Do no harm and leave no trace.
It has been a year since I started the capstone project of my editing certificate. I learned many concepts during my journey as a student with Simon Fraser University, but perhaps none so striking as this simple phrase.
I must admit, I don’t recall the first course I heard this, nor do I know if it’s originally attributable to a single person; but I do know when it was first introduced to me it confirmed what I always felt deep down — editing is my home. It’s a place where I fit, where my temperament thrives.
When I graduated high school, I wanted to be a journalist. I loved to research and write so it seemed like the perfect fit. I joined my campus newspaper as a volunteer in my first year of university then became news editor the following year. As much as I enjoyed the writing aspect of the job, I started to feel uneasy that I didn’t feel fired up chasing stories. I certainly didn’t enjoy trying to speak to sources who didn’t always want to speak to me.
I still loved working at the newspaper (and as a young undergrad I still needed a job) so I took on a position as copy editor when my predecessor graduated. It wasn’t a job many people wanted at the time; most of my fellow students were interested in the “sexier” jobs — reporting, photography, design, business management. Reading other people’s work for grammar and spelling seemed boring to them. I’d always felt a great deal of satisfaction catching typos and fact checking information, so I figured I’d give copy editing a whirl.
I loved it.
Copy editing campus news was a great way to get my feet wet. I was eager for stories to come across my desk. Correct the headlines, add the missing punctuation, make sure the chancellor’s name was spelled correctly, fix grammar mistakes … all little thrills that lit up my day. It wasn’t until I got to do this for a second term that the reason why I loved this became crystal clear.
My newspaper had open competitions for each staff position, so we had to go through the nerve-racking process of reapplying for our jobs (in a group interview, no less!) at the end of every academic year. The year I reapplied, I was asked by one of the interviewers how, as a copy editor, I know when I’ve done a good job. I still remember my response:
“I know I’ve done a good job when no one knows what it is I do.”
I went on to explain how no one reading our publication bothered to look my name up when an issue was published with no glaring mistakes, but how we as a collective publishing entity would hear about it if we got the name of a professor wrong, or made an egregious error in the facts of a story. Anything that distracted the reader from the text was my oversight — you bet people would ask “who the hell read this over?” Anything that made a story look bad made the newspaper look bad.
I prided myself on doing my job so well that readers could focus on the message, not the mistakes. I didn’t have to be in the spotlight, but I could make our writers look good by supporting them behind the scenes. I could be the lighting tech, not the actor. The editor, not the reporter.
Do no harm and leave no trace.
It’s been a long time since 20-something me gave that response, but I think it still holds true. I didn’t know what I’d said would make all I learned in my editing certificate feel like home years later. Leaving no trace doesn’t mean an editor hasn’t left a mark — on the contrary! It means a good editor knows how to let an author shine. It means knowing when to let an idea lead. It means acquainting ourselves with a work so the author’s voice is amplified and preserved. It means polishing mechanics so a reader faces no roadblocks when reading. It also means knowing when to break convention in the name of pulling an audience in.
Do no harm and leave no trace doesn’t mean we don’t exist — we are human, and like everyone else we work hard to hone our craft and are passionate about what we love. Do we like acknowledgement for our work? Of course! A kind comment or “thank you” from a client goes a long way; support from a colleague does, too. Do no harm and leave no trace is knowing when to step back so our work can step forward.
That is the subtle art worth pursuing.