Thankfully, the leading name candidates for this decade are much more accessible and specific.

The first candidate is “two-thousand-(and)-ten.” This would be the natural continuation of what we’ve been doing the past decade. “Two-thousand-ten” sounds just fine for the next few years, but once we get to the actual teen years, saying the year will be a mouthful. An extra syllable matters in radio and television news, where time is tightly budgeted. “Two thousand–ten” might be too much for newscasters who generally try to make every word count. Opponents of this option say we should not waste precious syllables when we could just shorten it down further.

The next candidate is “twenty-ten.” It is much more concise than “two-thousand-ten.” Unfortunately, I do not believe that we are ready for “twenty-ten” just yet. While there is precedent in pronouncing years by dividing them into halves (like nineteen-ninety-four), “twenty-ten” just sounds way too futuristic. When I hear that, my mind immediately evokes images of interstellar travel, hover boards and teleportation chambers. We haven’t even had a space odyssey yet. By the end of this year, we should have had at least two! Opponents of this option cite the pronunciation precedent of the past 10 years as why we shouldn’t stray into this syllable-challenged option.

The argument does seem somewhat trivial, but a decision reached early can affect different areas of life, but most notably, advertising and broadcasting.

News broadcasters often set precedent, since the year is said multiple times during an episode. Broadcasters might prefer “twenty-ten” to “two-thousand-ten” because it frees up an extra syllable that could be better used on something else. One syllable is awfully negligible. Not much can be done in that brief moment; unless you want to start writing that novel you’ve been meaning to get around to (but only one second at a time).

Advertisers might want to alternate between the two options, depending on the product being advertised. Saying “Madden two-thousand-eleven” sounds much more awkward than saying “Madden twenty-eleven.”

“Two-thousand-ten” also has more gravitas than “twenty-ten.” “Twenty-ten” is for people who have no time to waste on things like “words,” “sleep” and “breathing.” The first option gives more opportunity for dramatic usage. The only time “twenty-ten” would come close is if, for some strange reason, a super villain threatens to destroy the earth before the 2012 conspiracy theorists do first.

There are other arguments besides these. In an NPR news story, this very question is posited to the people who have stakes in a side winning.

One man in the article sees “twenty-ten” as simple common sense. The main reason we likely changed pronunciation during the past decade was fascination with a completely new millennium.

Another man in the NPR story thinks that “twenty-ten” is the immature and informal way of pronouncing the year. This makes sense. Young adults seem to be constantly busy. The truncated version fits in more with our generation’s acronym-heavy vocabulary. Conversely, older people may just keep using the first option because it was the way it’s been pronounced for them their whole lives when describing something in the 2000s.

While a true consensus might never be reached, I propose a sort of compromise. Use “two-thousand-ten” for this year, 2011 and 2012. Beginning with 2013, use “twenty–(insert year).” This way, both sides can be happy for a bit, and hopefully by 2013, enough flying cars and hover boards will exist to warrant using the more concise, futuristic pronunciation.

Justin Covington is a State News guest columnist and a political science junior. Reach him at coving27@msu.edu.