The Economist article whose first sentence I quoted in this post about inverting subject and verb in dialog reporting frames ends with a textbook example of a very different kind of inversion:
Harder still than understanding the significance of such barbarism may be accepting that it can never be completely prevented.
This is a case of what The Cambridge Grammar of the English Language (p.1385) calls subject-dependent inversion. It involves switching places between the subject of a main clause and some dependent from within the verb phrase (often a complement of the copula). In the above example, the subject is the subjectless gerund-participial clause accepting that it can never be completely prevented. The adjective phrase harder still than understanding the significance of such barbarism is a predicative complement licensed by the copular verb be. They have been switched. The most straightforward order of constituents would have been this:
Accepting that it can never be completely prevented may be harder still than understanding the significance of such barbarism.
The inverted version that The Economist published could be criticized on the grounds that the sequence may be accepting could easily be misparsed as an instance of may followed by the progressive aspect form of accepting (as in something like It seems that they may be accepting my article).
The writer chose the construction in order to mention the thing that claimed to be hardest only at the very end, to make it the last phrase in the article. So, as journalists often do, he or she (Economist articles are normally anonymous) chose to use subject-dependent inversion.
There's nothing grammatically wrong with it. But it has been ridiculed, rather brilliantly: as Ben Zimmer pointed out (on Language Log three years ago), Wolcott Gibbs did a wonderful piece in (yes) The New Yorker, back in in 1936, mocking the over-use of subject-dependent inversion and other elements of journalistic style in Time magazine under the editorial regime of Henry Luce.
"Backward ran sentences until reeled the mind," wrote Gibbs; "Where it all will end, knows God!"
Gibbs was exaggerating a little. But as you see, only a little. Journalists really do write sentences sort of backwards sometimes. And slightly harder than describing what they do is explaining why they do it.