“Who” and “whom”’ cause all sorts of problems for writers. No one seems to know when to use which one, and whether to even bother with “whom” at all. More on that in a minute.

The basics:
“Who” is a subject pronoun. It is the subject of a verb, even if that verb is in a dependent clause.
“Whom” is an object pronoun. It is the object of a verb or a preposition.

The trick:
Substitute “he” or “him” to determine whether to use “who” or “whom.” If “he” makes sense, use “who.” If “him” makes sense, you can use “whom” (both have an M).
– The employee, who/whom the boss promoted after only six months, ended up doing well in her new post. (The boss promoted HE? No, the boss promoted HIM = whom)
– The employee, who/whom everyone said was incompetent, got promoted after only six months.
(Everyone said HIM was incompetent? No, everyone said HE was incompetent = who). This one is wrong a lot — editors change a lot of overcorrected “whoms.”

The rub:
Usage of “who” and “whom” is in transition, and “whom” is dropping out of English.

If you’re considering pounding the table about that, realize that English used to have case (different forms for subjects and objects) for all nouns, and now it doesn’t. English also used to have subject and object forms for second-person pronouns (it’s all “you” now, in singular and plural, which explains the development of “y’all,” “youse,” “you guys” and so on, but that’s another story) but has dropped that as well. It’s only natural for languages to change, and the English language is a remarkably resilient piece of work — it has changed in all sorts of ways over the centuries, and it has come through just fine. One more change isn’t going to send it tumbling off a cliff to wrack and ruin.

So, back to “whom”: It’s being replaced by “who” everywhere except directly following a preposition.

An interrogative (question) sentence like “Who did you see with my brother?” would have had “whom” in times past, but gets “who” almost exclusively now, unless you’re speaking with an incurable fusspot. Likewise, a declarative sentence like “I saw the neighbor who you’re always talking about” would also have had “whom,” but most people will say “who” these days (or leave it out entirely), because the object is not directly after the preposition.

Garner’s has the above usage at Stage 4 (“Ubiquitous but …,” which is the last stop before “Fully accepted”). Many other usage guides (“Woe is I” and “The Elephants of Style,” to name two) recognize the change and advise using “whom” only in the most formal contexts. Even Theodore Bernstein, not known for playing fast and loose with the rules, noted that “The waves of changes are washing against the pronouns who and whom. As to who, the day is surely coming when it will completely displace whom standing at the head of a sentence or clause …” This was in his 1971 book “Mrs. Thistlebottom’s Hobgoblins.” He went on to say that “the revolution has not yet arrived. It is brewing, though, and it has been for a long time.”

By now, in 2012, it looks like the revolution’s here. Give it a few years of disarray, as most revolutions require, then let it settle down, and wait for “whom” to get the mark of “archaic” in the dictionaries.

Why we need grammar

However, too often “rules” of grammar are used as a cudgel to bash anyone who steps out of line. The cudgel approach causes two problems, though: first, many “rules” that are used to smite the “barbarians” have no basis in English grammar and are just a bunch of peeves that have been passed down for generations; second, the division of people into the “civilized” and the “barbarians” — and the snooty correction of the latter by the former — doesn’t help the cause of clear communication but instead ticks off the people labeled as barbarians and distances them from the value of standard English.

This is not to say that grammar isn’t important, or that there’s no need for a standard of communication, particularly in writing. Good grammar enables readers to center on the message, rather than puzzling over what a sentence is attempting to say. Good grammar, correct spelling and proper punctuation lend credibility and authority to a piece of communication.

But the important thing is that grammar is not a “secret handshake” or code available only to those invited to the club — anyone can learn the rules of standard English. All it takes is time and inclination; like manners, grammar costs nothing. There are hundreds of books out there on grammar, language and writing, many of which are available at your local library or even free for download (make sure you don’t pick one that’s a collection of peeves). Plus, there are a multitude of websites, podcasts, videos and Twitter streams that offer tips and direction — all free.

While grammar costs nothing, ignoring it might cost quite a bit: Research has found that not only do readers notice mistakes, they engage less with websites that have language errors, and they are far less likely to buy something from a website that has even a single misspelling. (Spelling isn’t grammar, but it falls under the broad “rules of language” definition of grammar that many people use.)

So if for no other reason than the bottom line, grammar deserves a celebration. But while we’re at it, let’s go ahead and celebrate the beauty, richness and complexity of English for its own sake.

