Introduction

Prescription vs. description

The concept of errors in English usage is a fuzzy one. Language experts like to distinguish between two opposed approaches to the subject: theoretically prescriptionists work from rigid rules and traditions and seek to impose their views of correctness on the writing and speaking public, while descriptionists simply note the prevailing patterns of writers and speakers and report their results without in any way judging them.

But in fact it is not so easy to distinguish between these two approaches to usage: all prescriptionists rely heavily on usage patterns to develop their prescriptions and are willing to make exceptions to general “rules”; and even the most laissez-faire descriptionist will admit that “hte” is a typographical error for “the,” that “Heineken remover” is based on a mishearing of “Heimlich maneuver,” and that “perverbial” is not just a variant spelling of “proverbial”—it’s a mistake.

Reserving judgment

Many teachers of composition feel that covering a paper with red ink just discourages and paralyzes students (in fact, I’ve found a standard pencil arouses much less anxiety than a red pen). The dominant philosophy of teaching students to write argues that only abundant practice can lead to improved writing. Errors naturally diminish as students read and write more.

This is very true. No list of errors—no matter how diligently memorized—can make you into a fine writer. Nothing beats lots of reading and writing. But the sad truth is that few students read or write much these days, and most of it is done in the anarchic setting of e-mail and chat rooms, where “correctness” is scorned. It is not uncommon for students to make it all the way through school without having their writing thoroughly scrutinized and critiqued until they encounter disaster in the form of a picky professor, editor, or boss. Many businesses consider standard English usage a prime requirement for employment in responsible positions. Would-be schoolteachers are particularly harshly judged if their English is sub-par.

Linguistic discrimination

Much of the tension surrounding debates about usage has to do with concern for various groups—minorities and immigrants in particular—who often suffer discrimination as a result of their deviations from dominant language patterns. Prescriptionism is viewed by many language experts as the equivalent of imperialist tyranny, or to use the jargon of the moment, linguistic hegemony.

It’s true that the dominant patterns in English can exclude some very lively and creative language, and that a good deal of wonderful poetry, fiction, and drama has been written in nonstandard dialects. But in almost every case writers who are able to effectively wield the dialect they grew up speaking have also mastered standard English. To take only one of many examples, Langston Hughes brilliantly played the lively Harlem dialect of his character Jesse B. Semple against his own persona’s rather formal diction in a long series of classic columns for the Chicago Defender.

If you have no access to standard English, a dialect can trap you. If you apply for an executive position by saying “I heared t’other day you done got some jobs open,” chances are good you’ll be directed to try farther down the corporate hierarchy. It may be deplorable, but the fact is that our language is judged all the time by employers, friends, and potential dates. When some teachers evade the issue by declaring all dialects equal, they set their students up for bitter disappointment in the world outside school. By all means celebrate the variety of Englishes abounding in the world today—but everyone deserves to know what sorts of usage variations may cause them trouble.

Errors, confusions, and non-errors

Errors in usage are a lot like errors in table manners. There are tiny deviations from standard practice few people will notice or care about, like using your salad fork to eat a steak, or using “decimate” to mean “destroy.” Saying “I got my dandruff up” rather than “my dander” is more like trying to stab chunks of sweet-and-sour pork with the sharpened end of a chopstick—likely to raise eyebrows. But it’s the equivalent of falling face-first into the mashed potatoes when some poor soul refers to a man as “circusized.”

An English usage guide is like that really close friend who dares to tell you that there’s some spinach stuck between your teeth.

And then there are people who insist you should never drink white wine with red meat; they’re like those who heap contempt on split infinitives. Humor them if you must, but most of us feel they’re dead wrong. Many linguistic bugaboos of this sort are included in this book so you can be reassured that not all the people who condemn your usage know what they’re talking about.

Standard and nonstandard English

Entries are not simply divided into “correct” and “erroneous.” The label “standard English” is frequently applied to patterns that sophisticated writers and speakers tend to use. This definition is to some extent circular: we consider them sophisticated partly because they use that kind of English. But standard English is what counts; it’s what your own usage may be compared with. It’s up to you to decide whether, after learning the dominant pattern, you want to blend in or use a different wording that appeals to you more. I had to rack my brains for a long time to understand the distinction some people make between “which” and “that,” but I finally decided that I didn’t give a fig about what they thought and generally ignore the distinction in my own writing. Guidelines for usage don’t have to be regarded as iron chains dragging you down. You can still choose your own style.

