former / latter
Some people insist that you should use the phrases the former and the
latter only to refer to the first of two things and the second of two things,
respectively: “But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, and the
former was a lulu and the latter was a fake” (Ernest Lawrence Thayer). It is
easy to find violations of this rule in the works of good writers, but since
former and latter are comparatives, many readers feel uneasy when the
words are used in enumerations of more than two things, just as they would
feel uneasy over the similar incorrect use of a comparative in a sentence
such as Her boys are 7, 9, and 13; only the younger was born in California
fortuitous / fortunate
The word fortuitous is unfortunate since people argue about what it can and
cannot mean. In its oldest sense, fortuitous means “happening by accident
or chance.” Thus a fortuitous meeting may have either fortunate or
unfortunate consequences. Many people insist that this is all fortuitous can
mean. But people for decades have used the word in reference to happy
accidents, as in The company’s third-quarter profits were enhanced as the
result of a fortuitous drop in the cost of RAM chips. This use may have
arisen because fortuitous resembles both fortunate and felicitous.
Whatever its origin, the use is well established in the writing of reputable
authors. The additional use of fortuitous to mean “lucky or fortunate” is
more controversial, as in He came to the Giants in June as the result of a
fortuitous trade that sent two players to the Reds. This use dates back at
least to the 1920s, but people still widely regard it as incorrect, and you
may want to avoid it
founder / flounder
People often confuse the verbs founder and flounder. Founder comes from
a Latin word meaning “bottom” (as in foundation) and originally referred to
knocking enemies down; people now use it also to mean “to fail utterly,
collapse”: The business started well but foundered. Flounder means “to
move clumsily, thrash about” and hence “to proceed in confusion.” Thus if
John is foundering in Chemistry 1, he had better drop the course; if he is
floundering, he may yet pull through.
fulsome
Fulsome is often used to mean “offensively flattering or insincere.” But
people also use the word, particularly in the expression fulsome praise, to
mean simply “abundant,” without any implication of excess or insincerity.
This usage is all right, but it may invite misunderstandings in contexts in
which someone could infer a deprecatory interpretation. You may
unintentionally offend someone by saying I offer you my most fulsome
apologies, where the use of an adjective like full or abundant would leave
no doubt about the sincerity of your intentions
go
Parents reading picture books aloud to their infant children have always
used go to produce nonlinguistic noises, as in The train went “toot” and The
cow goes “moo.” Now their grown-up infants use go to report speech, as in
Then he goes, “You think you’re real smart, don’t you?” For speakers
young enough to get away with it, this usage is useful when telling a story
that has direct quotations, particularly when the user wishes to mimic the
accent or intonation of the original speaker. You should restrict this sense
of go, however, to the “narrative present” used in informal speech and omit
it from more formal contexts
good / well
People use good as an adverb all the time when speaking, as in My car
was just tuned and runs real good now or Burning the sauce stunk the
kitchen up good. In writing, it is perfectly acceptable to use the adjective
good with linking verbs such as be, seem, or appear: Plans for the reunion
are looking good. The soup tastes good. But the use of good as an adverb
with other verbs is not common in writing and will in all likelihood be
frowned on by your readers. Use well instead. Thus you should say The
dress fits well and looks good
Be careful when using good and well after the verb feel. While both of
these adjectives can mean “healthy,” your readers will probably interpret
She feels good to mean “She is in good spirits.” If they see She feels well,
they may assume the reference is to her state of health, not to her mood.
got / gotten
“There is no such word as gotten,” an irritated reader recently wrote to The
Boston Globe Magazine, objecting to the use of the word by a usage
commentator, who should have known better. The notion that gotten is
illegitimate has been around for over 200 years and refuses to die. The
word itself is much older than the criticism against it. As past participles of
get, both got and gotten go back to the Middle Ages. In American English,
have got is chiefly an intensive form of have in its senses of possession
and obligation and can only be used in the present tense. Gotten sees
regular use as a variant past participle of get. It can occur in a variety of
past and perfect tenses: Had she gotten the car when you saw her? I would
not have gotten sick if I had stayed home. In Britain, gotten has mostly
fallen out of use
graduate
The verb graduate has denoted the action of conferring an academic
degree or diploma since at least 1421. Accordingly, the action of receiving
a degree should be expressed in the passive, as in She was graduated
from Yale in 1980. This use is still current if slightly old-fashioned, and 78
percent of the Usage Panel accepts it. In general usage, however, the old
sense has largely yielded to the much more recent sense “to receive a
degree” (first attested in 1807): She graduated from Yale in 1980. Eighty-
nine percent of the Usage Panel accepts this use. It is handy because it
ascribes the accomplishment to the student rather than to the institution,
which is appropriate in discussions of individual students. When the
institution’s responsibility is emphasized, however, you can still use the
older sense. A sentence such as The university graduated more computer
science majors in 1987 than in the entire previous decade stresses the
university’s accomplishment, say, of its computer science program. On the
other hand, the sentence More computer science majors graduated in 1987
than in the entire previous decade implies that the class of 1987 was in
some way a remarkable group.
grow
Eventually you have to satisfy the customer and grow the business,” the
new chairman of Eastman Kodak said in 1993 at a news conference
announcing his appointment. He was using the verb grow in a relatively
new way—with an object that is not living. Grow has been used since
medieval times as an intransitive verb meaning “to increase in size,
quantity or degree,” as in Our business has been growing steadily for three
years. It has been used with an object since the 18th century, meaning “to
produce or cultivate,” as in We grow beans and corn in our garden. But the
transitive use applied to business and nonliving things is quite new. It came
into full bloom during the 1992 Presidential election, when nearly all the
candidates were concerned with “growing the economy.” Businessleaders
and politicians may be fond of this usage, but should the rest of us? The
Usage Panel thinks not. Eighty percent reject the phrase grow our
business. The panel is more accepting of (but still not enthusiastic about)
the phrase grow our way, perhaps because of way’s established use in
expressions like make our way and find our way. Forty-eight percent of the
panel accepted We’ve got to grow our way out of this recession. The panel
had no affection for the odd but sometimes heard phrase grow down.
Ninety-eight percent gave the thumbs down to If elected, I shall do my
utmost to grow down the deficit
hang
You should use hanged as the past tense and past participle of hang in the
sense of “to put to death by hanging,” as in Frontier courts hanged many a
prisoner after a summary trial. A majority of the Usage Panel objects to
hung used in this sense. In all other senses of the word, hung is the
preferred form as past tense and past participle, as in I hung my children’s
picture above my desk.