The "Impact" department is a set of English-grammar questions we built on english.passed.jp. It uses impossible English sentences, like "my husband was killed by a giant anteater," as memory anchors, and ties grammar rules to them. This article is the makers' own account of the design intent, the implementation, and what still isn't done.
English grammar is boring. You can be told "the be-verb agrees with the subject" a hundred times and still not remember it. But once you've read "my husband was killed by a giant anteater," you can't forget it. This department is an experiment in using that unforgettableness, whole, for learning grammar.
Knowledge learned from a bland example sentence vanishes overnight. So we strap it to the back of a giant anteater and let you carry it home. The design philosophy is written with heat, the implementation concretely, and "what isn't done yet" without hiding anything.
Why do impossible English sentences make grammar stick?
Because people strongly remember information that moved them emotionally. Surprise, laughter, eeriness: any of them will do. Information with an emotional hook gets carved deeper than flat information. We repurposed this simple fact about cognition for grammar.
My husband and I are in danger because of a giant anteater.
Anyone who solves this sentence learns the rule: "my husband and I" is a plural subject, so the be-verb is are. And they learn it together with the impact of the giant anteater. Later, when they meet a plural subject in a completely different problem, they recall: "this is the same as that anteater one. It's are."
That is transfer learning: pulling knowledge learned in one scene and using it in another. With a bland example like "They are students.", the recall hook is weak. You understood it the moment you learned it, but when you reach for it later there's nothing to grab. An impossible sentence builds that grip excessively strong. The heavier the anchor, the easier it is to haul back up.
Here are real examples of the material.
- The giant anteater (be-verb): the source is a quirky line from a Nigerian scam email, "my husband was killed by a giant anteater." We tie the be-verb of a plural subject to that one sentence.
- The meat dress (passive be made of): the source is the time a certain artist wore a dress of real raw meat to an awards show. "That dress is made of meat = be made of" gets learned together with that bizarre image.
In both, the "wait, that's a thing?!" surprise comes first, and the grammar follows. Reverse the order, explaining the grammar first and attaching the example afterward, and it falls back into rote memorization. Impact first, grammar second. That order is the backbone of this department.
Why we designed the experience in three layers: from clickbait headline to retention
So that the impact holds across all three layers: the clickbait headline, the problem body, and the sourced trivia. If even one layer is bland, the experience cools partway through.
We split how a single question moves through the reader into these three layers.
- The clickbait headline in the list. On the problem-list page, a headline like "her husband was killed by a giant anteater…?!" invites the click. This is where we ignite the reader's curiosity. They want to know what's inside and can't help but tap; that impulse is the first strike.
- The problem body. Beyond the tap, the giant anteater actually shows up. If the headline baits and the body is bland, the reader feels let down and leaves. So we keep the impact in the body and slip the surprise in again at the moment of solving. In the instant they pick the be-verb, the anteater image stays in their head.
- The sourced trivia. After the answer, we add a sourced tidbit: "actually, this scam email is called a '419 scam'…" The reader carries home not just the grammar but a little something they'll want to tell someone. This is where the bridge from remember to tell gets built.
Ignite with the headline, surprise in the body, add depth with the trivia. When the three connect cleanly, the reader leaves holding "that was fun" and "I remember it" at the same time. Keeping the impact alive across all three layers is what we're most careful about.
We also designed the entrance for sharing. If the answer is visible in a social-media card preview, the fun is spoiled. So the card's meta information shows the clickbait headline and hides the answer. It stops at "my husband and I are in danger because of an anteater… so, what's the be-verb?" We deliberately leave that snag, tapping because you're curious, built into the structure.
Fun is no excuse to distort the facts
Impact carries reach, and if something with reach is wrong, the error spreads with it. So fun and accuracy aren't a trade-off where you give up one; we built them into the design as a constraint that satisfies both at once.
The harder you aim for impact, the easier it is to tip into exaggeration and assertion. "If it makes it fun, surely it's fine to embellish a little." That temptation is always there. We put up a fence against it. Fun is no excuse to distort the facts.
These are the rules we hold to.
- Trivia always comes with a source. We list the URLs of primary information so readers can verify it themselves. Source links are set with rel=nofollow.
- We avoid flat assertions. For claims without solid proof, we add "there's a theory that…" and don't declare it.
- We don't generalize about races or nationalities.
- Even with scam-email material, we never write in a way that demeans a specific group. We keep to the fun of the "quirky mistranslation" phenomenon itself.
Why be this careful? Because the more a medium pulls people in with fun, the faster inaccuracy spreads through it. Fun, and also correct. If we can't hold both fronts, we don't ship that question.
