{"id":41791,"date":"2018-04-06T12:41:43","date_gmt":"2018-04-06T11:41:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.bmj.com\/bmj\/?p=41791"},"modified":"2018-04-13T10:54:37","modified_gmt":"2018-04-13T09:54:37","slug":"jeffrey-aronson-when-i-use-a-word-tit-for-tat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.bmj.com\/bmj\/2018\/04\/06\/jeffrey-aronson-when-i-use-a-word-tit-for-tat\/","title":{"rendered":"Jeffrey Aronson: When I use a word . . . Tit for tat"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"jeffrey_aronson\"<\/a>There is currently a lot of talk about tit for tat, whether in the spheres of diplomacy or trade.<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course, when medical readers see the term \u201ctit for tat\u201d, they will immediately think of the <\/span>type VI secretion system<\/span><\/a> that bacteria use to target other cells by translocating effector proteins. Or perhaps the <\/span>substitution<\/span><\/a> of inosine for adenine in a TAT sequence of bases in DNA, giving TIT instead of TAT. Or perhaps not.<\/span><\/p>\n

The noun phrase \u201ctit for tat\u201d may have arisen as a variant of \u201ctip for tap\u201d, one stroke in return for another. The former, the earliest citation of which in the <\/span>Oxford English Dictionary<\/span><\/i> is from 1546, appears to antedate the latter by about 30 years, although that is a short enough time for the possibility of an antedating of the former by the latter. Another possible origin is from the Dutch dit vor dat, this for that. However, collateral evidence for the other hypothesis comes from Shakespeare\u2019s use of \u201ctap for tap\u201d in Henry IV Part 2<\/em> (2.i.195) in the context of a fencing bout. This idea goes back to the biblical principle of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and the Roman lex talionis<\/em>, in English talion law, retaliation, or, in the words of the Mikado in Gilbert and Sullivan\u2019s opera of that name, letting the punishment fit the crime.<\/span><\/p>\n

Originally the phrase was used literally, but before long metaphorical usages emerged, as in the old Scottish proverb that demeans the efforts of women in the face of insuperable odds, given, for example, in the form of a <\/span>Wellerism<\/span><\/a> in James Kelly\u2019s <\/span>A Complete Collection of Scottish Proverbs<\/span><\/i> (1721): \u201cTitt for tatt, quoth the Wife when she farted at the Thunder.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Why do we say \u201ctit for tat\u201d and not \u201ctat for tit\u201d? The Dutch explanation of the origin of the phrase would answer this satisfactorily, but there is a deeper reason.<\/span><\/p>\n

In English there is a fixed word order for adjectives, sometimes called the <\/span>Royal Order<\/span><\/a>, as follows: [determiner]-quality or opinion-size-age-shape-colour-place of origin or position-material-qualifier-[noun]. The initial determiner can be the definite or indefinite article (the or a[n]), a number or quantity (three, four, several, some), or a pronoun (his, her, that); the quality or opinion is a value judgment\u2014good\/bad, beautiful\/ugly, interesting\/boring; size, age, shape, colour, place of origin, and material need no explanation; the final qualifier is any adjective not covered by the other categories, for example, a purpose (a diagnostic test), a constituent (a barium meal), or a technique (an MRI scan). So, we say an indwelling, latex, urinary catheter (determiner, position, material, purpose) rather than any other order of the adjectives.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBig bad wolf\u201d is an exception to this. We should say \u201cbad big wolf\u201d, but we don\u2019t because of a stronger rule\u2014the preference for a particular order of vowels in consecutive words: <\/span>e<\/span><\/i>, then <\/span>i<\/span><\/i>, then <\/span>a<\/span><\/i>, then <\/span>o<\/span><\/i>, then \u00a0<\/span>u<\/span><\/i>. For example, the giant in the story of Jack and the beanstalk says fee-fi-fo-fum. Here are examples of the variant called reduplication with vowel variation.<\/span><\/p>\n