NON­ERRORS

NON­ERRORS: (Those usages people keep telling you are wrong but which are actually standard in English.)

Split infinitives

For the hyper­critical, "to boldly go where no man has gone before" should be " to go boldly. . . ." It is good to be aware that inserting one or more words between "to" and a verb is not strictly speaking an error, and is often more expressive and graceful than moving the intervening words elsewhere; but so many people are offended by split infinitives that it is better to avoid them except when the alternatives sound strained and awkward.

Ending a sentence with a preposition

A fine example of an artificial "rule" which ignores standard usage. The famous witticism usually attributed to Winston Churchill makes the point well: "This is the sort of pedantry up with which I cannot put."

See "The American Heritage Book of English Usage" at

http://www.bartleby.com/64/C001/050.html. Jack Lynch has some sensible

comments on this issue:

http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/Writing/p.html#prepend.

The saying attributed to Winston Churchill rejecting the rule against ending a sentence with a preposition must be among the most frequently mutated witticisms ever. I have received many notes from correspondents claiming to know what the "original saying" was, but none of them cites an authoritative source.

The alt.english.usage FAQ states that the story originated with an anecdote in Sir Ernest Gowers' Plain Words (1948). Supposedly an editor had clumsily rearranged one of Churchill's sentences to avoid ending it in a preposition, and the Prime Minister, very proud of his style, scribbled this note in reply: "This is the sort of English up with which I will not put." The American Heritage Book of English Usage agrees.

The FAQ goes on to say that the Oxford Companion to the English Language (no edition cited) states that the original was "This is the sort of bloody nonsense up with which I will not put." To me this sounds more likely, and eagerness to avoid the offensive word "bloody" would help to explain the proliferation of variations.

A quick search of the Internet turned up an astonishing number. In this era of copy­and­paste it's truly unusual to find such rich variety. The narrative context varies too: sometimes the person rebuked by Churchill is a correspondent, a speech editor, a bureaucrat, or an audience member at a speech and sometimes it is a man, sometimes a woman, and sometimes even a young student. Sometimes Churchill writes a note, sometimes he scribbles the note on the corrected manuscript, and often he is said to have spoken the rebuke aloud. The text concerned was variously a book manuscript, a speech, an article, or a government document.

Here is just a sample of the variations circulating on the Net:

1. That is a rule up with which I will not put. 2. This is the

kind of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put. 3. This is the

type of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put. 4. Not ending a sentence with a preposition is a bit of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put. 5. That is the sort of nonsense up with which I will not put 6. This is insubordination, up with which I will not put!

1. This is the sort of nonsense up with which I will not put.

2. This is the sort of thing up with which I will not put.

3. Madame, that is a rule up with which I shall not put.

One poor soul, unfamiliar with the word "arrant," came up with: "That is the sort of errant criticism up with which I will not put."

Then there are those who get it so scrambled it comes out backward:

1. Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put. 2. Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which we will not put. 3.From now on, ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put. 4. Please

understand that ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I shall not put.

I checked the indexes of a dozen Churchill biographies, but none of them had an entry for "prepositions."

Ben Zimmer has presented evidence on the alt.usage.english list that this story was not originally attributed to Churchill at all, but to an anonymous official in an article in "The Strand" magazine. Since Churchill often contributed to "The Strand," Zimmer argues, it would certainly have identified him if he had been the official in question. It is not clear how the anecdote came to be attributed to Churchill by Gowers, but it seems to have circulated independently earlier.

Beginning a sentence with a conjunction

It offends those who wish to confine English usage in a logical straitjacket that writers often begin sentences with "and" or "but." True, one should be aware that many such sentences would be improved by becoming clauses in compound sentences; but there are many effective and traditional uses for beginning sentences thus. One example is the reply to a previous assertion in a dialogue: "But, my dear Watson, the criminal obviously wore expensive boots or he would not have taken such pains to scrape them clean." Make it a rule to consider whether your conjunction would repose more naturally within the previous sentence or would lose in useful emphasis by being demoted from its position at the head of a new sentence.

Using "between" for only two, "among" for more

The "­tween" in "between" is clearly linked to the number two; but, as the Oxford English Dictionary notes, "In all senses, between has, from its earliest appearance, been extended to more than two." We're talking about Anglo­Saxon here­­early. Pedants have labored to enforce "among" when there are three or more objects under discussion, but largely in vain. Even the pickiest speaker does not naturally say, "A treaty has been negotiated among England, France, and Germany."

Over vs. more than.

Some people insist that "over" cannot be used to signify "more than," as in "Over a thousand baton­twirlers marched in the parade." "Over," they insist, always refers to something physically higher: say, the blimp hovering over the parade route. This absurd distinction ignores the role metaphor plays in language. If I write 1 on the blackboard and 10 beside it, 10 is still the "higher" number. "Over" has been used in the sense of "more than" for over a thousand years.

