And for a first-timer, it could take 18 weeks to train. That’s over 4 months. A third of a year. And so it is with translation. Whilst it is true that any person with a computer, internet access and a knowledge of another language could – and does – set him/herself up as a translator, these are not professional, trained, qualified personnel. It may look cute to see a runner dressed up as Tigger (link: zimbio) but we all know we’re really there to see Paula (link: Wikipedia), aren’t we? It’s the difference between the 20-metre dash at your 6-year-old’s sports day and the Olympic men’s 100m final.
2. It if were easy, everyone would be doing it.
   My first marathon was the Big Sur Interational Marathon (link: BSIM) from Big Sur to Carmel in California. It’s pretty but tough. Vancouver’s nice and easy. Paris is great. And Venice is, well, it’s Venice. And I’ve done London too. Not everyone can offer professional, quality translations. We look for translators with graduate degrees in translation. We look for sector expertise; continous work and development. It’s not easy but we feel that by building quality, we build for the future.
3. It feels great when you finish
   Yeah!
4. Many people don’t understand why you do it
   We could find so-called bilingual people to translate your text. People whose only qualification is being able to speak two languages. But this doesn’t mean that they can translate. I can count money but I couldn’t be the Governor of the Bank of England. I can kick a football with my son but I’m no David Beckham (I’ve definitely got the looks though). Some clients tell us that one translation agency quotes for 7p a word and ask why our quote is not that low. It’s because we only use qualified, experienced translators. That means they have a recognised university qualification in translating. Many people don’t understand why we don’t choose less-qualified (or unqualified) people to give clients a lower cost. What they don’t realise is that low-qualified means even lower quality. The bottom line is that if you want a crap translation, then go to those agencies but, frankly, we don’t do crap.
5. There are fun runners and there are serious professional athletes
   There are ISO 9001 certified agencies who also hold UNI EN 15038. And then there are the fun runners.
6. There are no shortcuts
   Just as a runner goes through every inch of those twenty-six point two miles, so we go through every word of your text. Sounds obvious? The Italians say “squadra del cuore” (lit: team of the heart). They’re talking about the football team you support. A “shortcut” would simply be to translate this literally: Who is your team of the heart? Which is English, true, but makes no sense. Only by knowing the sense of the phrase, can we provide a better translation: Which team do you support? It just takes a bit longer because we’ve got to use our brains and think about what we’re doing.
7. The support is critical
   A marathon runner – in training or during the run – needs the support from those around him/her. And it’s the same when translating. Resources, expert advice, computer programs (perhaps to do pagination or layout), all focus on the person running. If a runner had to stop to go to a cash-point to buy a bottle of water, it’d be pretty poor. That’s why we follow our “runners” with everything they might need.
8. There’s always another one to do
   After one marathon, it may take a week or two but many people start planning their next one. The inaugural Brighton Marathon in the UK will take place on 18 April 2010. (link: Brighton Marathon). The next translation comes a little sooner but that’s how we like it!
9. You can always get better
   Your personal best (PB) is always there to be broken. And at Intrawelt we believe that continuous improvement is essential. We look for ways to improve quality, improve consistency, and increase speed. By leveraging information technology better, by streamlining processes, by opening communication, we continually strive to a better PB.
10. A disciplined, professional preparation will eventually show
    In practically every market, the client starts to demand more and more. Not only do their needs change but the client becomes more sophisticated. Eventually, the man in his bedroom with his schoolboy French will be unable to keep up and those clients will not accept his shoddy – but cheap – translations. Just as runners don’t collapse but run through the finishing line and proudly wear the finisher’s medal, knowing that they ran the marathon.

Who cannot remember those dear boys, The Sex Pistols? Their music, behaviour, attitude and personal hygiene were to become the knitted blanket which falls comfortably over the settee to hide the worn patches over the arms.

And how should translators deal with swear words? That’s the thorny issue I’m wrestling with right now. It’s a real ****** because many swear words don’t translate terribly well: either there’s no real translation; or there are too many translations; or there’s a real translation but it’s not applicable because the swear word isn’t used in that way.

