If you hang around long enough with people who were alive in the 70s, eventually someone will quote Pogo’s most famous line: “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” The title opossum from Walt Kelly’s syndicated cartoon strip had been spouting his swamp wisdom since the late 40s, and his folksy catch-phrase has since become a mantra for anyone who feels that human beings can often be our own worst nightmare. Naturally, the botched pronoun adds to the expression’s charm.
It is not often in these columns that I pull rank on all of you. But once in a while I have to polish my “Guardian of the Language” badge, patrol the hallways with my red pen and round up a handful of grammatical scofflaws for questioning. Those of you who know your tenses and punctuation and whatnot have nothing to fear. The rest of you should be quaking in your misconjugated boots.
I could issue citations around here for quite a few writing misdemeanors. Some of you have an aversion to commas that borders on paranoia, as if you fear that men with commas on their armbands will come in the middle of the night and steal your kittens. Others wouldn’t hyphenate a compound adjective even if it were the only thing standing between you and a pair of free Alison Krauss tickets. Still others make infinitives split like a hot knife on a day-old banana. Shame is hardly the word for how you should feel.
But I’m not going to bust you for those crimes today. Like the police on Highway 64 who have but one mission — to give speeding tickets to all 7,155 students enrolled at this university (and to at least one faculty member and his lead-footed mustache) — I have but one grammatical ax to grind this day. I have met the enemy, and it is “they.”
It should be so simple.
BILLY: “I saw Fred and Susan in the hallway.”
MARIA: “Are they coming to biology class?”
Since Fred and Susan are more than one person, it is only polite to refer to them with the correct plural pronoun. “They” is a lovely word that reminds us how great it is to have multiple friends. Which makes its abuse all the more tragic. Witness and weep:
BILLY: “I heard that a new student just moved here.”
MARIA: “If you have their phone number, I’ll call them and see if they want to come to the party.”
Bless her heart. Maria means well. You cannot fault her sense of camaraderie. Wanting to include new people is such a noble quality that one feels like a boorish fusspot for pointing out the breakdown in Maria’s grammar. But, alas, a breakdown it is. You see, in all her hospitable enthusiasm, Maria has forgotten how to count.
If I can pause a moment from channeling Lynne Truss, that British queen of grammetiquette, let me point out that I am perfectly willing to throw in the towel on this when it comes to personal conversation. Since everyone and his mother seem determined to use “they” to refer to any generic person — no matter how singular he or she may be — I have stopped getting irritated in public. But to quote my high school English teacher, when it comes to your writing, “I will reign supreme.”
So let’s get this straight. No single person can ever be “they.” No matter how large his ego is. No matter how many multiple personalities she may have. No matter if that person reminds you of both your uncle Joey AND your cousin Fergus. When you use the pronoun “they,” there simply must be a plural noun within walking distance in the sentence. Hence the problem with, “Each person is allowed to eat all they can fit on their plate.” I realize that many writers can’t stand that clunky substitute “he or she” when the person’s gender is unclear — like cousin Fergus — and I agree that “all he or she can fit on his or her plate” is tantamount to assault and battery on the poor reader. But there is an easy solution: “Diners are allowed to eat all they can fit on their plates.” Simple, elegant and awfully generous of the manager at that buffet.
Since you have all been officially deputized, if you see someone misusing any form of “they,” please report them. But don’t worry. It’ll just be between you and I.