Feeling bad

"I feel bad" is standard English, as in "This t­shirt smells bad" (not "badly"). "I feel badly" is an incorrect hyper­correction by people who think they know better than the masses. People who are happy can correctly say they feel good, but if they say they feel well, we know

they mean to say they're healthy.

Forward vs. forwards

Although some style books prefer "forward" and "toward" to "forwards" and "towards," none of these forms is really incorrect, though the forms without the final "S" are perhaps a smidgen more formal. The spelling "foreword" applies exclusively to the introductory matter in a book.

Gender/sex

When discussing males and females, feminists wanting to remove references to sexuality from contexts which don't involve mating or reproduction revived an older meaning of "gender" which had come to refer in modern times chiefly to language, as a synonym for "sex" in phrases such as "Our goal is to achieve gender equality." Americans, always nervous about sex, eagerly embraced this usage, which is now standard. In some scholarly fields, "sex" is used to label biologically determined aspects of maleness and femaleness (reproduction, etc.) while "gender" refers to their socially determined aspects (behavior, attitudes, etc.); but in ordinary speech this distinction is not always maintained. It is disingenuous to pretend that people who use "gender" in the new senses are making an error, just as it is disingenuous to maintain that "Ms." means "manuscript" (that's "MS" ). Nevertheless, I must admit I was startled to discover that the tag on my new trousers describes not only their size and color, but their "gender."

Using "who" for people, "that" for animals and inanimate objects.

In fact there are many instances in which the most conservative usage is to refer to a person using "that": "All the politicians that were at the party later denied even knowing the host" is actually somewhat more traditional than the more popular "politicians who." An aversion to "that" referring to human beings as somehow diminishing their humanity may be praiseworthily sensitive, but it cannot claim the authority of tradition. In some sentences, "that" is clearly preferable to "who": "She is the only person I know of that prefers whipped cream on her granola." In the following example, to exchange "that" for "who" would be absurd: "Who was it that said, 'A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle'?"*

*Commonly attributed to Gloria Steinem, but she attributes it to Irina Dunn.

"Since" cannot mean "because."

"Since" need not always refer to time. Since the 14th century, when it was often spelled "syn," it has also meant "seeing that" or "because."

Hopefully

This word has meant "it is to be hoped" for a very long time, and those who insist it can only mean "in a hopeful fashion" display more hopefulness than realism.

Momentarily

"The plane will be landing momentarily" says the flight attendant, and the grumpy grammarian in seat 36B thinks to himself, "So we're going to touch down for just a moment?" Everyone else thinks, "Just a moment now before we land." Back in the 1920s when this use of "momentarily" was first spreading on both sides of the Atlantic, one might have been accused of misusing the word; but by now it's listed without comment as one of the standard definitions in most dictionaries.

Lend vs. loan

"Loan me your hat" was just as correct everywhere as "lend me your ears" until the British made "lend" the preferred verb, relegating "loan" to the thing being lent. However, as in so many cases, Americans kept the older pattern, which in its turn has influenced modern British usage so that those insisting that "loan" can only be a noun are in the minority.

Scan vs. skim

Those who insist that "scan" can never be a synonym of "skim" have lost the battle. It is true that the word originally meant "to scrutinize," but it has now evolved into one of those unfortunate words with two opposite meanings: to examine closely (now rare) and to glance at quickly (much more common). It would be difficult to say which of these two meanings is more prominent in the computer­related usage, to "scan a document."

Regime vs. regimen

Some people insist that "regime" should be used only in reference to governments, and that people who say they are following a dietary regime should instead use "regimen"; but "regime" has been a synonym of "regimen" for over a century, and is widely accepted in that sense.

Near miss

It is futile to protest that "near miss" should be "near collision." This expression is a condensed version of something like "a miss that came very near to being a collision," and is similar to "narrow escape." Everyone knows what is meant by it and almost everyone uses it. It should be noted that the expression can also be used in the sense of almost succeeding in striking a desired target: "His Cointreau souffle was a near miss."

"None" singular vs. plural

Some people insist that since "none" is derived from "no one" it should always be singular: "none of us is having dessert." However, in standard usage, the word is most often treated as a plural. "None of us are having dessert" will do just fine.

Off of

For most Americans, the natural thing to say is "Climb down off of [pronounced " offa" ] that horse, Tex, with your hands in the air;" but many UK authorities urge that the "of" should be omitted as redundant. Where British English reigns you may want to omit the "of" as superfluous, but common usage in the US has rendered "off of" so standard as to generally pass unnoticed, though some American authorities also discourage it in formal writing. But if "onto" makes sense, so does "off of." However, "off of" meaning "from" in phrases like "borrow five dollars off of Clarice" is definitely nonstandard.

