"One of the peculiarities of being Irish is a tendency, when using
what grammarians call the negative-interrogative for the first-person
singular present indicative, to say “amn’t I?” Reacting to good
fortune, for example, we will ask: “Amn’t I the lucky one?”
Or conversely, after locking keys in the car, we lament: “Amn’t I the
big eejit?” For some reason, the phrase seems especially popular with
Irish mothers, although this could be the influence of a few famous
ones, including Christy Brown’s, whose typical utterances included
appealing to the ultimate matriarch: “Mother of God, amn’t I
scourged?”
Anyway, in using this form, we would seem to have the English language
rule-book on our side. “I am” is, after all, the first-person singular
of the verb “to be”. “I am not” is its negation. “Am I not?” or “Am
not I” are the acceptable interrogative forms, which gives “amn’t I?”
as the logical abbreviation.
But somehow this is not the norm in English. On the contrary, in the
vast anglophone world, we are almost alone in using it. Only our
cousins in the north of the neighbouring island do likewise.
Thus the great authority on these matters, Fowler’s Dictionary, while
agreeing that amn’t I? should be the “expected reduced form” of am I
not?, notes its popularity in Scotland and Ireland “but not in
standard southern British English” or elsewhere.
Instead, for centuries, the English have said ain’t I? or aren’t I?:
habits which, particularly the former, have spread to the US and
beyond. And it seems there is no better reason for this, historically,
than that most people in Britain couldn’t pronounce the sounds “m” and
“n” together.
One of the letters had to go, and it tended to be “m”. The phrase
first became an’t I? or ain’t I?. Then, when the short a gave way to a
longer one in speech, there needed to be a way to suggest this in
writing. The solution was to add an “r”, making the written question
aren’t I?
The “r” was unrolled and therefore silent, except to turn the short
ain’t into a longer ahn’t. But in writing, it suggests an illogical
belief that the answer to the question aren’t I? could be I are. And
the annoying thing about this is that these same long-a sounds have
often been considered prestige English.
Happily, in this case, that didn’t apply. Ain’t never quite became
respectable, even in America. Meanwhile in Britain, aren’t remains
frowned on too.
Kingsley Amis included the latter in The King’s English, his guide to
the use and abuse of language. With typical sensitivity, he suggested
aren’t I? “is often said but better not written except in fictional
dialogue, where it usually helps to characterise some semi-literate or
otherwise low person”.
He went on to give his own history of the phrase, agreeing that am not
I? or amn’t I? were the logical forms, “but nobody could say either
easily”.
To this and the rest of his defence of ain’t, (which he called
“perfectly good English”), he added a telling conclusion.
Most sticklers for correct usage claim respect for language as
motivation. The urge to score points off others is rarely mentioned.
So we must appreciate Amis’s honesty when he writes: “One attraction
of my theory is the ill-natured glee it brings to believers in it when
they hear some unreconstructed pedant struggling to say amn’t I? I
remember that the late AJ Ayer was one of these”.
AJ Ayer was an English philosopher. And although Amis was mentioning
him in a lesson about the importance of clear English, it’s not
obvious from the sentence whether he meant Ayer to be one of the
“believers” in his theory or “some unreconstructed pedant”.
Resisting the temptation for ill-natured glee, I will assume he meant
the latter – ie that Ayer was a rare English enthusiast for amn’t I.
But either way, a philosopher (of all people) would have understand
how fundamental the question contained within that phrase can be.
Ayer was certainly not a believer in the religious sense. He first
considered arguments about God’s existence unprovable and therefore
meaningless.
Then he became a devout atheist in later life, until a near-death
experience caused him doubts.
He still preferred atheism even then. But we haven’t heard from him
since his actual death, in 1989. So we remain no wiser about the
existence of God, or indeed his mother, not to mention the really
important issue for grammarians: whether, when using the
negative-interrogative for the first-person singular in English, they
say amn’t I?"
But, I wouldn't know. Ain't nor amn't I never used.