Is That That ‘That’ That That Cat Dragged In?

By Ellen Jovin

Investigate any number of grammar arguments going on this very second around the Upper West Side and you may find the word “that” at the heart of them. Where “that” goes, furor often follows.

People argue over whether a “that” should be a “who.” Or whether it can be a “which.” Or whether multiple consecutive “that”s are acceptable. Or sometimes whether a “that” should be there at all. “That” is picked on, and it isn’t fair. It deserves better.

Before we address these various grammar kerfuffles, let’s take a moment to admire the impressive ambition and versatility of “that”:

• demonstrative pronoun: That is a pointless edit.
• demonstrative adjective: That comma omission is unacceptable.
• conjunction: I feel that your capitalization is out of control.
• relative pronoun: The edit that you made caused two dangling modifiers.
• adverb: Your punctuation T-shirt is not that stylish.

This grammar versatility increases the likelihood of “that” pileups. Two in a row are common, and people often dislike word duplication.

I personally don’t mind the double “that” in “I doubt that that punctuation-free lifestyle will please them for long.” The first one is a conjunction, and the second is a demonstrative adjective. If you delete the conjunction to avoid repetition, it is possible a reader will misread your remaining “that” as the conjunction on the first go-through. Not a big deal, but it happens.

Sometimes an actually helpful “that” is deleted for the sake of word count. While I believe in economy of language, word count isn’t everything.

Please read this:

We didn’t believe Robin
would lie.

For that tiny dot of time it took you to return to the left margin, did you think Robin was a liar? Adding a “that”—“We didn’t believe that Robin would lie”— makes even temporary ruination of Robin’s reputation impossible.

Another thing people are definitely arguing about somewhere on the Upper West Side right now is whether “that” can be used for people. Merriam-Webster says, “The notion that ‘that’ should not be used to refer to persons is without foundation; such use is entirely standard.”

I tend to use “who” with people in writing, but a New Yorker article about a show called Bum Bum Train includes an utterly typical example of a human “that” in its second sentence: “The illuminated sign, and the handful of nervous-looking people that gather outside four evenings a week, are the only clues that there’s something odd going on.”

In A Star Is Born, Judy Garland sang “The Man That Got Away”—not “The Man Who Got Away.”

There’s an endless supply of such examples out there, but it’s time to move on to “that” versus “which.” In which of the two sentences below are some grammar books saved from destruction?

1. The grammar geek discarded the grammar books that were out of date.
2. The grammar geek discarded the grammar books, which were out of date.

If you chose the first one, you are right. “That” is a restrictive relative pronoun there—it restricts or limits. In the second version, all the books are tossed. The “which” is a nonrestrictive relative pronoun; “which were out of date” describes but doesn’t limit the category of grammar books.

Here’s another version:

3. The grammar geek discarded the grammar books which were out of date.

The meaning of this sentence is equivalent to the first sentence above, with “that”—not the second sentence with the comma plus “which.” The lack of punctuation matters more than word choice as an indicator of restrictiveness.

Many American English speakers would object to this third version, and I wouldn’t write it myself, but “which” has an illustrious history of being used in “that”-like ways.

In fourth grade, I memorized the Declaration of Independence, which uses a “which” restrictively by its nineteenth word: “When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another…”

I also read a lot of English novels as a child. English novels are awash in restrictive “which”s. Here are two in a single sentence from Mrs. Dalloway: “The violent explosion which made Mrs. Dalloway jump and Miss Pym go to the window and apologise came from a motor car which had drawn to the side of the pavement precisely opposite Mulberry’s shop window.”

And now I have a grammar confession. I have never admitted this publicly, but I am pretty sure that in the early 1990s, I changed some “that”s in student papers to “which”s. I hope I’m wrong about this, but if I’m not, I apologize to affected students for that ridiculousness. I would have been operating under the influence of English novels, which just goes to show you the kind of mischief that can ensue from excessive novel reading.

Ellen Jovin is the author of the national bestseller Rebel with a Clause and the subject of a new docu-comedy by Brandt Johnson, also called Rebel with a Clause, which is currently in residence at New Plaza Cinema on the Upper West Side and playing at theaters around the country. You’ll find a complete collection of her columns for the WSR — HERE.

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