To Split or Not to Split, That Is the Question
Fans of Star Trek will instantly recognise Captain James T. Kirk’s introduction to each episode:
Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before!
What may be less familiar to them is how the presence of a split infinitive in the final sentence became a serious bone of contention amongst writers, grammar experts and teachers.
I grew up watching Star Trek and have fond memories of my Dad telling me firmly never to follow Captain Kirk’s example.
Anathema to the Victorians, many people will still tell you that it’s profoundly wrong to split an infinitive. And will get seriously hot under the collar in the process.
Let’s talk about words
But what exactly is a split infinitive? The infinitive is the root form of a verb. Think ‘to walk’, ‘to drink’ or ‘to speak’. A split infinitive occurs when an adverb or other words are placed between the two parts of an infinitive (ie between ‘to’ and the verb). Consider to fully understand the brief. To patiently wait your turn. Or to boldly go….
The most famous example is the one from Star Trek. But you see them all the time. And the thing is, it’s not necessarily wrong to use them.
Step back a century or two and writers as diverse as Daniel Defoe, George Eliot, Bram Stoker and Henry James have used split infinitives. While recent research suggests that they are even more common in British speech today than they were a few decades ago.
This, of course, is what happens to language as it changes and adapts to the needs of users over time. Meaning evolves. Grammar evolves. Syntax evolves.
To boldly split where no one has split before
The old joke relates that it is the duty of every writer to never split an infinitive. But why did this usage even become an issue in the first place?
One story has it that 17th-century grammarians argued that English should follow the rules of Latin, where an infinitive such as ‘to read’ is a single word. But this is a false analogy.
Latin has no equivalent of ‘to’ (to read is the one-word ‘legere’). So it cannot logically be deployed to support an argument against splitting an infinitive. And as travel writer Bill Bryson said, “Making English grammar conform to Latin rules is like asking people to play baseball using the rules of football.”
Others point to the many 19th-century commentators who considered it a deliberate affectation, an abuse of grammar or a simple error. Despite other grammarians coming out in defence of the form around that time.
These days, most style guides are fairly relaxed about the use of split infinitives. They recognise that, under the right circumstances, they can look more natural, offer a clearer means of expression and improve readability.
Compare ‘to patiently wait for a friend’ with ‘patiently to wait for a friend’. Or ‘to better understand the data’ with ‘to understand better the data’. Or even ‘to really enjoy a particular wine’ with ‘really to enjoy a particular wine’.
What are we to do?
These days, most people are unfazed by the sight of a split infinitive. And may not even realise it’s considered by some to be a solecism.
For advice, we might usefully turn to Fowler’s renowned Dictionary of Modern English Usage (first published in 1926). Fowler disliked pedantry and artificial grammar rules which undermined natural usage. He famously noted that:
The English-speaking world may be divided into (1) those who neither know nor care what a split infinitive is; (2) those who do not know, but care very much; (3) those who know and condemn; (4) those who know and approve; and (5) those who know and distinguish. ... Those who neither know nor care are the vast majority, and are a happy folk, to be envied by the minority classes.
So how should we approach the subject? Trying to avoid split infinitives often leads to stiff or awkward constructions that run counter to the rhythm and logic of English phrasing. It can lend itself to ambiguity and change the meaning of a sentence. It can also make you look old-fashioned.
Follow Fowler’s rule. Split an infinitive if you want to stress the adverb, if it improves clarity and if it feels right. But remember, context does matter. If it’s a formal piece of writing and your audience is likely to become irritated on seeing a split infinitive, then consider an alternative form of wording which gets round the problem.
I think we can let Raymond Chandler, founder of the hard-boiled school of detective fiction, have the last word. Complaining to the editor of The Atlantic about a proof-reader who deleted his split infinitives, he wrote:
By the way, would you convey my compliments to the purist who reads your proofs and tell him or her that I write in a sort of broken-down patois which is something like the way a Swiss-waiter talks, and that when I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will remain split.