More fun stuff for National Grammar Day:
Send a National Grammar Day e-card from the official site: http://www.nationalgrammarday.com/
Editor Mark’s grammar haiku contest: http://markallenediting.com/2012/03/04/2012grammardayhaiku/
Free punctuation icons: http://www.winepressofwords.com/2012/02/punctuicons-a-free-grammar-themed-icon-set/
Free Grammar Day wallpapers:
http://www.winepressofwords.com/2012/02/a-free-collection-of-national-grammar-day-desktop-wallpapers/

Thanks are in order

Thanks to Mignon Fogarty, aka Grammar Girl, for tagging us in her Versatile Blogger post — and also for offering grammar advice in a fun, non-threatening way, and being an overall Nice Person.

Seven interesting things about me

Let’s keep this professional, shall we?

1. My favorite piece of punctuation is the semicolon.
2. My most embarrassing newspaper correction was having to write that rabbits aren’t rodents (they’re lagomorphs, and I should have known that from college biology).
3. I have literally (and I mean this literally, not figuratively) dozens of books on language, grammar, usage and words on my desk, and dozens more at home.
4. I was trained as a linguist but am employed as an editor, so there’s a constant descriptivist vs. prescriptivist tug-of-war going on in my head.
5. That said, I do  have language peeves. I can’t help it.
6. I think that learning a foreign language gives people invaluable insight into their own language as well as into another culture.
7. My favorite Grammar Rock is, of course, “Conjunction Junction.”

15 worthwhile blogs

Most blog posts I find through links on Twitter, but there are a few blogs I go to regularly because they’re worth keeping up with. Here are 15 that I hope you all will enjoy as well:

1. Headsup: The blog — A blog on editing and journalism run by Fred Vultee, a professor at Wayne State University.

2. Lingua Franca — The Chronicle of Higher Education’s blog on language has several regular authors: Lucy Ferriss, Allan Metcalf, Geoffrey K. Pullum, Carol Fisher Saller and Ben Yagoda.

3. Regret the Error — Craig Silverman, now with Poynter, tracks errors and discusses accuracy and verification.

4. You Are Not So Smart — Not a language or journalism blog, but a myth-buster backed up by scientific research. Fun and interesting.

5. You Don’t Say — A blog on language and editing, with a weekly joke, by John McIntyre of the Baltimore Sun.

6. Blogslot – Musings on language and editing by Bill Walsh of the Washington Post (also the author of “Lapsing Into a Comma”).

7. Overheard in the Newsroom — Because sometimes you need a laugh.

8. Language Corner — Merrill Perlman’s writings on words and language at Columbia Journalism Review.

9. That’s the Press, Baby — A more philosophical look at the world of journalism, and department stores, by David Sullivan in Philadelphia.

10. Johnson – The language blog of the Economist, for an across-the-pond perspective.

11. Language Log — This one gets a bit technical at times, but if you’re really into language and linguistics, it’s a must-read.

12. The Wordnik blog — Fun with vocabulary.

13. Separated by a Common Language — U.S./U.K. language differences, by Lynne Murphy.

14. Mind Your Language — The language blog of the Guardian style editors, for more across-the-pond perspective.

15. The Grammar Guide — Pam Nelson’s blog on language and editing.

The rules

Here are the rules, but, as Grammar Girl suggested, feel free to disregard them.

1. In a post on your, blog, nominate 15 fellow bloggers for The Versatile Blogger Award.

2. In the same post, add the Versatile Blogger Award.

3. In the same post, thank the blogger who nominated you in a post with a link back to their blog.

4. In the same post, share seven completely random pieces of information about yourself.

5. In the same post, include this set of rules.

6. Inform each nominated blogger of their nomination by posting a comment on each of their blogs. (Or post to Twitter.)

The “warning” “sign”

Underlining and bold face exist for emphasis. Quotation marks serve their own purpose. But that doesn’t stop people from mixing them.

Bad math

If something costs a quarter, it costs 25 cents or 25/100 of a dollar, $0.25. If you have the “¢,” you don’t need the decimal point, or vice versa, since technically, “.25 ¢” means you get four for a penny.

The simple typo

Apparently “caramel” is a tricky word, and in some universe, “mangnets” cost a hundred dollars (missing punctuation piles on to a typo)

 When spell-check won’t help

It’s not a misspelling since the other word is a real word. But it’s not the right word. (Bonus points for the person who corrected the coffee machine sign)

Please, no more apostrophe’s!

