Introduction

I’ve lost count of how many times, over the years, I’ve seen colleagues — often intelligent, well-intentioned, committed teachers — get themselves tangled up in what is, in essence, one of the most persistent (and, if I’m honest, most sterile) debates in language education: lexicogrammar versus traditional grammar instruction.

You know the script, don’t you? One camp is presented as enlightened, modern, acquisition-friendly, almost morally superior; the other as old-fashioned, rule-obsessed, joyless, and probably responsible for everything that has ever gone wrong in language teaching since the dawn of time! And every time I hear this framing, I find myself thinking: ma perché? Why are we still doing this to ourselves?

Because the truth — and it’s a truth we’d all be better off accepting — is that these two approaches are not enemies at all. They are simply two different lenses through which we observe the same linguistic system. Used intelligently, and at the right moment, they do very different jobs, and both jobs matter.

What traditional grammar instruction is really about (and why I haven’t thrown it out of the window)

Traditional grammar instruction, at its core, treats language as a rule-governed system: something that can be described, categorised, labelled, and explained, preferably with neat headings and reassuring terminology.It focuses on things like:

• parts of speech
• verb tenses and conjugations
• agreement rules
• sentence structure
• accuracy and error correction

In real classrooms — real ones, not the imaginary ones in methodology books — this usually looks like:

• explicit explanations (“The imperfect is used for habitual actions…”)
• verb tables (lots of them…)
• controlled gap-fills
• error-spotting tasks
• long stretches of metalanguage
• translation tasks

Now, let me say this very clearly, because it matters: there is nothing inherently wrong with this. In fact, traditional grammar instruction does some things extremely well. It:

• gives learners clarity and labels
• supports accuracy, especially in writing
• helps with exam performance
• appeals to analytical learners
• gives teachers the feeling that they have…done their duty!

I’ve seen this countless times. I’ve worked with pupils — and adults, for that matter — who needed that clarity, who felt calmer once something had been named, boxed, explained. So no, grammar is not the villain of the piece.

The problem only starts when grammar becomes the starting point (!), rather than what it should be: a supporting tool.

Because we have all met them, haven’t we? The students who can explain a rule beautifully, recite it almost poetically, apply it flawlessly in a written exercise… and then collapse entirely when asked to process the same structure in listening, or produce it spontaneously in speaking. They understand how the engine works, yes — but they’ve barely driven the car, let alone taken it on the motorway. In other words, they have develop Declarative Knowledge of the target grammar structure but have not built the Procedural knowledge required in the real world, the one that makes fluent retrieval possible in the streets of Paris, Berlin, Rome or Madrid.

What lexicogrammar is about (and why it feels so much closer to reality)

Lexicogrammar starts from a different assumption — one that, to me at least, feels far more psychologically plausible — namely that grammar and vocabulary are not separable, and that language is processed primarily as patterns and chunks, not as isolated rules waiting to be memorised. From this perspective:

• meaning drives form
• words come bundled with grammar
• frequency matters enormously
• grammar emerges from repeated exposure to patterned input

So instead of solemnly announcing that today, class, we are learning the present tense, learners simply meet:

• je joue au foot
• je vais au cinéma
• je fais du sport

Instead of dissecting “because + clause”, they repeatedly encounter:

• parce que c’est amusant
• parce que c’est trop cher

Instead of a formal lecture on “the imperfect”, they live with:

• quand j’étais petit…
• il y avait beaucoup de…

And here’s the thing — and anyone who has actually watched learners process language will recognise this — this is how acquisition really happens. Lexicogrammar:

• reduces cognitive load
• supports fluency
• builds automaticity
• feeds listening and speaking directly

I’ve seen this play out so many times in my own classrooms and workshops that it would be dishonest to pretend otherwise. Learners use language earlier, more confidently, and with far less visible strain. But — and this is important — left entirely unchecked, lexicogrammar can also lead to problems, as accuracy can plateau, editing skills can remain weak and high-stakes writing and exams can expose gaps that intuition alone doesn’t fix.

The real difference — and the false opposition that refuses to die

So what is the real contrast here? It’s not “grammar versus lexicogrammar”, despite how tempting that slogan might be. In my view, it is:

• rule → example versus example → pattern
• form-led teaching versus meaning-led teaching
• declarative knowledge versus procedural knowledge

Traditional grammar explains correctness whilst lexicogrammar enables use. Both matter — but not at the same moment. And this, I would argue, is where so much of the confusion comes from!

