Imagine the scene: You are at a sophisticated dinner party. The conversation is flowing, constraints are low, and the hors d’oeuvres are excellent. Then, the host asks a question about the upcoming theatre trip. A guest, eager to establish their intellectual pedigree, clears their throat and asks, “Whom shall go to the premiere?”

The room goes silent. The speaker smiles, believing they have just utilized the height of English grammar. In reality, they have just committed a linguistic crime known as hypercorrection.

We often think of “bad grammar” as the result of laziness or a lack of education. We criticize “ain’t”, dangling modifiers, and slang. But there represents a different category of error—one born not from carelessness, but from trying too hard. Hypercorrection is the tragic irony of language: in a desperate attempt to sound prestigious, correct, and posh, the speaker applies a grammatical rule in a situation where it does not belong, ultimately achieving the exact opposite of their goal.

The Psychology of “Sounding Smart”

To understand why we mangle our own language, we have to look at sociolinguistics. In the 1960s, linguist William Labov conducted famous studies regarding social stratification and language. One of the key takeaways was the concept of Linguistic Insecurity.

Native speakers who feel secure in their social standing tend not to worry much about the minutiae of grammar rules. However, speakers who are aspiring to a higher social status (often the lower-middle class, in Labov’s studies) tend to over-monitor their speech. They are hyper-aware of “prestige forms” of language.

The problem arises because they know a rule exists (like using “whom” or specialized plurals), but they haven’t internalized the deep grammatical structure governing that rule. They overcompensate. They put on a linguistic tuxedo for a backyard barbecue, and in doing so, they trip over their own coattails.

The Tragedy of “Whom”

Let’s return to our dinner party offender: “Whom shall go.”

The word “whom” is dying a slow death in modern English, but it remains a zombie that people drag out when they want to sound formal. The rule, however, is strict. “Who” is a subjective pronoun (like he, she, I, they). “Whom” is an objective pronoun (like him, her, me, them).

The “He/Him” Test:
If you can replace the word with “he”, use who.
If you can replace the word with “him”, use whom.

Let’s look at the sentence: “___ shall go?”

• Would you say, “Him shall go”? No. That sounds like a caveman speaking.
• Would you say, “He shall go”? Yes.

Therefore, “Who shall go” is the only grammatically correct option. When the speaker says “Whom shall go”, they are effectively saying “Him shall go.” By reaching for the “fancy” word, they have made themselves the subject of the sentence—and the subject of ridicule.

“Between You and I”: The Classroom Scar

Perhaps the most pervasive hypercorrection in the English language is the phrase “Between you and I.” It sounds elegant. It sounds polite. It is also completely wrong.

This error usually stems from childhood trauma inflicted by well-meaning schoolteachers. As children, we likely said things like, “Me and hopscotch don’t mix”, or “Him and me went to the park.” The teacher would wag a finger and say, “No, Johnny. It is He and I.”

We internalized a false rule: “Me” is low-class; “I” is sophisticated.

However, “I” is a subject, and “me” is an object. In English, prepositions (words like between, with, for, to, from) must be followed by an object. You would never say, “This present is for I.” You would say, “This present is for me.”

Just because you add another person to the sentence (“you”), the grammar rules do not change. The correct phrasing is always “Between you and me.” When politicians, CEOs, or TV characters say “Between you and I”, they are signaling that they are afraid of the word “me.”

The “Octopi” Problem: Pseudo-Intellectual Plurals

Hypercorrection isn’t just about pronouns; it also infests our vocabulary. A classic example is the pluralization of the word octopus.

Many people incorrectly correct others by insisting the plural is octopi. They assume that because the word ends in “-us”, it must be a Latin Second Declension noun (like cactus becoming cacti). They want to show off their knowledge of classical roots.

The tragedy? Octopus isn’t Latin. It is ancient Greek (oktōpus). If you want to use the classical plural, it would technically be octopodes (pronounced oc-TOP-o-des). However, because we are speaking English, the standard English pluralization applies.

Correct: Octopuses.
Hypercorrect: Octopi (applying a Latin rule to a Greek word to sound smart).

The “Ly” Trap: “I feel badly”

Have you ever heard someone apologize by saying, “I feel very badly about that”?

This is another case of over-applying a learned rule. We are taught that adverbs end in “-ly” and that we should use them to modify verbs. We are told not to say “He ran quick”, but rather “He ran quickly.”

So, people assume that “I feel bad” is incorrect because “bad” is an adjective. They hypercorrect to “badly.”

However, the verb “to feel” (in the context of emotions) is a linking verb, not an action verb. Linking verbs connects the subject to a state of being, and they take adjectives. If you say “I feel badly”, you are literally saying that your mechanism for feeling physical sensations is broken—impliying that your fingers are numb. If you are experiencing guilt or remorse, you feel bad.

Hyper-Foreignisms

Finally, we have the cringeworthy world of hyper-foreignisms—where speakers try to pronounce a borrowed word with an “authentic” accent but end up applying the wrong accent to the wrong language.

A common example is the cheese Gouda. In America, it is standard to say “Goo-da.” A hyper-corrector might insist on “How-da”, mimicking the Dutch guttural G. While technically closer to the source, doing this in the middle of a standard English sentence often breaks the flow of communication.

Worse is when the accent is applied incorrectly. Take the chili pepper habanero. Many English speakers pronounce it as “habañero” (with the ‘nye’ sound found in jalapeño). They are trying to respect the Spanish origin of the word. The problem? The Spanish word is habanero (named after Havana). There is no tilde (ñ) in the word. By trying to sound authentically Spanish, the speaker invents a sound that doesn’t exist in the original word.

The Takeaway: Communication Over Perfection

The tragedy of hypercorrection is that it stems from a desire to be good. We want to respect the language, and we want to present our best selves. But language is, first and foremost, a tool for communication.

When we prioritize adherence to perceived archaic rules over natural flow, we create distance between ourselves and the listener. We signal insecurity rather than intelligence.

The next time you feel the urge to say “Whom shall”, “Between you and I”, or “Octopi”, pause. Take a breath. If you aren’t 100% sure of the grammar, choose the simpler option. Trust your ear. If it sounds like something a Victorian ghost would say, it’s probably a hypercorrection.

Language is messy, evolving, and beautiful. Don’t let your fear of being wrong stop you from being real.