Til/until

Since it looks like an abbreviation for "until," some people argue that this word should always be spelled "'til" (though not all insist on the apostrophe). However, "till" has regularly occurred as a spelling of this word for over 800 years and it's actually older than "until." It is perfectly good English.

"Teenage" vs. "teenaged"

Some people object that the word should be "teenaged," but unlike the still nonstandard "ice tea" and "stain glass," "teenage" is almost universally accepted now.

Don't use "reference" to mean "cite."

Nouns are often turned into verbs in English, and "reference" in the sense "to provide references or citations" has become so widespread that it's generally acceptable, though some teachers and editors still object.

unquote/endquote

Some people get upset at the common pattern by which speakers frame a quotation by saying "quote . . . unquote," insisting that the latter word should logically be "endquote"; but illogical as it may be, "unquote" has been used in this way for about a century, and "endquote" is nonstandard.

Persuade vs. convince

Some people like to distinguish between these two words by insisting that you persuade people until you have convinced them; but "persuade" as a synonym for "convince" goes back at least to the 16th century. It can mean both to attempt to convince and to succeed. It is no longer common to say things like "I am persuaded that you are an illiterate fool," but even this usage is not in itself wrong.

Normalcy vs. normality

The word "normalcy" had been around for more than half a century when President Warren G. Harding was assailed in the newspapers for having

used it in a 1921 speech. Some folks are still upset; but in the US "normalcy" is a perfectly normal­­if uncommon­­synonym for "normality."

Aggravate vs. irritate Some people claim that "aggravate" can only mean "make worse" and should not be used to mean "irritate"; but the latter has been a valid use of the word for four centuries, and "aggravation" means almost exclusively "irritation."

You shouldn't pronounce the "e" in "not my forte."

Some people insist that it's an error to pronounce the word "forte" in the expression "not my forte" as if French­derived "forte" were the same as the Italian musical term for "loud": "for­tay." But the original French expression is "pas mon fort," which not only has no "e" on the end to pronounce­­it has a silent "t" as well. It's too bad that when we imported this phrase we mangled it so badly, but it's too late to do anything about it now. If you go around saying what sounds like "that's not my fort," people won't understand what you mean.

However, those who use the phrase to mean "not to my taste" ("Wagnerian opera is not my forte") are definitely mistaken. Your forte is what you're good at, not just stuff you like.

"Preventive" is the adjective, "preventative" the noun.

I must say I like the sound of this distinction, but in fact the two are interchangeable as both nouns and adjectives, though many prefer "preventive" as being shorter and simpler. "Preventative" used as an adjective dates back to the 17th century, as does "preventive" as a noun.

People are healthy; vegetables are healthful.

Logic and tradition are on the side of those who make this distinction, but I'm afraid phrases like "part of a healthy breakfast" have become so widespread that they are rarely perceived as erroneous except by the hyper­correct. On a related though slightly different subject, it is interesting to note that in English adjectives connected to sensations in the perceiver of an object or event are often transferred to the object or event itself. In the 19th century it was not uncommon to refer, for instance, to a "grateful shower of rain," and we still say "a gloomy landscape," "a cheerful sight" and "a happy coincidence."

Crops are raised; children are reared.

Old­fashioned writers insist that you raise crops and rear children; but in modern American English children are usually "raised."

Dinner is done; people are finished.

I pronounce this an antiquated distinction rarely observed in modern speech. Nobody really supposes the speaker is saying he or she has been roasted to a turn. In older usage people said, "I have done" to indicate they had completed an action. "I am done" is not really so very

different.

"You've got mail" should be "you have mail."

The "have" contracted in phrases like this is merely an auxiliary verb, not an expression of possession. It is not a redundancy. Compare: "You've sent the mail."

it's "cut the muster," not "cut the mustard."

This etymology seems plausible at first. Its proponents often trace it to the American Civil War. We do have the analogous expression "to pass muster," which probably first suggested this alternative; but although the origins of "cut the mustard" are somewhat obscure, the latter is definitely the form used in all sorts of writing throughout the twentieth century. Common sense would suggest that a person cutting a muster is not someone being selected as fit, but someone eliminating the unfit.

Here is the article on "cut the mustard" from the "faq" (frequently asked questions list) of the UseNet newsgroup alt.usage.english:

This expression meaning "to achieve the required standard" is first recorded in an O. Henry story of 1902: "So I looked around and found a proposition [a woman] that exactly cut the mustard."

It may come from a cowboy expression, "the proper mustard", meaning "the genuine thing", and a resulting use of "mustard" to denote the best of anything. O. Henry in Cabbages and Kings (1894) called mustard "the main attraction": "I'm not headlined in the bills, but I'm the mustard in the salad dressing, just the same." Figurative use of "mustard" as a positive superlative dates from 1659 in the phrase "keen as mustard", and use of "cut" to denote rank (as in "a cut above") dates from the 18th century.

