Well, here we are into the New Year. I hope all of you had a peaceful and pleasant holiday season, with lots of good food and good company.
As promised, I’m here to express some ideas that have been brewing in my head during this conversational thread. I hasten to acknowledge that much of my thinking is deeply informed by, if not directly stolen from, a wonderful little volume written about 10 years ago by Michael Lewis called,
The English Verb. It has been mentioned several times here on this forum by several different posters, yet it is clear from the content of many posts that there are quite a few teachers around who have, for whatever reasons, not yet had the pleasure of entertaining Mr. Lewis’ ideas. Let me begin here by again urging a reading of this fine piece of work to those who have not. There are, it is true, a few other good references out there about the English verb system, but I must say I’ve not personally come across any others that have the clarity of effect on my thinking that this work has. Not only that, but I’m afraid there are, sad to say, many earlier and more recent books about English verbs which misinform, mislead, oversimplify, overcomplicate, or otherwise do harm to students’ and teachers’ understanding of verb structure. Some of these poorly conceived works have become standard references and are often quoted in places like classrooms and this forum as though they were the last word on the subject. There is no last word. The English language is an ongoing saga that will not be finished in my lifetime, nor in the lifetimes of anyone reading this. It changes continually, but unfortunately, there are at least some teachers who continue to insist that what was proper grammatical use in 1920 or 1950 must also now be preserved as proper use today. Why, I wonder, don’t they invoke the grammar of Shakespeare’s English? I mean why stop in their retrospection at the beginning of the last century?
But I digress, and apologize for the soapboxing. Some of my frustrations are showing.
Perhaps the best place to start is to suggest that we teachers ought to take a lesson from linguists in recognizing that there is a practical and very clarifying difference between
tenses and
aspects in English verb structure. We often confusingly lump them all together and call the whole bunch by the appellation
tenses. We speak of Progressive Tenses, or Perfect Tenses, and try to make comparisons with Simple Tense forms. This is like comparing oranges to grapefruits. It confuses everyone, particularly because there are some superficial similarities. Linguists uncontroversially (within their own field) recognize that there are
only two tenses in English:
Present Simple Tense and
Past Simple Tense. All the others are
aspects. The most significant factor involved in the selection of either Present Simple Tense or Past Simple Tense is that despite their names they have nothing whatsoever to do directly with time. It may be counterintuitive, but
time and
tense are not the same things. Tense is an arbitrary grammatical construct which entails morphology of the basic form of a verb allowing a user to express his interpretation of a certain remoteness, or its opposite, lack of remoteness [
Lewis uses the term ‘immediacy’ as the opposite of remoteness, but I prefer simply to say that there is no marking for remoteness] of the event or condition he is describing. Choice between Present Simple Tense and Past Simple Tense is similar in some ways to the thinking involved in choosing to use
this or
that, and
here or
there when referring to spatial remoteness. In many cases of actual use, the remoteness referred to when choosing to use Past Simple Tense may be a remoteness of time, but this is accidental. It is
not the only kind of remoteness that may prompt users to use that form. For instance, in certain circumstances it is entirely correct and common for a speaker to say, “
What did you say your name was?” It even could be, "
What was your name?" This does not imply that the speaker believes that your name now might be different than it was when you originally mentioned it (if you did mention it earlier). Suppose she is a hotel clerk asking about the name under which a reservation has been made. Of course, she could as well have chosen to say, “
What is your name?” or even, “
What did you say your name is?” but she chooses not to. Why? There must be some reason. Speakers do not flip mental coins to choose between equal utterances. There must be something different about the
meaning of the candidate utterances that makes choice possible. We’d all soon sink into schizophrenia otherwise. What makes the first choice particular to the situation at hand is that it implies remoteness. “What kind of remoteness?” you might ask. That is part of the task of an active listener to determine. An attentive listener will inquire (of himself), “What could be remote here? It is surely not time. This person is asking my name. It cannot be that her central interest is something I said at an earlier point. Why would she care about that? She surely has every expectation that I haven’t changed my name in the meantime."
A likely possibility here is that she is expressing a representation of her perceived relationship with you: strictly business
(= arm’s length—which is to say, remote). It’s not that she’s sending a message that she does not wish to be friendly, but is merely acknowledging that you and she have a business relationship. How many kinds of remoteness are there? I’m not sure I could list all of them, but there is at least remoteness of time, relationship, possibility, and likelihood. An employee who says, “
