The American Heart Association says that heart attacks kill about 1,200 people in the United States every day. In many of those people’s obituaries or death notices, the cause of death will be given as “an apparent heart attack.”
Except, as many a journalism professor has noted, “apparent heart attacks” can’t kill; only real heart attacks can kill.
This advice is often taught, but more often ignored: A quick Nexis search shows that in the last three months, “apparent heart attack” outpolled “apparently of a heart attack” (or similar constructions), about 350 to 50.
“Apparent” is an adjective meaning “readily seen; visible” or somewhat contradictorily, “appearing (but not necessarily) real or true.” Most people use the adjective to mean “it looks like to me …,” as in: “He has no apparent interest in learning the difference between disinterested and uninterested.” So, what just is “wrong” with saying “an apparent heart attack”? Let’s take two sides: the why can’t you? and the why not?
Why you shouldn’t
For some, “apparent” is a wishy-washy word. If you don’t know it was a heart attack, don’t mislead the reader. Just say “the cause is suspected to be a heart attack,” or something like that.
Garner’s Modern American Usage says “an apparent heart attack” is illogical, because it attaches “apparent” to the wrong word — it should be attached to a verb, not a noun, and thus be an adverb, “apparently.” (Not to give the next section away, but if you do use an adverb, be sure to put it in the right place: “she died, apparently of a heart attack, not “she “apparently died of a heart attack.”
“Apparent heart attack” is at Stage 3 of Garner’s five-stage Language-Change Index, meaning it is commonly used but should still be avoided “in careful usage.” That, and the admonition in many stylebooks to avoid it, might be enough to discourage you from using it.
Why not?
As Jan Freeman wrote in 2008, the arguments against using “apparent heart attack” “have holes you could drive an ambulance through.” To begin with, if you make “apparent” into the adverb “apparently,” many people will look for the verb it’s modifying, and the only one they’re likely to find in “she died of a heart attack” is “died.” But “died” is pretty final and doesn’t brook much modification. Instead, “apparently” is modifying the preposition phrase “of a heart attack.” But, as we see above, that placement can cause palpitations of its own. Why replace one problem with another?
As the editors of The Associated Press Stylebook say in the online “Ask the Editor” archive, “apparent” is “an accepted method of indicating that while the hallmarks seem clear, the news report is preliminary pending an official conclusion.” In other words, use it only when you must, but when you must, it’s OK.
Almost no one will misunderstand “an apparent heart attack,” except perhaps the occasional conspiracy theorist, convinced the “apparent heart attack” was actually an undetectable poison administered by a secretive multinational cartel. And we use adjectives and adverbs loosely all the time—“literally” when we don’t mean it literally, for example.
So what to do? Make up your own mind, based on your style guide and audience. But if you see an editor clutching his chest as he reads “apparent heart attack,” you’ll know which way to go.
Merrill Perlman managed copy desks across the newsroom at the New York Times, where she worked for twenty-five years. Follow her on Twitter at @meperl.