Bitter experience increased my family's antipathy to the passive voice. My father had spent five years writing a book which was to be his magnum opus, and which did indeed establish him as a leading figure in his field. He and the publisher agreed that the book would be set directly to page proofs, an economising measure that would normally reduce the publisher's costs, provided that few corrections were required.
The publisher assigned the book to a rookie copy editor who, following the house style guide to the letter, changed the entire work into the passive voice. My father prided himself on his careful, vivid writing style, favoring the active voice; it contrasted with the usual deadly dull material churned out by academics.
He had no inkling of the massive changes until the exciting day the page proofs arrived. You can imagine his heartbreak as he read page after page of the mangled book. The publisher agreed to make the thousands of changes required to return the book to its original style, but he and the family had to go through the entire thing and write every single change into the page proofs. He was convinced that the book was never completely fixed.