This error is rampant, getting worse, and may be unstoppable. That does not prevent it from assailing the eyes. (And it seems that “magnet” is a tricky word as well.)

What?

And this last one doesn’t even count as a grocer’s apostrophe, since it’s in a verb, for goodness’ sake. What will they come up with next? (That’s not a challenge.)

But they were right: when the pronouns are the subject of the sentence, we need to use the subject forms: I, we, you, she, he and they.

Conventions of English dictate that you don’t start a pair with “I,” but it’s not grammatically incorrect to say “I and my cousins went bungee-jumping in New Zealand.” (It does sound a bit odd, though.)

But we tend to run into problems with object constructions. We get so conditioned to say “you and I” that we want to use it everywhere, as in: “Just between you and I, his feet smell terrible.” However, “between” is a preposition, so we need to use the object forms: me, us, you, him, her and them. So “between you and me” is correct. The same goes for “Doodle’s going with Cindy and me on the snake hunt.”

Between you and me, a quick way to determine the correct word is to replace the pair of pronouns with “we” or “us.” If “we” sounds right, use the subject forms. If “us” sounds right, use the object forms.

“[Me and her] -> us are going snake-hunting in the creek” Nope. Use the subject pronouns here: She and I.

“Just between [you and I] -> we, his feet smell terrible.” Nope. Use the object pronouns here: you and me.

And watch out for snakes in the creek.

The correct usage is “graduate from” a school: “Mayim Bialik graduated from UCLA with a Ph.D. in neuroscience.”

The usage “was graduated from” — as in, “Herbert West was graduated from Miskatonic University” — is the original construction, but is now considered archaic (and a bit pretentious).

It’s also correct to use “graduate” by itself as an intransitive: “Though he studied at Harvard, Bill Gates did not graduate.”

But the form “she graduated college” is labeled in various usage guides as “poor wording” (Garner’s), “patently incorrect” (Miss Thistlebottom’s Hobgoblins), “wrong” (Woe Is I), “best avoided” (The New Fowler’s) and “Jethro-esque” (Lapsing Into a Comma). Use it at your peril.

And once a person has graduated, he is an alumnus, she is an alumna, either one is an alum, and both together are alumni — “alumni” is plural and should not be used to refer to one person. The diploma may not be in Latin anymore, but that term is.

Writers and editors have a lot to juggle in making prose presentable: big-picture items like accuracy, clarity, flow and structure, as well as details like grammar, spelling, punctuation and word choice. Details matter: one wrong word — even one wrong letter — can change the meaning of a sentence, or make it confusing. This is why editors especially need a keen eye for detail (plus a sense for smooth writing, and that little bell in your head that goes off when something seems not quite right).

One of the regular features Grammar Monkeys does on Twitter is “When spell-check won’t help”: sentences that have a wrong word that’s still a word. It’s not flagged by spell-check, but it’s a mistake that can throw the whole sentence off — or make it unintentionally funny. We find a lot of these in copy, and now people tweet them to us as well (thanks to @grammarsnark, @madbeyond, @EATutor and @bergly for some of the examples below).

These errors fall into several types:

The one-letter-off typo
One letter can make a big difference.

“The nation’s intestate highway system.” (interstate)
“The company’s head of new-produce development” (new-product)
“The heaving helping of caviar” (heaping)
“The pops concert, canon launch and fireworks show” (cannon)
“Moral was low in that office” (morale)
“A list of businesses that asses the additional charge.” (assess)

The autocorrect typo
When computers suggest corrections or automatically correct words to what they think you mean, they sometimes get it wrong. (This phenomenon has a name: the Cupertino Effect. Newspapers have had to run corrections for mistakenly calling a columnist a communist and a socialite a socialist, both of which were probably this sort of error.

“How to keep your composer when …” (composure)
“The restaurant offers traditional fare severed Japanese-style.” (served)
“The man, a decedent of Austrian immigrants” (descendant)
“He testified for the prostitution.” (prosecution)
“He has become aquatinted with relatives in Germany.” (acquainted)
“It’s like killing two brides with one stone.” (birds)

The wrong word
These can be homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled differently) or words that are just commonly confused. Apostrophe errors (they’re/there/their, you’re/your and so on) also fall into this category.

