THE cult of the active voice is an enduring influence in English grammar. From grade school onwards most everybody is taught that sentences in the active voice are the end-all and be-all of English, and that passive-voice sentences should be avoided like the plague. Grammar teachers furiously drill into every learner's head that the sentence 'Emilio hit Andres violently with a bat' is superior to 'Andres was hit violently by Emilio with a bat.' The active-voice is thus elevated to icon status, never to be questioned nor resisted. No wonder then that many writers come up with clumsy, rubberstamp active-voice English sentences almost entirely and speak like the perpetually active-voice talking robots in science-fiction movies.

When we get down to the real-life dynamics of English, however, it's difficult not to conclude that a totally active-voice essay, prose narrative, or speech is neither practical nor desirable. Indeed, speaking with an unbroken train of active-voice sentences is in many ways the equivalent of speaking stridently at all times or of singing a song on a high note from start to finish. We all know how exhausting this can be for both performer and audience. One major use of the passive voice is, in fact, to leaven such verbal performances — to provide low-energy counterpoints to the high-energy semantic field created by active-voice sentences.