This Is Not the Grammatical Promised Land
I recently became aware of a column in the Chicago Daily Herald by the paper’s managing editor, Jim Baumann, who has taken upon himself the name Grammar Moses. In his debut column, he’s quick to point out that he’s not like the real Moses—“My tablets are not carved in stone. Grammar is a fluid thing.”
He goes on to say, “Some of the rules we learned in high school have evolved with us. For instance, I don’t know a lot of people outside of church who still employ ‘thine’ in common parlance.” (He was taught in high school to use thine in common parlance?)
But then he ends—after a rather lengthy windup—with the old shibboleth of using anxious to mean eager. He says that “generally speaking, the word you’re grasping for is ‘eager,’” ending with the admonition, “Write carefully!”
But as Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of English Usage notes, this rule is an invention in American usage dating to the early 1900s, and anxious had been used to mean eager for 160 years before the rule proscribing this use was invented. They conclude, “Anyone who says that careful writers do not use anxious in its ‘eager’ sense has simply not examined the available evidence.”
Not a good start for a column that aims for a grammatical middle ground.
And Baumann certainly seems to think he’s aiming for the middle ground. In a later column, he says, “Grammarians fall along a spectrum. There are the fundamentalists, who hold their 50-year-old texts as close to their bosoms as one might a Bible. There are the libertines, who believe that if it feels or sounds right, use it. . . . You’ll find me somewhere in the middle.” He again insists that he’s not a grammar fundamentalist before launching into more invented rules: the supposed misuse of like to mean “such as” or “including” and feel to mean “think”.
He says, “If you listen to a car dealer’s pitch that a new SUV has features like anti-lock brakes and a deluxe stereo, do you really know what you’re getting? Nope. Because ‘like’ means similar to, but not the same.” The argument here is simple, straightforward, and completely wrong.
First, it assumes an overly narrow definition of like. Second, it pretends complete ignorance of any meaning outside of that narrow definition. If a car salesperson tells you that a new SUV has features like anti-lock brakes and a deluxe stereo, you know exactly what you’re getting. In technical terms, pretending that you don’t understand someone is called engaging in uncooperative communication. In layman’s terms, it’s called being an ass.
And yet, strangely, Baumann promotes this rule on the basis of clarity. He says that if something is clear to 9 out of 10 readers, then it’s acceptable, but if you can write something that’s clear to all your readers, then that’s even better. While it’s certainly a good idea to make sure your writing is clear to everyone, I’m also fairly certain that no one would be legitimately confused by “features like anti-lock brakes”. Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of English Usage doesn’t have much to say on the subject, but it lists several examples and says, “In none of the examples that follow can you detect any ambiguity of meaning.” The supposed lack of clarity simply isn’t there.
Baumann ends by saying, “The lesson is: Think about whom you’re talking to and learn to appreciate his or her or their sensitivities. Then you will achieve clarity.” The problem is that we don’t really know who our readers are and what their sensitivities are. Instead we simply internalize new rules that we learn, and then we project them onto a sort of perversely idealized reader, one who is not merely bothered by such alleged misuses but is impossibly confused by them. How do we know that they’re really confused—or even just irritated—by like to mean “such as” or “including”? We don’t. We just assume that they’re out there and that it’s our job to protect them.
My advice is to try to be as informed as possible about the rules. Be curious, and be willing to question not just others’ claims about the language but also your own assumptions. Read a lot, and pay attention to how good writing works. Get a good usage dictionary and use it. And don’t follow Grammar Moses unless you like wandering in the grammatical wilderness.