
“An Albuquerque man found with nearly a dozen pounds of meth is back on the streets,” read the first sentence of the news story. Odd way to put it, I thought, especially since the headline was “Suspect caught with 10 pounds of meth.”
Why “nearly a dozen” when the writer knew ten was the actual count? (Especially since ten is already a nice round number.)
Numbers offer both precision and efficiency—much-valued qualities in most kinds of writing but especially in straight news—so why would a reporter jettison those advantages and opt for a less exact, wordier expression like “nearly a dozen”?
For variety? For effect? Does the suspect’s crime seem more heinous, or the police officers’ recovery of the drugs more impressive, if the number of pounds of meth involved is “nearly a dozen” rather than ten?
I see a lot of awkward, confusing, and even misleading number terms used in places where the goal should be accuracy. Usually the issue just looks like an illogical or misguided preference for descriptions of numbers over actual numbers. But odd uses of number terms can undermine clarity and even make a reader wonder whether some fudging is going on.
(In the case of that meth story, someone at the news station’s website must have thought better of “nearly a dozen,” because within a day the first sentence had been updated to state the amount of meth as simply “10 pounds.”)
Five on one hand, nearly half a dozen on the other
Once the word dozen was on my radar, I started noticing the even stranger and less necessary “nearly half a dozen,” otherwise known as five.
During a home search in Florence, South Carolina, for example, police “arrested nearly half a dozen people and kept more drugs off the streets.” The news story went on to say, “All five suspects are charged with trafficking cocaine, trafficking fentanyl and possession with intent to distribute marijuana.”
Under the headline “Newark Ironbound Stabbing Spree Leaves Five Injured,” another story says, “Police in Newark have arrested a male suspect following a stabbing incident that left nearly half a dozen people injured.”
And in yet another story, “In a late-night operation, the Essex County Sheriff's Office detained nearly half a dozen individuals after discovering multiple weapons in a vehicle they occupied.” The story goes on to specify that there were “five occupants” in the vehicle. (“A subsequent search of the car revealed three firearms.”)
Decades
Decade is another old number term (dozen dates from the 14th century, decade from the 15th) that seems to be gaining currency as a way to make numerical information a little less precise.

In an article subtitled, “American Airlines has fumbled the bag for nearly half a decade,” that phrase turns out to mean four years: “In a recent analysis of data from the U.S. Department of Transportation Air Travel Consumer Report, MyBaggage.com found that between 2021 and 2024, American Airlines mishandled the most luggage of any U.S. carrier.”
Another news story begins, “It’s been closed to visitors for more than half a decade but the work has finally finished on a popular picnic spot just outside of Albuquerque in the heart of the Cibola National Forest.” In the next sentence, we learn that the picnic area has been closed for seven years.
And in Canadian headlines, “This lavender farm has spent half a decade and six figures chasing provincial approval.” The story eventually confirms that the farm’s owner has grown lavender there for five years, but apparently the headline writer wasn’t tempted by the more symmetrical “five years and six figures.”
Sometimes the preference for number descriptions over actual numbers leads to outright math errors.
Here’s the beginning of a story in GQ dated June 24, 2024, and headlined “Why Tudor’s New GMT Is the Watch I’ve Waited Half a Decade For”:
Ever since the release of Tudor’s Black Bay GMT back in 2018—the brand’s analogue to the Rolex GMT-Master II—fans have been clamoring for a slightly smaller, thinner version. At this year’s Watches & Wonders Geneva, our prayers were finally answered. …
That’s a long time to drool over the prospect of spending “slightly less than $5K” for a watch. Also, by my count, since 2018 would actually be …
Ah, yes, toward the end of the article, the writer says, “I’ve been waiting for this watch for six years.” (He was so addled by the awesomeness of his new luxury timepiece that he missed a golden opportunity to use “half a dozen years” in the headline.)
A similar problem occurs in this February 2024 news story, titled “Chinese Hackers Operate Undetected in U.S. Critical Infrastructure for Half a Decade.”
The U.S. government on Wednesday said the Chinese state-sponsored hacking group known as Volt Typhoon had been embedded into some critical infrastructure networks in the country for at least five years. … Volt Typhoon … is a stealthy China-based cyber espionage group that’s believed to be active since June 2021.
“At least five years” is helpfully specific and expands on the headline’s “half a decade.” The only problem is that the period from June 2021 to February 2024 isn’t even a full three years.
Illogical percentages
As numbers go, percentages can be especially tricky. But I hope any reader would notice the problem with this headline: “Albuquerque police boast 126% homicide clearance rate.” The story goes on to say:
As the end of March [2024] nears, the Albuquerque Police Department is boasting a 126% homicide clearance rate. That means they have solved most of the homicides from this year, and many from last year. … This is a significant increase compared to the clearance rates from past years.
That makes no sense at all. If the homicide clearance rate is for the year, then you can’t just combine years. And no matter how many years you combine, it’s still mathematically and logically impossible to clear more than 100% (all) of the homicide cases. (Maybe they’ve solved some murders that haven’t happened yet?)
The news story then cites the city’s homicide clearance rates for 2021 (55%), 2022 (92%), and 2023 (90%), but as to the first quarter of 2024, the police spokesperson is quoted as saying, “so right now they are off to a really good start with [a] 126% clearance rate.” Ugh.
Raleigh, North Carolina, show us how it’s done: “Raleigh Police have solved every homicide so far in 2024,” says the headline, and the story explains, “Raleigh Police now has a 100% homicide clearance rate.”
It seems to me that it's just an instance of some people's desire to sound more literate or more erudite by using more (or just longer) words. Not that they do in the end. Cf utilise rather than use :-)
I’m guessing the idea is that the imprecision makes the duration or value in question seem longer or greater: “nearly half a decade” sounds more impressive than “four years”. It’s a kind of veiled numerical hyperbole.