How adding one YAML block adds a whole question
We hold question data as vertically-arranged YAML, one block per question, and generate the URL, structured data, and sitemap from it automatically. All the creator does is write a block in YAML.
From here on, it's implementation. However fine the design philosophy, if adding a question is painful, production stops. So we poured our engineering into making the act of adding a question as light as possible.
Question data is vertical YAML, one block per question. Adding a question means writing one block in a YAML file; we don't touch a single line of code. With horizontally-held CSV, every new field means adding a column and fixing the parser. With vertical YAML, you just add the key to the block. The shape of the data decides how light production is.
Proper nouns, URLs, and numbers are written in exactly one place (SSOT = Single Source of Truth). Even the slug of the flagship department lives in one place in a config file. We never write the same value twice; change one place and it reflects everywhere. This pays off more as questions grow. It structurally crushes the accident where an old value lingers in one of a hundred questions.
Each question has a fixed URL (for example, /topic/impossible-english/q/anteater-danger) and outputs Quiz structured data (JSON-LD). Search engines correctly understand "this is a quiz" and show it richly in results. Add a question, and it goes onto the sitemap automatically. Add one block of data, and the URL, the structured data, and the sitemap all come along.
We also built the navigation flow into the data structure.
- Department hub (
/topic/impossible-english/): the catch-basin that aggregates the Impact department's questions. - Cross hub (a form like
/topic/impossible-english/passive-voice/): the intersection of "Impact department × passive voice," where department and grammar cross.
Creating the flow "on to another question with the same grammar" opens a path: anchor (the impossible sentence) → the existing question set → retention. It isn't "solve one and you're done"; your hand reaches for the next question.
Question-making itself is a standard procedure: decide the material → verify the facts → generate the question → add it to YAML → audit it. We formalized the process and also have a mechanism for drafting multiple materials in parallel. The human nose for choosing material is kept clearly separate from the mechanized production that follows. The nose stays in human hands; the volume goes to the mechanism.
What isn't done yet (honest limits)
The number of questions is still small, and choosing material relies on the human nose. A mechanism that can withstand volume production and volume production actually running are two different things.
As a build-in-public record, here is what isn't done.
First, there are still few questions. We built the mechanism so that "add data and they grow," but the crucial substance, material that is both fun and accurate, isn't there in sufficient quantity yet. Right now, a shelf that just opened holds only a handful of questions.
Second, choosing material relies on the human nose. The judgment "this has impact" or "this works as a grammar hook" can't be automated for now. What can be mass-produced mechanically is only the production process after the material is decided. The first step, what to use as material, a person picks one by one. This is the bottleneck, and at the same time the last fortress guarding the department's quality. Whether the nose should be, or even can be, replaced by a mechanism is a question with no answer yet.
Honestly, this is a department where the concept leads and the implementation and track record are chasing it. Even so, the backbone of the design has been set from the start and hasn't wavered: impact first, accuracy protected by sources, growth by just adding data.
Our aim: you touch it because it's fun, you remember it because you touched it
What we want to build is something beyond an English-learning site. Impactful questions are the hook for sharing; the department hub catches the people who come through it and carries them to retention.
An impactful question becomes the hook for sharing. It gets shared on social media as "look at this," and companies and media want to feature it as "what a fun way to use it." The people who arrive through that hook are caught by the department hub. Hook them in, let them roam the hub, carry them to retention. That's the flow.
In the future, collaboration questions with beverage or confectionery makers can go in too. On this data structure, they line up in the department by adding a single question. Cast a flagship product into an impactful sentence and make it a grammar anchor. We left that expansion open in the structure from the start.
And the most important chain is this.
You touch it because it's fun. You remember it because you touched it. You tell someone because you remember it. It spreads because you told someone. The first strike in that chain is the impossible English sentence. Make them tap with a headline they can't resist, carve the grammar in with the surprise, and send them back with a piece of trivia they'll want to tell. We swap the starting point of this chain from rote memorization to an unforgettable sentence. That is the whole of this department.
FAQ
Q. What is the "Impact" department? A. A set of English-grammar questions on english.passed.jp. It uses impossible English sentences like "my husband was killed by a giant anteater" as memory anchors for grammar rules.
Q. Is the trivia accurate? A. Every piece of trivia comes with primary-source URLs, unproven claims are written as "there's a theory that…" rather than declared, and we don't generalize about races or nationalities. We ship only questions that are fun and also correct.
Q. How are questions added? A. Through a standard procedure: decide the material → verify the facts → generate the question → add it to YAML → audit it. One YAML block brings its fixed URL, structured data, and sitemap entry automatically. That said, there are still few questions, and a person picks each material by hand.
If you'd like to try memorizing English grammar by strapping it to the back of a giant anteater, take a peek at english.passed.jp.