Where grammar and lexicogrammar intersect: pattern awareness

This, for me, is the crucial point, the hinge on which the whole debate turns.

Good lexicogrammar teaching:

• floods learners with high-frequency patterns
• makes those patterns noticeable
• recycles them relentlessly
• builds intuitive familiarity

Good grammar instruction:

• names patterns learners already recognise
• explains contrasts they’ve already experienced
• sharpens accuracy once meaning is secure

In other words — and I cannot stress this enough — grammar works best when it explains what learners have already partially acquired.

I’ve seen this so clearly with structures like il y a and il n’y a pas de. If learners have met these dozens of times in listening and reading, a later explanation of existential structures and negation doesn’t feel abstract, theoretical, or painful. It feels clarifying. Almost relieving.

That is the intersection point which I have witnessed time and again throughout my career.

Lexicogrammar vs traditional grammar: a functional comparison

Dimension	Lexicogrammar	Traditional grammar
Starting point	Meaningful examples	Abstract rules
Teaching sequence	Example → pattern	Rule → example
Unit of learning	Chunks and constructions	Individual forms
Cognitive load	Lower (pattern recognition)	Higher (rule processing)
Primary knowledge type	Procedural	Declarative
Best supports	Listening, speaking, early writing	Editing, accuracy, exams
Risk if overused	Accuracy plateau	Inert knowledge

Where EPI fits in: doing both, deliberately (and unapologetically)

This is precisely where Extensive Processing Instruction (EPI) sits — and why it is so often misunderstood, sometimes caricatured, and occasionally dismissed by people who, I suspect, haven’t really looked at it closely.

Let’s be clear: EPI is not anti-grammar. It is anti PREMATURE grammar.

How EPI handles lexicogrammar

EPI starts where acquisition actually starts — not where tradition says it should start:

• high-frequency chunks
• narrow, carefully controlled input
• repeated processing of the same structures
• listening and reading as the engine of learning

Learners don’t “learn the imperfect”. They process:

• il y avait…
• quand j’étais petit…
• c’était…

They don’t “learn negation”. They process:

• je n’aime pas…
• il n’y a pas de…

Grammar is embedded, unavoidable, and meaningful — but never shoved to the front before the system is ready. I’ve watched pupils who had “done the imperfect” three times before suddenly get it — not because of a better explanation, but because the input finally made sense.

How EPI handles grammar instruction

And here’s the bit that often gets conveniently ignored: EPI does not stop there.

Once patterns are:

• familiar
• automatised
• meaning-secure

EPI introduces explicit grammar instruction as:

• a noticing tool
• a refining tool
• a precision tool

At that point — and only at that point — explanations stick. They make sense. They actually improve output. I’ve seen learners nod, not because they’re being polite, but because something has genuinely clicked.

This is grammar from language, not grammar before language.

Why EPI works: research-rooted advantages

EPI advantage	Rationale	Research source
Reduced cognitive load	Learners process meaning before form, avoiding working-memory overload	Sweller; VanPatten
Faster automatisation	Repeated exposure to the same structures builds procedural memory	DeKeyser; Segalowitz
Improved listening accuracy	Input forces form–meaning connections	VanPatten
Better long-term retention	High-frequency recycling strengthens memory traces	Nation; Ellis
More reliable transfer to output	Grammar explanations follow partial acquisition	DeKeyser; Hulstijn
Higher learner confidence	Early comprehension success lowers affective filter	Krashen; Dörnyei

Why this matters in real classrooms (not just in theory)

From a cognitive perspective:

• lexicogrammar builds fluency
• grammar instruction supports monitoring and accuracy

From an acquisition perspective:

• rules do not create acquisition
• they accelerate and stabilise it when the system is ready

From a classroom perspective:

• lexicogrammar powers listening and speaking
• grammar instruction underpins writing and exams

And yes, I’ve seen all of this play out — messily, imperfectly, gloriously — in real classrooms, with real learners, under real constraints.

A sane conclusion (finally!)

The most effective language teaching is not about choosing sides, planting flags, or defending dogmas. It:

• starts with rich, patterned input
• builds lexicogrammatical chunks
• delays explanation until it is useful
• uses grammar as a tool, not as the curriculum

Or, put bluntly (because sometimes blunt is best):

Grammar taught too early is noise.
Grammar taught too late is a missed opportunity
Grammar taught at the right moment is TRANSFORMATIVE.

That balance — deliberate, principled, learner-centred — is where real progress happens.

My two pennies.