Never Split Infinitives: Split Happens
- Ed Good
- Feb 25
- 5 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
Split Happens!
De-Bunking the No-Split-Infinitive "Rule"
The Myth That Wouldn’t Die
Some writing myths just won’t go away. They linger like an old superstition passed down from one generation to the next. One of the most persistent? The so-called rule that you should never split an infinitive. As in, never insert a word between the word to and the verb it accompanies.
To boldly go?
Absolutely not, purists might say.
But we say: nonsense. That’s bunk.
What’s an Infinitive—and How Do You Split It?
Let’s first make sure we know what we’re dealing with. An infinitive is the basic form of a verb, usually preceded by the word to. In my courses, I define it this way:
"An infinitive is the verb word you’d look up in the dictionary.” You wouldn’t look up written, you’d look up write. That’s the infinitive. Not sang, but sing. That’s the infinitive. Not learning, but learn. That’s the infinitive.
Then put the word to in front and you’ve got the expression we call an infinitive.
Examples
to write
to sing
to learn.
A split infinitive occurs when the writer puts another word (usually an -ly adverb) between to and the verb.
Examples
to boldly go (Hey Trekkies, Mr. Spock got it right!)
to truly understand
to gently rock
Critics of this construction have long warned writers to avoid it. Why? The answer has more to do with 19th-century "Latin envy" than with clarity.
Where Did the No-Split Rule Come From?
This myth was born in the 1800s, when grammarians tried to make English behave like Latin. In Latin, you cannot split an infinitive. Why? Because in Latin, it’s just one word. So Latin-based stylists insisted that English follow suit—even though English, unlike Latin, uses two words to write the infinitive form of a verb.
Examples
amare (Latin form of “to love”)
to love (English form of “to love”)
It gets worse. By the early 20th century, this made-up rule had found its way into schoolbooks and was taught as gospel. Writers began contorting their sentences to obey this imaginary constraint. The result? Clunky writing.
The OED Weighs In
The OED? That’s The Oxford English Dictionary, often called “the last word on words.”
In 1998, the OED announced the publication of its Oxford American Desk Dictionary. In the press release, an OED editor said that rules of grammar do not forbid the splitting of an infinitive.
All hell broke loose.
Loftus Jestin, the head of the English department at Central Connecticut State University, quipped:
"Hearing split infinitives is like listening to Mozart when the pianist keeps hitting all the wrong notes.”
And Samuel Pickering, the inspiration for the teacher in the movie Dead Poets Society, added:
"I do not dine with those who split infinitives.”
The OED isn’t alone. Language experts—from H.W. Fowler to Bryan Garner—agree: there’s no grammatical reason to avoid splitting an infinitive.
So why do so many writers cower in a corner when faced with modifying an infinitive with an adverb?
Why Writers Still Fear the Split
Old habits die hard. And myths that once carried the weight of authority still hold psychological sway. Many people worry that a grammar pedant might scoff at their prose if they split an infinitive.
Having taught effective writing to thousands of people all over the world, I can tell you that many either (1) firmly believe that splitting an infinitive is a grotesque grammatical mistake or (2) work for someone who, well, someone who does not dine with those who split.
Here, we’re talking about bone-chilling fear.
But consider the truth: when clarity, emphasis, or rhythm calls for it, splitting the infinitive not only breaks no rules but creates more effective prose. Forcing your adverb to migrate before the to or after the verb often creates sentences an Elon Musk robot might utter when reading the U.S. Tax Code.
Compare
She decided to gradually let go of her past. Preferred.
She decided gradually to let go of her past. Ambiguous. Did she “gradually decide” or “gradually let go”?
She decided to let go gradually of her past. Awkward.
The first version gets our nod. The second and third will win no awards. When we split the infinitive, we put the adverb exactly where it belongs: right before the verb it modifies.
A Few Classic Examples
Let’s not forget Star Trek’s iconic phrase: “to boldly go where no man has gone before.”
Imagine the alternatives
to go boldly?
boldly to go?
Neither lands the same punch. The split infinitive carries the rhythm and the punch that made the line so memorable.
Consider these three sentences:
1. We aim to clearly communicate our mission. 2. We aim clearly to communicate our mission. 3. We aim to communicate our mission clearly.
None breaks any grammatical rules. But the first has immediacy. It puts the adverb—clearly—exactly where it does the most good.
Split Happens in Style: Watch What Great Writers Do
Check out these examples of great writers cheerfully ignoring the no-split rule.
Lord Byron
"To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene ….” Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto I Project Guttenberg Ebook (search text for "to slowly"; use CTRL "f")
Robert Burns
"O Thou! who pour’d the patriotic tide, That stream’d thro’ Wallace’s undaunted heart, Who dar’d to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part:" The Cotter’s Saturday Night (1786) Scottish Poetry Library (search text for "to nobly"; use CTRL "f")
Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson "To fully appreciate the profound change the majority has wrought, one must first acknowledge what it means to have immunity from criminal prosecution." Trump v. United States, 603 U. S. ____ (2024) (Jackson, J., dissenting). Justice Jackson's Dissent (in left panel, click "Dissent (Jackson)" and then use CTRL "f" to search for "to fully")
These examples show that split infinitives aren’t just acceptable: they often provide the best way to convey nuance, rhythm, or emphasis.
When Not to Split
Sometimes you should avoid splitting an infinitive. If the split sounds awkward, disrupts rhythm, or draws attention to itself, it’s better to rephrase.
Examples
She tried to completely and irrevocably forget the past. Here the double-adverb split makes the sentence heavy. Instead, we might write:
She tried to forget the past completely and irrevocably. Keep the verb forget and its object past together. Not: She tried to forget completely and irrevocably the past.
Use your ear. If the split helps, keep it. If it hurts, rewrite.
What My Course Teaches
In Section 3.04(a) of Write Better Right Now, you’ll find a thorough, and I hope entertaining, discussion of this issue, complete with examples, exercises, and myth-busting history. We don’t just say “Go ahead and split.” We show you how, when, and why it works.
And because my course focuses on clear, plain English, you’ll walk away with the confidence to split an infinitive without fearing the wrath of English professors who deign to balk at the “last word on words” … the OED.
Final Thought: Don’t Let the Bunk Stop You
We need to debunk the bunk. The Grammar Dude, the persona I’ve adopted in the Rap De-Bunk da Bunk assumes the role of a sharp and worthy King —but he doesn’t traffic in myths. He rules the roost by making our meaning clear, not by forcing us to obey rules imported from a dead language.
Split happens. And when it does, if usually improves your writing.
Ready to Write Better Right Now?
To learn more about common writing myths (and how to bust them), check out my online course at WriteCorrectly.com. You’ll learn how to spot the real rules, reject the phony ones, and become the kind of writer whose style gets noticed—in a good way.
Because good writing isn’t about fear. It’s about clarity.
To boldly go?
Heck yes.
Without doubt.