When a usage is labeled as belonging to a dialect, it may be regional, racial, or national. Rather than stigmatize any particular group, I don’t try to label these dialectical variations beyond indicating that they differ from standard usage. If you’re “down to home,” by all means greet your brother-in-law with “Look what the cat drug in!” But in writing your college admissions essay you’d be wiser to use “dragged” as in, “Although I love opera now, I was dragged to my first one protesting loudly.”

By no means the majority of the usages discussed in this book are dialectical, however. It also covers technical and business jargon, pretentious but mistaken coinages created by highly educated speakers, and usages that are common but offensive to certain communities.

A special problem is the differences between standard American usage and standard United Kingdom usage, which is also largely followed in Canada, Australia, and some other countries. This particular usage guide is aimed primarily at Americans, but often notes when patterns are different elsewhere.

Who says?

Because of current trends in English studies, the folks you find patrolling the usage beat are not likely to be trained linguists these days; and I’m no exception. I have a Ph.D. in comparative literature, not in English composition. But I love good writing and encourage it in my students. I first got the idea of writing about usage while studying the mangled language on restaurant menus, and you’ll find several examples of that sort of thing in this book.

Common Errors in English Usage does not merely enshrine my personal preferences, however. I’ve consulted dictionaries and other usage manuals and consulted with colleagues more expert than myself. Web search engines have been a very handy tool for confirming the extent to which many errors have spread. Unlike the editors of some distinguished usage guides, I don’t have a formal board of consultants; but I do have something that functions rather like one. This project began in 1997 as a Web site called “Common Errors in English," and since then it’s earned many positive reviews, received numerous awards, and attracted well over a million visitors, thousands of whom have written to me with thanks or suggestions.

The Web site contains a list of “More Errors,” many of which are too bizarre to be included here, but too entertaining to be omitted there. The Web site is also where you’ll find an e-mail link if you want to write me.

If you think having a teacher criticize your writing is hard to bear, imagine being open to constant carping by the pickiest people in existence. Though I don’t always agree with my correspondents, I’ve learned a lot from them. They’ve tipped me off to common errors that have escaped the notice of other usage guide authors and sometimes argued me out of my own prejudices against usages that turned out to be more standard than I had thought.

This book is thus the result of an ongoing conversation among people from all over the world and all walks of life who care about the language, and I owe those contributors a profound debt. Although “Common Errors in English” is not particularly aimed at non-native speakers, many correspondents struggling to learn English have found its explanations of the differences between seemingly similar words and phrases helpful.

You may find certain words or phrases criticized here listed in dictionaries. Note carefully labels like dial. (dialectical), nonstandard, and obsolete before assuming that the dictionary is endorsing them. The primary job of a dictionary is to track how people actually use language. Dictionaries differ among themselves on how much guidance to usage they provide; but the goal of a usage guide like this is substantially different: to protect you against patterns regarded as nonstandard by substantial numbers of well-educated people.

What’s different about this usage guide?

Common Errors in English Usage is unusual in a number of other ways besides having originated on the World Wide Web.

Because it concentrates on the most common errors, it’s much shorter—and not incidentally, cheaper—than most, though I include some oddities that I consider especially interesting or which are simply pet peeves of mine.

This guide makes no pretense to exhaustively exploring complex topics, limiting itself to pointing out the most commonly encountered problems and giving hints for avoiding them, using a minimum of technical terminology. This is the equivalent of a first-aid manual, not of the Physician’s Desk Reference.

It avoids discussing most common misspellings, leaving the correction of such slips to your spelling checker, concentrating instead on linguistic confusions your computer won’t catch.

It discusses many casual, slangy forms that are beneath the notice of some of the more high-toned usage guides.

It incorporates up-to-date comments on words and phrases from the world of the Internet and from other technologies.
It provides illustrative examples written in the sort of English familiar to most people likely to use this book. When writing a book about common errors, it would be pointless to select learned examples a general audience would not relate to.

It also places the primary discussion of words and phrases alphabetically under their erroneous forms, so you don’t need to know the correct forms to look them up. A cross-reference is given at the expected location to guide you if you do know the correct form.

It’s written in a chatty, informal tone designed to take the edge off what could otherwise be an unpleasant barrage of criticism. It makes abundant use of the first- and second-person voice to create the effect of an informal chat rather than a pompous lecture.

And from time to time, it tries to entertain. People often write to tell me that they laugh as well as groan as they make their way through what I’ve written. I hope you find this book fun to read as well as informative.