The Word Nerd on English Prefixes

by Connie Kent

We all know that the prefixes -in, -im, -ir, -un, and of course -non, usually mean not, as in incomplete (not complete), impossible (not possible), irregular (not regular), unhappy (not happy), and nonsense (doesn’t make sense).

But we don’t seem to have positive versions for some of these negative words. If disheveled means messy, shouldn’t the opposite be heveled? And shouldn’t the opposite of disgruntled be gruntled? And the opposite of unhinged be hinged?

Clearly inert means incapable of movement or activity, a negative attribute. So shouldn’t ert mean active? And if immaculate means “unblemished, clean,” shouldn’t maculate mean “stained, blemished”?

Here’s a little poem written by someone named Bindy:

I’m a virgin, at least for now, still,
And yeah, I am over the hill.
But after this date
I will be maculate;
(At least it’s my hope that I will!).
-Bindy Bitterman, Chicago, Illinois

Sometimes the very same prefixes that usually mean the negative mean the positive, such as intelligent, and ingenuity, and innocent. And imply, impetuous, iridescent, and irrigate. If we remove the prefix, is the remaining word the negative? Should the negative of intelligent be telligent? And if ingenuity means clever, does genuity mean NOT clever? And what about innocent (uncorrupted, sinless), clearly a positive quality? Shouldn’t nocent mean criminal? If something is not important, is it portent?

There are lots more in this category: irritate, impetus, impinge, implicit, implode, impose.

To make matters even more confusing, there are some words that mean almost the same with the negative prefix as without: implant/plant; inflammable/flammable.

Then of course there’s disinterested, which doesn’t mean “not interested” at all, but rather “without bias.”

Here’s something to ponder: If an orchestra is meeting for the first time, do they hearse rather than rehearse?

Aren’t you glad you grew up speaking English? And if you didn’t, how did you ever learn this inconsistent (NOT consistent) language?

I leave you with another poem (you’ll need to add prefixes to the words you don’t recognize):

I know a little man both ept and ert.
An intro-? extro-? No, he’s just a vert.
Sheveled and couth and kempt, pecunious, ane,
His image trudes upon the ceptive brain.

When life turns sipid and the mind is traught,
The spirit soars as I would sist it ought.
Chalantly then, like any gainly goof,
My digent self is sertive, choate, loof.

— David McCord; The Oxford Book of American Light Verse; 1979.