When we translate, we try to bear in mind the “blind taste test”. (do you remember the blind taste test cola adverts?). If we were to give the source and target texts to someone, would they be able to select the translation? We always try to produce a translation that looks as though it’s the original: written as if it were the source.

If you need to translate a single expletive, it’s not too bad usually. **** or **** or **** or ****** **** can be translated without difficulty. But what about when swear words as used as adjectives as in “What ****** idiot did that?” or an adverb “You’ve got to be ******* joking?” or a noun “You’re a right *******”?

Because when we use a particular word, it means something particular. Change the swear word and you change the strength of meaning slightly. How can this depth of feeling – so easily created in profanity – be captured in translation? It’s not ****** easy, I can tell you.

And there seems to be no rule either. A **** one day does not translate the same way the same time tomorrow. Like I said, it’s all down to the context and how the word is said (or perceived to be said). A slight change (more than slight sometimes) and the meaning can be very different.

And what about religious expletives? What impact will taking the Lord’s name in vain have in a non-Christian country? And you can’t just replace one God with another – which one would you choose, for example, if you had to pick from the Hindu deities where (link: thanks to Wikipedia) you can choose from 330 thousand?

I know there’s been a **** load of work done in this area already by minds far more able than mine to deal with the issues. But when you’ve got a translation in front of you and there’s **** and **** and **** all over the place, it’s a ****** **** ******!

No posts last week – not because of the UK’s Royal Mail strike – but because of that little virus thing going around town right now. Aching joints and back, headache, earache, sensitive to light, temperature, cough, blocked sinuses, nausea, lost appetite, short temper, where’s my mum?

I had a splendid week planned with not one nor two but three rather important projects to deliver. And then I was sick. I’m sure the ‘flu hits people differently but I was flat on my back on the couch for 72 hours. And I was suffering. I felt rotten. Really miserable. And I remember a telephone call with the office. I was asked how I was and, being British, my initial, “let’s not even think about that question for a moment” response was to say, “Oh…not too bad”.

But I stopped myself.

I thought about how I felt and decided to tell the truth: “Actually, I’m really, really sick. My temperature’s over 39. I ache all over. I cannot get comfortable. I feel really bad – to be honest, I’m suffering. I can’t possibly come to work today. I’m really sorry”.

Now getting that off my chest didn’t change a thing and I certainly didn’t feel better but it left me reflecting on the socio-linguistic “handshaking” that so often goes on and whose purpose is to lead the parties towards a point where the real action can start.

And it left me wondering what should happen if one person really wanted to know how the other was doing:

Person1: “Hi. How are you doing?”
Person2: “Fine. Not too bad.”
P1: “No, really. How are you?”
P2: “Fine. I’m fine.”
P1: “NO! Tell me how you’re really doing!”
P2: “I JUST DID! I’M OK”.

When I meet people, it’s automatic to ask after their health but I am expecting a standard reply – they’re going to be fine because they’re at work / in the bar / at the supermarket.

If they were ill, they’d look ill and my question would be more “Hi….are you OK? You don’t look too good…” and I’d expect a response to confirm that.

So I make an assumption based on the way you look and where I meet you. So I’m not asking to really find out how you are. It’s a conversation starter; an ice-breaker; a salutation. And then other questions came to me which fulfill a similar function:

How’s the wife/husband?
How’s work?
How’re the kids?

In some cultures, the greeting can be translated as “Have you eaten?” and of course, the expected (and only) response can be “Yes, heartily. I am sufficiently sophonsified and adequately nourished. Thank you.” But if you thought that poppycock, you could simply sit them down to a meal anyway. Which, politeness would dictate, would be eaten thus confirming the host’s position: you had not eaten sufficiently otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to eat this meal.

The more I thought, the more I began to see this type of language at work. I call it linguistic bubble-wrap. Whilst it ultimately gets discarded in favour of the precious object which it protects, this bubble-wrap is very important and, indeed, without it, how could I deliver my message? It’s a very necessary step in the whole process.

And bubble-wrap is so flexible and useful. It’s so tactile and who hasn’t played with it endlessly? – popping all those wonderful bubbles? Bubble-wrap’s great!

So the next time I’m asked how I’m doing, expect a cheery, “fine. I’m fine”. Because it’s bubble-wrap, you see.