For the past 20 years, more or less, this columnist has welcomed the New Year with the abbreviated tale of a schoolyard scuffle. It is to this effect:

Only John hit Peter in the nose. John only hit Peter in the nose. John hit Peter only in the nose.

The moral of the story will be clear to every reader: Misplacing one’s “only” is a crime against syntax. Proper placement of “only” is a virtue to be constantly applauded. The trick is to snuggle the defining adverb close to the word it modifies. No little dog’s trick of the writing art is easier to master, and no rule of prose composition is more widely abused.

Even The New York Times errs. Last July the Times’ man in the Senate reported a squabble over the nomination of a western Republican for a seat on the Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit. Said reporter Neil A. Lewis, “The Republicans, who needed 60 votes to defeat the threatened filibuster, were only able to muster 53.”

Notice what happens when the “only” is moved three words to the right. The sun breaks through! The sentence snaps! Behold! The Republicans “were able to muster only 53.”

I don’t mean to pick only on the Times. Last August The New Republic carried a piece by Andrei Cherny on the presidential campaign. Mr. Cherny had spent 14 months as a speechwriter for John Kerry. He thought the candidate should argue that “gay marriage” is not a serious threat to American family values. “Whatever one’s opinion about gay marriage, it only affects a relatively tiny number of couples.”

The writer didn’t mean that gay marriage “only affects” a few couples. He meant that it “affects only.”

Robert Half Legal, a headhunting firm, promoted its salary guide in a full-page ad in the National Law Journal: You Only Need One Resource. Only need? Or need only?

In Palm Beach, Fla., Coleman A. Goldberg went to the theater and picked up a Playbill. There was an ad from Northern Trust Bank, pointlessly reminding playgoers that although stock exchanges are open for six or seven hours worldwide, “This show only runs for two hours.” Reader Goldberg would amend the reminder to say that the show runs “for only two hours,” which may have been one hour too long.

Back in August, USA Today reported that Justine Henin-Hardenne of Belgium, the world’s No. 1-ranked women’s tennis player, had been weakened for months by a stubborn infection. “She has only played in the French Open.” If we shift the “only” to the prepositional phrase it modifies, we get a sharper image: She had played only in the French Open.

Condoleezza Rice, the incoming secretary of state, is manifestly an intellectual of considerable academic skills, but even Lady Homers nod. She told the Sept. 11 Commission that “bold and comprehensive changes are sometimes only capable in the wake of catastrophic events.” No, ma’am. Let us nudge that “only” just a tad. “Comprehensive changes are capable only in the wake …”

Three years ago, Jackie Hawkins of Merlon, Ore., sent me a photo she had taken of a walkway on the University of Arizona campus in Tucson. Embedded in concrete was an advisory disclaimer: “This exhibit only works when the sun is shining.” Question: If the exhibit only works on sunshiny days, may we ask what it does on rainy days?

J.R. Muhm of Englewood, Colo., asks for a verdict on a sentence from a federal regulation: “A state may only use funds provided under a payment made under this section for types of expenditures permitted under the most recently approved budget for the state.” Moving the “only” won’t save that sentence. Take it out back and shoot it!

James Kilpatrick is a syndicated columnist.

Copy the Story Link