I’ve been writing lately about words and sayings that people get wrong, sometimes arguing that “wrong” is perhaps not the best word to describe those lapses. I’m more descriptivist than a prescriptivist and no fan of those who haughtily “correct” other people’s English.
That said, the judgemental little shite that lives in my head still jumps up and down whenever it sees someone else make a mistake (when I make a mistake, it’s full of compassion and understanding, of course). So today, I’m letting that little bastard out for a few minutes to correct a few of the more common mistakes it sees. He’ll be back in his box next week, promise.
Baited breath: This should be bated breath, from the 14th century verb meaning “to reduce or cease”. A handy mnemonic is to note that it’s a shortening of the more familiar abate.
Unphased: As in not concerned or alarmed. The correct word, unfazed, comes from the Kentish feeze. For anyone but a writer, this mistake is surely forgivable. No amount of logical thinking would tell you that faze is the correct spelling when “frighten, discomfort or alarm” is intended. The word’s a brotherless and sisterless orphan, with no related words to suggest its existence.
Comprise: Real estate agents remain in two minds or more about the correct usage of this tricky word. Should they write a home “comprises of four bedrooms”, “is comprised of four bedrooms”, or something else? Comprise means “made up of”, which makes the “of” redundant. A fussy real estate agent will write “the house comprises four bedrooms”. However, and this is a big however, people have been writing “comprises of” for centuries, so to rail against its use is futile.
Aggravate: Commonly used to mean “annoy”. Its original and still prevailing sense (if only just) is “worsen” - as in a sports player aggravating an existing injury. Not a misuse to get het up about when someone else does it (they’re probably riding an irresistible wave of change), but one to avoid if you’re a careful writer in 2023.
Refute: Often used to deny something, as in “I refute that accusation”. To refute is to disprove with convincing evidence, so simply denying something is not to refute it. Ask any scientist.
Tact: Tacking and gybing is what sailing boats do to catch the wind. Tact is what you employ when your partner wakes up with bed hair and you hold your tongue.
There/Their/They’re: There refers to location. Their refers to something that belongs to them. They’re is short for they are. People who confuse this threesome are often typing in too much of a hurry, not naming names. Get any of them wrong and your reader will judge you harshly. Their, I said it.
Its/it’s: Its is possessive; it’s is an abbreviation of it is. Another place to take care if these things matter to you, and to relax if others don’t fall in line. There was a time when it’s possessive was the norm, so this is not a hill worth dying on.
Dependent: If the noun is intended, as in “someone you take care of”, the spelling is dependant.
Discreet/Discrete: Someone who is discreet won’t spread information that you tell them in confidence. Discrete means separate and distinct from others. I have got this wrong more often than I care to admit, which is what can happen when you think dictionaries are for other people.
Disinterested: This means having no vested interest in something. If someone finds something boring, the correct word for them is uninterested. Unless what they find boring is The Godfather I and II, in which case the correct word for them is mistaken.
Flout: Sometimes used when flaunt is intended. You might flaunt your new haircut, for example (and let it be said that some haircuts are best left unflaunted). If you do something illegal, you may be flouting the law.
Hone: To hone is to sharpen. If you are closing in or focussing on something, you are homing in (not honing in) on it.
Infer: To infer is to deduce or draw a meaning from something. For example, if your partner draws attention to your bed hair first thing in the morning, you may infer they have no interest in sex for the next two weeks. If you mean to suggest something, you are implying it.
Lead: This can mean two things, and the past tense of the verb lead is not one of them. That’s spelt led. Another case of English being a fickle language; why is the past tense of read spelt read but pronounced RED? Why is bread pronounced BRED? In the immortal words of Marcus Greil, what is this shit?
Pour: You can pour milk over a document, but if you’re studying the document closely you’re poring over it. No ‘u’ required.
Play: Sports commentators are wont to say something is playing on a competitor’s mind (for example, the easy smash a tennis player just missed). Back when I was still capable of swinging a tennis racket without tearing anything, the word was prey. I wouldn’t call play wrong - at the very least, it’s coherent - but it seems a shame to lose the power of prey in this context.
Bits and specious
Further to last week’s newsletter featuring Waltzing Matilda, I’m informed there’s an alternative version of that song. My skimpy research suggests that in fact there are multiple versions, but here’s the one that seems to catch the bogan Aussie spirit best. Thanks to Rachel ah Kit for the lead.
My non-Antipodean readers may be wondering what a bogan is. The dictionary definition is “an uncouth or unsophisticated person”, but that doesn’t really capture it. If you’re English, chav comes close, though bogan doesn’t carry quite the same class-riven edge. Redneck is the nearest US equivalent I can think of, but while rednecks can be any age, bogans tend to be younger men.
Richard Dawkins is on Substack. This is a good thing. Ask any scientist.
Quote of the week
The one phrase it is imperative to know in every foreign language is, ‘My friend will pay.’
Alan Whicker
You’d be proud of me, Ken, as I read “Fucking Apostrophes” (can’t recall the name of the author) in one single sitting. Okay, admittedly it is a small book, but it was an excellent choice of Christmas present last year.