Every so often, terminology causes turbulence in newsrooms. Our coverage of the near-disaster of Air Transat Flight 236, for instance, prompted this e-mail:

"Jumbo" strictly refers to Boeing 747. No other planes are called "Jumbo Jets." The CP style guide is wrong. Thanks, Michael Bromley Regina

Was our description of the massive, powerless aircraft gliding over the Atlantic Ocean a few months ago inaccurate?

The Airbus A-330 that made the terrifying emergency landing on the Azores Islands Aug. 24, 2001 didn't have propeller blades. And with enough room for more than 300 people, it could clearly be classified as rather big.

But was it a "jumbo jet," as we claimed in a couple of stories? And, if so, did it need a capital "J" – in other words, would it be proper to consider the term proprietary?

BROAD DEFINITION

Most dictionaries, including Oxford and Webster's, define "jumbo jet" as any wide-bodied jet plane that can carry several hundred passengers. The 1999 Canadian Press Stylebook cites the DC-10, Boeing 747, Lockheed L-1011 and Airbus as examples.

The Canadian Oxford Dictionary, which also describes "jumbo jet" as any large airliner with jet engines, points out that the term is "usually applied specifically to the Boeing 747." But this observation in no way suggests jumbo must be limited to 747s.

Indeed, the adjective's meaning remains as roomy as the fattest fuselage – an Old French word for "spindle" that airplane makers borrowed from the sewing industry. It's not the only pilfering we can pin on them.

JUNGLE TERRAIN

Jumbo has roots that are tied to a very large trunk. It was the name of a gigantic African bull elephant at the London Zoo in England in the 1860s and 70s.

The animal, standing about four metres and weighing more than six tonnes, gave rides to children and a nudge to the direction of one word in English. By the time P.T. Barnum purchased the pachyderm for his circus in 1882, Jumbo was already a popular synonym for big.

Although the elephant was struck by a freight train and killed while on a tour of Canada three years later, his name lives on in everyday speech – from the description of ice cream cones to airplanes. In 1985, a statue was erected near the accident site in St. Thomas, Ont.

Boeing dubbed its first 747s "Jumbo Jets" more than 30 years ago, and is still mighty proud of the design. Its Web site, for instance, boasts about the U.S. Postal Service issuing a 33-cent stamp in 1999 to honour the 747 as one of the top three aviation achievements of the 20th century (along with the Wright brothers' first flight, and Charles Lindbergh's solo crossing of the Atlantic.)

The company claims it makes "the only airplane with a name that's a household word," but this statement actually refers to numbers (747) not letters. The moniker "jumbo jet" is not owned by Boeing or anyone else, unlike proprietary terms like Jetfoil or Jell-O, and in the wild jungle known as the English language this fact makes a mammoth difference.

CAPITAL OFFENCE

"Something as small as an Aspirin can cause big headaches on the Web," warns the CBC's 2001 style guide for online staff. That's because the word has trademark protection in Canada and, so, requires a capital "A."

Before Canada's public broadcaster became a publisher on the Internet, we rarely had to worry about such spelling rules – except perhaps if a television report included full-screen graphics or text superimposed over pictures. But CBC News Online must now follow rigorous guidelines that have governed print journalists for years, including strict observance of trademarked terms.

Companies consider certain names commercial assets, and they're opposed to writers treating these branded products like any other words. Journalists who strive to be accurate and fair carefully distinguish between what's generic and what isn't. So we end up with sentences like, "Its a Band-Aid solution" and "No Polaroids in the Jacuzzi please."

Some news organizations recommend jettisoning the heavyweight nouns and adjectives whenever possible. In the last paragraph about Polaroids and Jacuzzis, for instance, you could write: "No snapshots in the hot tub."

But this advice goes only so far, and sometimes we're left with few options. Consider Frisbee. The 1998 Globe and Mail Style Book points out that "no generic term would mean anything to the reader – throwing the disc? – so we use the trade name, upper-case." Globe editors also point out that stories may simply "sound less stilted if we say someone stopped off for a Coke, or was curled up with a sad novel and a box of Kleenex."