Other theories are that it is a corruption of the military phrase "to pass muster" ("muster", from Latin "monstrare"="to show", means "to assemble (troops), as for inspection"); that it refers to the practice of adding vinegar to ground­up mustard seed to "cut" the bitter taste; that it literally means "cut mustard" as an example of a difficult task, mustard being a relatively tough crop that grows close to the ground; and that it literally means "cut mustard" as an example of an easy task (via the negative expression "can't even cut the mustard"), mustard being easier to cut at the table than butter.

The more­or­less synonymous expression "cut it" (as in "sorry, doesn't cut it") seems to be more recent and may derive from "cut the mustard".

it's "carrot on a stick," not "carrot or stick."

Authoritative dictionaries agree, the original expression refers to offering to reward a stubborn mule or donkey with a carrot or threatening to beat it with a stick and not to a carrot being dangled

from a stick.

The Usenet Newsgroup alt.usage.english has debated this expression several times. No one there presented definitive evidence, but dictionaries agree the proper expression is "the carrot or the stick".

One person on the Web mentions an old "Little Rascals" short in which an animal was tempted to forward motion by a carrot dangling from a stick. I think the image is much older than that, going back to old magazine cartoons (certainly older than the animated cartoons referred to by correspondents on alt.usage.english); but I'll bet that the cartoon idea stemmed from loose association with the original phrase "the carrot or the stick" rather than the other way around. An odd variant is the claim broadcast on National Public Radio March 21, 1999 that one Zebediah Smith originated this technique of motivating stubborn animals. This is almost certainly an urban legend.

Note that the people who argue for "carrot on a stick" never cite any documentable early use of the supposed "correct" expression. For the record, here's what the Supplement to the Oxford English Dictionary has to say on the subject: "carrot, sb. Add: 1. a. fig. [With allusion to the proverbial method of tempting a donkey to move by dangling a carrot before it.] An enticement, a promised or expected reward; freq. contrasted with "stick" (=punishment) as the alternative."

[Skipping references to uses as early as 1895 which refer only to the carrot so don't clear up the issue.]

"1948 Economist 11 Dec. 957/2 The material shrinking of rewards and lightening of penalties, the whittling away of stick and carrot. [Too bad the Economist's writer switched the order in the second part of this example, but the distinction is clear.]

"1954 J. A. C. Brown Social Psychol.of Industry i. 15 The tacit implication that . . . most men . . . are . . . solely motivated by fear or greed (a motive now described as " the carrot or the stick")

"1963 Listener 21 Feb. 321/2 Once Gomulka had thrown away the stick of collectivization, he was compelled to rely on the carrot of a price system favourable to the peasant."

The debate has been confused from time to time by imagining one stick from which the carrot is dangled and another kept in reserve as a whip; but I imagine that the original image in the minds of those who developed this expression was a donkey or mule laden with cargo rather than being ridden, with its master alternately holding a carrot in front of the animal's nose (by hand, not on a stick) and threatening it with a switch. Two sticks are too many to make for a neat expression.

For me, the clincher is that no one actually cites the form of the "original expression." In what imaginable context would it possibly be witty or memorable to say that someone or something had been motivated by a carrot on a stick? Why not an apple on a stick, or a bag of oats? Boring, right? Not something likely to pass into popular usage.

This saying belongs to the same general family as "you can draw more flies with honey than with vinegar." It is never used except when such contrast is implied.

This and other popular etymologies fit under the heading aptly called by the English "too clever by half."

People should say a book is titled such­and­such rather than "entitled."

No less a writer than Chaucer is cited by the Oxford English Dictionary as having used "entitled" in this sense, the very first meaning of the word listed by the OED. It may be a touch pretentious, but it's not wrong.

"Spitting image" should be "spit and image."

According to the Oxford English Dictionary the earlier form was "spitten image," which may indeed have evolved from "spit and image." it's a crude figure of speech: someone else is enough like you to have been spat out by you, made of the very stuff of your body. In the early 20th century the spelling and pronunciation gradually shifted to the less logical "spitting image," which is now standard. it's too late to go back. There is no historical basis for the claim sometimes made that the original expression was "spirit and image."

"Lion's share" means all of something, not the larger part of something.

Even though the original meaning of this phrase reflected the idea that the lion can take whatever he wants­­typically all of the slaughtered game, leaving nothing for anyone else­­in modern usage the meaning has shifted to "the largest share." This makes great sense if you consider the way hyenas and vultures swarm over the leftovers from a typical lion's kill.

"Connoisseur" should be spelled "connaisseur."

When we borrowed this word from the French in the 18th century, it was spelled "connoisseur." Is it our fault the French later decided to shift the spelling of many OI words to the more phonetically accurate AI? Of those Francophone purists who insist we should follow their example I say, let 'em eat "bifteck."

(Common Errors in English by Paul Brians)