Did you want to see me, boss?” is expressing, I believe, a remoteness of likelihood, and perhaps of relationship as well. He is not sure if the boss wants to see him or not, but we can be certain he is not asking if the boss wanted to see him at some earlier time. What good would it do to ask that? Again, it would be just as possible to say, “
Do you want to see me, boss?”, but that is
not what is said. The choice implies, as in the earlier example, some sort of remoteness in the estimation of the speaker. We cannot, as listeners, always be sure precisely what is in a speaker’s mind; we only know what he says. The interpretation is up to us, using the clues the speaker provides. It is possible for speakers even to use Past Simple Tense verbs to refer to a future action: “
Would you mind if I opened the window?” This speaker is not sure whether you would mind or not. The point here is that choice of Past Simple does not
automatically indicate that the action referred to occurs,
in the speaker’s view, in past time. There are only two choices of tense: Present Simple or Past Simple. Present Simple is
unmarked. It is a simple statement of fact.
Period. There is no other marking required, in the speaker’s view. Past Simple is also a statement of fact, but it is
marked for remoteness. The kind of remoteness is left for the listener to determine, from several possibilities, including time. Note also, that both tenses always appear as single words; there is no auxiliary in the verb phrase.
Aspect, on the other hand is exactly about time. Different forms imply the speaker’s different interpretations of the temporal elements of the action described. All
aspect forms use auxiliaries in the formation of the verb phrase. These forms can be described using time lines on your classroom whiteboards. Tenses
cannot. Progressive forms are aspects. So are Perfect forms. They differ fundamentally from tenses in that they are not about the same kind of interpretation by the speaker. So now we get around to the issue of using Past Simple verbs together with Past Perfect Aspects in sentences. It is useless to ask about which action occurs earlier or later as a “rule” of uses of the two forms together. One form states a fact and marks it for remoteness. The other one marks for “perfection”, which, contrary to popular belief, does not necessarily mean “finished”.
Stephen Jones agrees with this in his post above when he says he wasn’t thinking about Perfect
Progressive forms. Evidently, then, perfect does
not mean finished. It means that the speaker is taking a retrospective point-of-view. He is looking back in time from some particular point or period of time to the time of the action. On some speaking occasions, that may look quite similar to finished, hence the confusion. Different flavors of perfect forms recognize that a speaker may look back from some past time, from now, or from some future time. All are possible, and all are included in the forms available.
Let’s take, now,
Echidna’s examples as he stated in his first post.
“
By the time he had found a parking spot, he was already late for the movie.”
“
I arrived before she had finished unpacking.”
In the first example, “
By the time…” establishes that there is a particular time which the speaker is setting up to be used as a reference point. It is indeed from that moment that the speaker is
able to look back upon finding the parking spot. We also know that that time occurs before the moment of speaking because of his choice of form in the perfecting auxiliary,
had. The rest of the sentence merely states a remote fact that is relevant to that time: “…
he was already late for the movie.” This one is remote in time, because clearly time is an essential element to the understanding of this sentence. We know that because it begins: “
By the time…”
The second example contains a remote factual event, “
I arrived…” and a retrospective event, “…
she had finished unpacking.” It doesn’t matter which comes first in the sentence. “
She had finished unpacking before I arrived” works just as well. It is the time of arrival that is used as the vantage point for looking back at the completion of unpacking. But use of the word “
before” makes it clear which event takes place first. So here the Past Simple event is the earlier action. Note, however, that the sentence is just as good if it reads:
“
I arrived after she had finished unpacking.”
I presume it is clear that the completion of unpacking in this sentence occurs first. So there
cannot be a rule designating that a Past Simple event occurs before (or after) a Past Perfect event in a compound sentence.
Sorry for the long answer.

I just felt it necessary to explain where I am coming from before answering
Echidna’s original question. Please, everyone, what I have said above in this post is not how I believe it should be explained to students.

Few of our students would have the necessary background for clearly understanding this rather convoluted explanation. But teachers should know how verbs work, even if they understand them on a different level than they show to their students. I hope this has been helpful to some of you, but I wouldn’t wish it on your classroom charges.

I leave it to you to decide how best to work with them.
Larry Latham