LAW OF GRAVITY

Over time trademarked terms can lose their special status and capital letters. Examples of this rise and fall include trampoline and yo-yo.

Trademark lawyers refer to it as "debasement," and it can happen in different countries at different times. Thermos, for instance, became a generic term in the United States in 1962 but was still protected in Canada for several more years. Originally an old Greek word for "hot," it remains a trademarked name in Britain today, according to the New Oxford Dictionary of English.

The Canadian Press Stylebook lists more than a dozen previously protected words that are now generic in this country, including: cellophane, corn flakes, dry ice, escalator, kerosene, linoleum, milk of magnesia, and nylon.

But some capital letters seem to stick like Velcro. Although Aspirin and Kleenex are now in the public domain in the United States, for instance, they're still actively guarded by companies in Canada.

Trademark classifications in dictionaries are sometimes out of date. The latest list of protected terms can be found in the Canadian Trade Index, updated annually and available on the Internet or at most large libraries. Here is a sample of what newsrooms have to watch for:

Baggies Band-Aid Bic pen Chiclets Cream of Wheat Crisco Dictaphone Frigidaire Frisbee Fudgsicle Hush Puppies Jacuzzi Javex Jell-O Kleenex

Laundromat Masonite Minute rice Mixmaster Muzak Plexiglas Popsicle Q-Tips Scotch tape Stetson hat Styrofoam Teflon Touch-Tone TV Dinner Vaseline

In a few cases, you come across words that can be either trademarked or generic, depending on the context. The military vehicle known as a jeep, for instance, is not treated the same as a Jeep, and there's a difference between feeding children Pablum and the masses pabulum.

Journalists are in no danger of landing in trouble with jumbo jet, since it's a generic term. But the Oxford Guide to Canadian English Usage strongly advises writers to pay attention to other words that enjoy legal protection:

"Sometimes, when a usage that infringes on a trademark appears in a publication that is widely circulated and influential, such as a dictionary or large-circulation newspaper, the owners of the trademark take legal action against the publisher. For this reason it is standard practice in certain kinds of writing, particularly journalism, to capitalize all trademarks."

OMNIBUS CONCLUSION

If elephants can fly, it's really not a stretch to put wings on buses. The term Airbus has been around for decades. Bus is actually short for omnibus, which in turn is based on a Latin term ("omnis") that means all. It gave birth to the French expression "voiture omnibus" – carriage for everyone.

Is an Airbus really a high-altitude coach for the masses? Seat sales on flights are still out of the reach of many people, after all, so some might challenge the aviation industry's use of "bus." But English is not in the habit of obeying such narrow restrictions. Plucky words soar, twirl and dive again like aerobatics craft in search of cheering crowds.

Planes, in fact, have been known as flying "buses" since early last century – almost from the first days of aviation. Airbus is not only a widely accepted term, now, it's also legally protected by a consortium based in Europe. This leaves writers and speakers with jumbo jet as a catch-all collocation for gigantic plane, and Airbus as a far-less omnibus cousin – applying only to a specific type of aircraft.

There is no doubt that the 747 came first, and remains dear to the hearts of many people who don't even work at Boeing. The "Queen of the Skies," as it was also known back in the 1970s, set a new standard for the number of travellers who could zoom across vast distances in comfort. But just as jet lag doesn't apply to only one time zone in the world, jumbo jet is not restricted to one aircraft. It's also not protected by law, which means capital letters are not needed.

There may be changes on the horizon, however. Last year Airbus announced plans to build the world's biggest passenger plane. It's expected to have two decks, shops, sleeping areas, an exercise room, and be able to carry more than 650 people. The $12 billion US project is a direct challenge to Boeing's market.

What will this jetliner be called? The name "Super Jumbo Airbus" is already being bandied about – an example, perhaps, of how lovers of language sometimes need skin as thick as an elephant's hide to put up with all the mumbo-jumbo.

The Greeks, who had a colossal influence on English, gave us a term for this very condition: pachyderm. By the way, that rumbling you feel is not a plane passing overhead. It's an old circus star rolling in his grave.