“Police taser man after he fleas.” (flees)
“We were tenement farmers in the back of their pasture.” (tenant)
“Did President Obama stop wearing his wedding wring?” (ring)
“He stopped to get a drink to cleanse his palette” (palate)
“He took the reigns as CEO in March” (reins)
“Get a sneak peak” (peek)

The one-letter-off “facto”
These may be trickiest, because when you’re looking at writing on the micro level, picking at details, you don’t always think about the big-picture stuff.

“Honoring troops killed in the wars in Iran and Afghanistan” (We may not like Iran, but we’re at war in Iraq)
“The nation hit its debt limit of $14.3 million in May.” (If only — it’s $14.3 trillion. This is why editors need to be mindful of math, too.)
“State legislatures will hold a public forum on Saturday.” (There are national meetings of state-level lawmakers, but this one was for state legislators.)

As using a calculator does not make one an accountant, using spell-check does not make one an editor. Spell-check is a useful tool, but it’s no substitute for careful, conscientious reading.

As always, any misspellings in the above post (like one already caught by @oliviafaix) are the result of Muphry’s Law.

English samples a little from all the world's languages.

The origin of this quote is uncertain, but its accuracy is not in doubt: As languages go, English takes what it needs from wherever it can.

Of the hundreds of thousands of words that make up English, the vast majority come from either Germanic or Latin sources.

Most of our short one- and two-syllable words for common objects, actions and qualities (house, hat, run, sing, green, etc.) and basic bits of grammar (the, one, and, in, etc.) are Germanic.

Most of our longer words — ones that have a root and a prefix or suffix — are Latin, or Greek. These would include such patriotic words as independence, constitution and government, and such workaday words as computer, television and refrigerator.

But English is not at all particular about where it picks up its words: The world’s languages are just one big smorgasbord (that one’s from Swedish) for our mother tongue to nibble from.

Consider these words: robot, samovar, intelligentsia, tundra and mammoth. Perfectly ordinary English words — except they come from the Slavic family of languages.

Arabic gives us admiral, alcohol, cotton, sofa, zenith and algebra (OK, some people may wish they would have kept that last one).

In addition to smorgasbord, Swedish gave us flounder and ombudsman. Cousin Norwegian donated ski, slalom and lemming.

Hungarian contributed coach (the vehicle, not the guy with the whistle around his neck), goulash and something that usually goes into that dish, paprika.

From the Far East, Chinese, via Malay, sends us ketchup, or catsup, if that’s how you want to spell it. Chow (the dog) and chow (slang for food) also come from Chinese, but from different source words. Japanese kicked in karaoke, kamikaze, rickshaw, futon, hibachi and sudoku. The languages of the Indian subcontinent donated bungalow, cashmere, khaki, shampoo, pundit and pajamas.

African languages give us words including banjo, banana, chimpanzee and marimba; Hebrew lent jubilee, behemoth, cherub and Satan, as well as Satan’s alias Beelzebub. (“Devil” we get from Greek.)

Then there are the words people just make up that find a permanent place in English. Some of these are portmanteaus, which is a fancy way of saying two words combined into one, such as “smog,” “docudrama” and “infomercial.” Others are as old as Shakespeare, who is credited with coining fashionable, madcap, monumental and lackluster, among several hundred other words and phrases we use today.

And there are funny made-up words, words like “embiggen,” first used on an episode of “The Simpsons.” What does it mean? You probably don’t even need context to figure it out, but here’s the quote: “A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man.”

Word origins from the Oxford English Dictionary and the American Heritage Dictionary.

The author, Claiborne L., a professional writer and editor, makes some excellent points in the post, and also links to a howlingly funny collection of obnoxious responses to language mistakes on Facebook. But she sums it up by saying that people knowledgeable about language should approach corrections as advice from a peer, not as diktats from on high. “Check the attitude,” she says, “and offer only the instruction.”

As an editor, I realize that I fall closer to “fussbudget” than “freewheeler.” That’s the job of an editor: to clarify, streamline — and correct.

But her post made me think, why DO people hate having their language corrected, and hate the people who do it? Aside from the fact that most people dislike being told they’re wrong about anything, there are a few other reasons that seem specific to corrections of grammar.

1. “It’s not rocket science.” Language is naturally picked up by little children with no formal instruction, unlike math, golf or other skills. Everyone uses language; not everyone uses calculus. So why is your grammar any better than mine?

