Why Learn Grammar?

English Grammar

Why Learn Grammar?

‘As to knowledge concerned with books, there is a step to be taken before you can fairly enter upon any path. In the immense field of this kind of knowledge, innumerable are the paths, and GRAMMAR is the gate of entrance to them all.’
WILLIAM COBBETT, A Grammar of the English Language

The Middle English form of the word ‘grammar’ is ‘gramarye’ which, in addition to the familiar meaning, signifies ‘magic’ or ‘occult learning’. There is without doubt something magical about grammar, which is a language’s established rules for changing the forms of words and arranging them into units that make sense. It is all very well having a large vocabulary, but if you don’t know the magic formulae for assembling words, mere gibberish will be the result! Churchill knew these formulae well, which is why it was said of his wartime oratory that he had mobilized the English language and sent it into battle.

Grammar is both an art and a science, and there has always been a debate about whether it should be prescriptive or descriptive. In other words, should usage trump established grammatical principles? Should language be allowed to evolve indefinitely, upon any path to which error leads it, or should certain rules prevail over time, rules that inter alia provide a link to the literary treasures of the past? In England there is no equivalent of the Académie Francaise to regulate and provide an official standard for the language; as with politics, our language is subject to an unwritten constitution.

Today, trendy teachers scorn any form of prescription, and a child’s grammar, we are told, is not to be corrected lest such correction iron out or interfere with its creativity. But a child is not original or innovative by dint of its grammatical errors. You cannot break the rules in a creative fashion until you know them—and know them backwards. One should also be careful to distinguish between spoken and written English and not allow the former to dictate to the latter. If spoken English, being the child of the street, is more dynamic, room must nevertheless be made for its more contemplative brother, whose breeding ground is the quiet of the study.

Whichever side of the debate one happens to be on, the accurate and clear use of language, whether written or spoken, is an inestimable advantage in life, opening the door to a richer and more cultured life, one in which confusion of thought is less likely to prevail. Those who know and study English grammar can see the liberating effects of having a relatively fixed morphological and syntactical system. The proof is in the literature, which in England’s case is without peer.

Today, alas, our language is not only becoming less accurate, it is losing meaning altogether. The media are the principal culprit, their language having become increasingly abstract and removed from reality—good for nothing perhaps, other than brainwashing. Even those who should speak with authority on matters of grammar and language have been woefully corrupted by the pseudo-scientific jargon that prevails in public discourse. For instance, The Cambridge Grammar of the English Language (Cambridge University Press, 2002) drives a coach and four through basic standards of grammar and aesthetics by presenting us with this pair of sentences—a) ‘Kim and I saw the accident’ and b) ‘Kim and me saw the accident’—and then commenting, ‘There is no difference in grammaticality’ between the two. Grammaticality!!?? Ladies and Gentlemen, let me tell you once and for all, there is no such word as ‘grammaticality’. After all, we have a perfectly good noun that goes by the name of ‘grammar’. Secondly, there is a world of grammatical difference between the two sentences. When the first person pronoun is the subject of a sentence, it must be in the nominative (or subjective) case. Therefore, ‘Kim and I’, as the subject of the sentence, is correct. ‘Kim and me’ is incorrect, for ‘me’ is in the accusative (or objective) case, which can never be used for the subject in English.

This howler from Cambridge University’s official grammar serves to illustrate a curious point, which is that today in English we suffer from alityitis. In other words, we have a passion for creating false nouns from true nouns ending in –ion by taking the adjectives derived from them and adding –ity. For example:

convention → coventional → coventionality

function → functional → functionality

The ‘words’ coventionality and functionality are abstractions that are meaningless. Indeed, anyone with a modicum of English grammar should know that they are not words at all and should feel a tingle of shame at letting them pass his lips! The adjective ending in -al is created from a bona fide noun; you can’t then go and create another superfluous and aesthetically offensive noun from the the legitimately derived adjective. If, on the other hand, you have an adjective ending in –al (such as ‘general’ or ‘banal’) that is not derived from a noun, then it is legitimate to create a noun from the adjective by the addition of –ity (e.g. ‘generality’, ‘banality’). As George Orwell might have said, conventionality and functionality are non-speak words. Their effect is to remove mankind still further from Nature and its processes, so that men and women can be more easily manipulated by brainwashers and their brainwashing machines.

Avoiding nonsense is one thing, steering clear of ambiguity is another. Here, even the humble punctuation mark can make the world of difference. Let’s suppose you are writing to a potential employer and want him to know that your girlfriend is a technical whizz (who could be of use to his company). Here’s what you write:

‘My girlfriend who lives in Scunthorpe is a computer genius.’

In so writing, you have inadvertently given the impression that you have several girlfriends scattered around the country, and that the one who lives in Scunthorpe happens to be a computer genius. What you should have written is:

‘My girlfriend, who lives in Scunthorpe, is a computer genius.’

Now you have only one girlfriend and you know the difference between restrictive and non-restrictive relative clauses. The first sentence is an example of a restrictive relative clause and could have got you into all sorts of hot water!

In the last analysis language should be an instrument of truth and not, as it is fast becoming, an instrument of deceit. Grammar can help us maintain a distinction between the two.

Grammar is closely allied to the other two disciplines, logic and rhetoric, which together make up the medieval ‘trivium’. Yet, of the three, grammar is primary. The art of thinking and the art of persuading are both based on the foundation of grammar—the art of using and arranging words correctly in order to make meaningful statements and ask meaningful questions. And on these twin pillars rest our continuing potential for true freedom.

That’s how important grammar is.