In a recent post (Some Things Are More Important), we looked at this sentence as an example of a subordinated construction: He thought that his client, who, he believed, was not being entirely forthright, would not fare well on appeal. In commenting on the relative clause who was not being entirely forthright, I explained only briefly—and perhaps too quickly—why who and not whom is correct. Here is a more complete explanation of that often misunderstood grammatical point.
The words who and whom represent two forms of a grammatical device called a relative pronoun. Pronouns stand in the stead of nouns, and relative pronouns, a common species of pronouns, refer back (the literal meaning of the Latin term relative) to a noun in the immediately preceding clause. The referent of a relative pronoun is called its antecedent, and so in our example, the antecedent of the relative pronoun who is the noun client.
Now relative pronouns create what are called relative clauses, a group of words with a subject and a verb, usually (but not always) beginning with the relative pronoun. Such relative clauses are by definition subordinate; they depend upon some other, independent clause to complete their significance, and they most often function in their entirety as an adjective. Thus, the relative clause who was not being entirely forthright serves to say more about the antecedent client by way of describing that person. Elements which describe constitute adjectives, and so the complete relative clause—all six words—acts as an adjective characterizing the noun client.
The form who is used when the relative pronoun represents the subject of its relative clause. In grammatical terminology this is called the nominative case (as we see also in the forms I, he, she of certain subject pronouns). The nominative form who is correct in our example sentence because the verb of the relative clause, was not being, needs a subject, and subjects are indicated by the nominative case (just as we would write I or he or she was not being entirely forthright). The form whom, by contrast, is called the objective case, and that form is employed when we mean to indicate the object of another word, most often of a transitive verb, but also of a preposition. Thus, in a sentence such as the client, whom I met yesterday, was not entirely forthright, the antecedent of whom is again the noun client, but the form of the relative pronoun has changed to the objective case to indicate that it is standing in its clause as the direct object of the transitive verb met.
It is, then, this formal requirement that the direct object of a transitive verb present itself in the objective case which lies behind the mistaken conclusion that who in our example should be whom: the verb believe is transitive, so shouldn’t its object also be in the objective case whom? The correction to that mistaken assumption can be seen easily when we step back from the grammar to ask of the sentence the direct logical question, what did he believe? The subject he did not believe the client, but he believed that the client was not being entirely forthright. That idea is expressed by its entire clause—subject (who), verb (was not being), and complement (entirely forthright). It may be that our ear wants to hear whom by virtue of its proximity to the transitive verb believe, but our ear is for discerning the higher reaches of style and meaning, not building the structural groundwork of grammar.
Sentences of such design are complex and sophisticated because of what they do not say but nonetheless strongly suggest. Was the fact that the client was not thought to be entirely forthright the cause of his likely losing on appeal? We would look in vain for that explicit assertion in the sentence—but we would look naïve in not realizing that such a reason was being very strongly implied. Sophistication often runs with irony, each urging us not simply to believe that things are merely what they appear to be, but that both real life and its literary representation often require a subtle discerning of what is not visible.
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Upcoming Short Course
Beginning Wednesday evening, February 5, from 6:00 to 7:00 CT, Writing Smartly will offer again its four-week online short course entitled Reading Closely to Write. Each week we will examine the structure and stylistic design of sentences from one short story (each averaging about 15 pages) written by a celebrated author.
We will analyze the grammar and composition of certain significant sentences, and consider how other designs the author could have chosen would have produced different effects. Our emphasis will be on the grammar and language of the reading so that we can begin to develop an eye and ear for discovering our own natural written voice. By considering linguistic forms closely like this, we can come to appreciate the craft of language, training ourselves to discern assumptions and question implications—all to become more thoughtful about what we read and hear.
New selections this term will be from Short Story Masterpieces, edited by Robert Penn Warren and Albert Erskine (Dell Publishing, 1982), readily available at Amazon and elsewhere. Tuition for this four-session online short course is $300, paid through Zelle (ultimo@writingsmartly.com), or by personal check (please email me for the mailing address). Upon your registration, I will reply with a confirmation and the Zoom link for the course.
I hope you can join us.
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