2. “You know what I meant.” This one is probably the trickiest, because even with mistakes, most times the message is communicated. But in some contexts, merely being understood despite mistakes isn’t good enough. See #3:

3. Context. Errors of language in professional work, resumes, letters, homework, etc., make a big difference. In casual communication — text messages, status updates and other bits of dashed-off verbiage — they don’t, much as they may pain the eyes. Sweat the important stuff.

4. Missing the point. Sometimes people get so focused on “there needs to be a comma there” and “you mean ‘were,’ not ‘was,’ ” that they lose sight of the point the other person is trying to make. This is a pretty strong argument for using clear, correct language — so as not to distract a reader/listener. Regardless, if people think you’re not paying attention to what they’re saying, only to how they’re saying it, they tend to get a bit testy.

5. Pedants have NO sense of humor.

6. Not an error. Many “grammar cops” insist on correcting “mistakes” that aren’t mistakes. They’ll harp on split infinitives, sentence-ending prepositions and a bunch of other “rules” that have no basis in English grammar. Not that language doesn’t have rules — it does — but some of the “rules” are really guidelines, suggestions or merely shibboleths, “secret handshakes” used to identify those who know the “rules.”

7. The attitude. Smug and superior is an immediate turn-off for most people no matter the subject. Add to it the huffy, or worse, gleeful, pointing out of an error with an “everybody-knows-THAT” tone of voice, and offense is guaranteed.

As we’ve discussed before in this blog, clear and accurate use of language is a goal worth striving for. Grammar is what makes sentences work, and when it’s lacking, meaning suffers. Using language well, particularly written language, enables communication for all parties involved. So making language clear and smooth is a good thing. It’s not unlike helping your grandma do her taxes or coaching a friend on how to sink a 12-foot putt.

So, if you feel the need to share your language aptitude, how should you correct?

1. Make sure you’re really right. I look stuff up all the time while editing, even things I’m sure I know. I want to make certain I have a good reason behind a change.

2. Make sure it matters. As funny as the snarky Facebook responses are, is a correction really worth alienating a friend over? But if it’s an error on something important, fix away.

3. Be polite. Don’t be a know-it-all (even if you know it all). Ask if advice is welcome. Offer it with a smile, and maybe a little joke. You can start off gently, assuming that of course the person already knows the correct way but must have overlooked it in haste, as we all do from time to time. Or you can start off admitting a mistake of your own: “I must have looked up ‘lie’ and ‘lay’ a thousand times before I finally remembered it.”

4. Get feedback. Ask the person’s opinion of your fix: “Please tell me if you don’t see it this way, and why.” You can learn a lot about that person, and yourself, as a result.

The exception: If someone in an online forum is criticizing a previous poster’s grammar or spelling, feel free to point out — gleefully, if you wish — that person’s own misspellings (particularly “grammer”), punctuation mistakes and incorrect word choices.

And, above all, beware of Muphry’s Law — it sneaks up on the best of us.

Apples are crunchier than oranges.

These forms are called comparatives: adjectives that, as the name implies, indicate a comparison between two entities, times, states of being, etc.

Maria is the younger of the twins.
Scott is happier now that he learned to rumba.
Is the sky over Kansas really bluer?

In English, comparatives are formed in one of two ways:
1. Adding “-er” to the adjective: older, faster, greener, smarter
2. Putting “more” in front of the adjective: more ancient, more rapid, more verdant, more intelligent

There’s not a hard and fast rule — this is English we’re talking about — governing when to use “-er” and when to use “more.” But typically, shorter adjectives take “-er” and longer ones take “more” — “funner” being one of the exceptions to that guideline. “More” is acceptable with any adjective, but it usually sounds odd when used with one that can take “-er.” Some comparatives sound fine either way, like “stupider” and “more stupid.”

Don’t use both “-er” and “more,” though — “more yummier” is fine if a 5-year-old says it, but adults should know better.

Adverbs can have comparatives, too, but most of the time they’re formed with “more” (i.e., people read more quickly than they talk).

On to superlatives: When you’re talking about more than two things, you need superlatives, which are the “-est” and “most” forms. The same guideline for comparatives applies: shorter adjectives form a superlative with “-est” and longer ones with “most.”

Ophelia is the oldest of the triplets.
That is the most frustrating package to open.
The sky today is the bluest I’ve ever seen it.

Do you feel smarter?