For someone with a Ph.D. in English, I have surprisingly few pet peeves when it comes to grammatical errors. Of course, that’s true of most people with advanced degrees in English. At a certain point, we come to realize that language is descriptive, not prescriptive. In other words, the purpose of language is to describe our experience of the world–not to apply a specific set of rules to how people do this.
Don’t believe me? Look at the difference between The New York Times and a William Faulkner novel. Both are written in English. Both have won many awards. But Faulkner is describing the complexity of human existence–often by breaking all the rules–while journalists work hard to describe complex experiences as simply and clearly as possible. They always play by the rules.
It drives me nuts when people assume that I walk through the world prepared to call them out on their grammatical mistakes. Honestly, I have better things to do. And the fact of the matter is, grammar “errors” are a problem only when they get in the way of clarity. Colloquial language isn’t incorrect. It’s just informal.
Here’s a list of popular grammar “rules” which are either nonsensical or no longer applicable to the world our language is trying to describe.
You can’t end a sentence with a preposition.
This rule was borrowed from Latin, where it’s actually impossible to write a correct sentence that ends with a preposition. English is not such a difficult language to work with. (See? I just ended that sentence with a preposition. You understood what I was saying. The world did not end.)
There has never been a good reason for this rule. Feel free to forget it.
The plural “they” cannot be used as a gender-neutral singular pronoun.
Long before the American Dialect Society declared “they” its Word of the Year for 2015, people were using it this way. For instance: “If someone from the doctor’s office calls, tell them I’ll call back later.” Someone is singular. Them is plural.
We’ve been using “they” to represent individual people of unspecified gender ever since we stopped assuming that all the important people in the world are male. The argument insisting that everyone must be referred to as a singular he or she is not about grammar. It’s about insisting that everyone declares a gender, and that there are only two choices.
That idea, like this supposed rule, is woefully out of date.
You don’t need a comma before the word “and” in a list of items.
Ah, the eternal debate over the serial comma–also known as the Oxford comma. It’s a stylistic choice, not a grammar rule. If you’re writing for a specific publication, they probably have a policy with regard to this comma. Most of the time, it’s just a matter of preference. (If your’e curious, I am #TeamOxfordComma all the way.)
Sometimes it really doesn’t matter: “Bring me paper, a pen, and the stapler” reads the same as “Bring me paper, a pen and a stapler.” In other sentences, that final comma matters more: “I love my sisters, Lady Gaga, and Pringles” reads differently from “I love my sisters, Lady Gaga and Pringles.” The speaker’s meaning is the same, but our understanding might leave us wondering who would name their child Pringles.
If the first item in a list is plural (like sisters, in the example above), the serial comma is often helpful to making yourself as clear as possible. But even in those cases, it’s not required.
It’s “If I were going to that party,” not “If I was going to that party.”
Let’s just accept the fact that the subjunctive–which we use to speculate on possibilities–is fading away in English. Not so in other languages, but who cares? There’s no Bureau of World Languages keeping score on who’s doing what. The idea that losing the subjunctive is the death knell for English makes sense only if you believe that “If I was going to the funeral, I’d wear a black dress” makes no sense.
Personally, I have zero trouble understanding that sentence. Ding dong, the mood is dead.
You can’t start a sentence with and, but, or however.
Actually, you can. And you should. But probably not every sentence you write, because that would be annoying. However, if that’s your thing, go for it.
Conjunctions are used for linking ideas, so they typically appear in the middle of a sentence, where the main ideas are. But there’s absolutely no reason why and or but can’t create that linkage at the start of a sentence. Because often does, and no one objects.
However is a little trickier. It’s an adverb, and it can create confusion if it’s used as a conjunction in the middle of a sentence, but there’s rarely a problem with using it to start a sentence.
I once had a colleague insist that I’d written a run-on sentence because I’d started it with and. He was so unconvinced by my explanation of why my sentence was grammatically correct that he asked the dean of the Honors College–also a Ph.D. in English, but older and male, which apparently gave him an authority I did not have–for verification. To his credit, though, he came back to me later and admitted that I’d been right.
“It’s really hard to let go of those rules we learn early on, even if it turns out they were wrong,” he said.
Language changes along with the people who speak it and the culture it’s describing. New words pop up; old words (and letters) disappear. We no longer use the Old English word soþlice, for instance, which means “truly,” though I wish we did. It’s a really cool word.
And sometimes, old rules no longer apply to the new world. If you enjoy serving as a member of the Grammar Police, I would encourage you to keep that in mind.
5 Comments
I love a good grammar post! I break a lot of “rules” that are OK to be broken (I start SO many sentences with And, But, etc.) but can always use some other reminders. I am not a fan of the Oxford comma myself 🙂 Great tips!
This is so helpful. I’ve been obsessively using the Oxford comma and am glad I can relax about that one and the others you listed. Ahhhh, I feel better.
Thank YOU!!
Well, as you know, I’m in total agreement about those zombie “rules.” Of course I have my peeves (“different than,” “comprised of,”) but I know that language is always changing and the only thing I can do is deplore it quietly, the way I deplore the man-bun. If somebody asks–“Does this man-bun make me look stupid?”–I’ll give my opinion, but gently, and with the assurance that really, only taste is involved and not eternal damnation.
I am a fan of the man bun, actually–as long as its wearer has sufficient hair to create a bun and not, as I’ve often seen, only enough to create an aspirational suggestion of such. But I suppose that’s no surprise, given that I’m also a fan of the unnecessary but visually appealing Oxford comma.