How do you feel? 

This is perhaps an observation that could have been made sixty years ago, but it's one of those things that, the longer it goes on, the more stark the phenomenon. This is the practice -- amongst British journalists, including especially sports journalists -- of asking a person -- the winner of a cup, a witness of some dramatic geopolitical event, or one who has just seen their house swept away in a flood -- 'How do you feel?'  Not what do you think, what is your reaction, but how do you feel? Not quite as if one might respond with 'Oh, an odd tingling between the shoulder blades', but almost. I am quite certain that the British journalist is aware at least subliminally of the British reputation for having a stiff upper lip, of being made uncomfortable at any feelings being on display, and is anxious to show that that reputation is quite unwarranted. I think that it is the Americans as well as the British public who are chiefly in the journalist's thoughts, not the Europeans. Americans have this reputation here for being free with their feelings, of letting it all hang out (think of Little Richard, Janis Joplin, etc.), and the British, however wrongly, do feel inferior on that subject. This is connected with that peculiar way, when an interviewee begins to be overcome with emotion; the jackpot being when they actually break down in tears, and the interviewer goes silent, the camera zooms in. You know it's a case of high-fives all round amongst the production team.  

Trump 

A stratagem that our fearsome leader often employs, and is not called out as often as one would like, is for example this: 

He told reporters on Air Force One on Sunday evening, referring to the attack that killed 34 and injured at least 117 people: "I think it was terrible and I was told they made a mistake, but I think it's a horrible thing. I think the whole war is a horrible thing”. 

It was of course that latest Russian bombing of a Ukranian city, replete with obliterated children and disemboweled old ladies, which Trump avers was just a mistake, an honest mistake, could have happened to anyone. Then he adds 'I think the whole war is a horrible thing'. Not a crime, or even an injustice. Just a horrible thing, so many people died, a shame that it happened. Why? He certainly does not want to assign blame to his overlord, Vladmir Putin. Indeed he wants to see Putin successful; but he knows that this is not the view of anyone outside of Russia. Also he has designs on Ukranean minerals however flighty, as well as being loathe to cross Putin in general (perhaps for reasons connected with Golden Showers). So he feints: He stresses how 'horrible' the bombing was (his voice rising) gambling that that momentary show of feeling with the mainstream will be enough, that the conversation will move on to other topics. 

Like is Out, Yeah is In.

 'Like' on the way out. 'Like: __' was often used, for example, as a device of indirect quotation, where the quoted material is first-person, and one acts out the speech expressing what one thought or felt on the occasion. "Like: 'What is this guy doing?'"; "Like: 'I was all woo-woo", you know?'. 

At around the same time, 'Yeah!' has come in, or rather has come to play a new role. In this usage, it is not a response to the interlocutor's statement or question, but occurs within one's overall speech, mostly but not entirely as a space-filler, between sentences. It is used among other things to announce a change of topic, or just to sustain a positive vibe while keeping the floor -- to decide either on the next topic, or to keep on with the present one. Often it signals that the next utterance will sum up the previous ones. 

While I'm at it, the use of the term 'obviously' -- in this role it has been around a while -- is interesting (alternative: 'Clearly ...'). I hear it as: 'What I'm about to say perhaps goes without saying, but nevertheless I say it just to be absolutely sure there is no misunderstanding, and it's worth saying for the sake of what I'm going to say after, even if in saying it I might accused of talking down to you.'  

Invertebrate and Inveterate, Incredible and Incredulous, Prelude and Predicate

My diagnosis of (one aspect of) changes in language runs as follows. A relatively common word is in use (say 'outrageous', 'uninterested', or 'deny') and another relatively rare word that expresses a different, typically more complicated meaning, which often sounds similar to the first one (say 'egregious',  'disinterested', or 'refute'). Perhaps imagining a certain show of erudition, people begin to use the latter word for the former, not being aware that the latter does not mean the same as the former. But then, if the virus spreads sufficiently, it does mean the former. So to speak. (I've discussed those particular examples previously; the links are on the upper right). 

So three newish examples. The first fits the pattern to a T. I've heard it before, but here is a recent, public example from the teevee. Victoria MacDonald of Channel Four News used 'incredulous' for 'incredible' (or 'really incredible!'), saying 'It was really incredulous.'  But of course -- assuming the old meaning -- strictly speaking, that is ungrammatical nonsense:  You can say x finds the thing incredible, but not that x finds the thing incredulous. What does make sense is that x is incredulous at the thing. The incredible thing vs. the incredulous person (in linguistics, you can say the agent and patient roles are reversed).  The second doesn't fit the pattern, but fits it as it were in reverse.  Twice now I have heard 'invertebrate' being used where surely what was meant was 'inveterate'. Now all people know the word 'invertebrate', and very few really know the word 'inveterate'. My diagnosis is that the person is vaguely aware that there is such word, but can't quite recall it, and the only word they know that approximates it is 'invertebrate'. If anything 'inveterate' connotes unchanging rigidity where 'invertebrate' connotes lassitude, but there it is.

The third example is closer. A person is speaking about a man preparing a group for the main event, and intends something like 'prelude', or 'preface', or perhaps 'preliminary', but says 'He laid down a predicate for the event'. 

Tiny Things

Some minor malfunctions I've witnessed (some recently): 

one in the same for one and the same

I could care less for I couldn't care less (this has been around for a long time, I think)

intensive purposes for intents and purposes 

nip in the butt for nip in the bud (!) 

could of for could have (perhaps this too has been with us for long time)

deep seeded resentment for deep seated resentment (this is favourite of mine) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Generalisation, Holding Beliefs, Single Persons, and Winning

Another Dodge: The Particular to the General

This is another one which I'm surprised isn't recognized and called out by Nick Robinson and his R4 cohorts more often.  A presenter is interviewing some Tory bigwig, asking for a response to a EDL rally which descended into a fracas. 'Let me be clear: No violence should be tolerated', says the Tory. What's wrong with that? Who would deny it? The problem is that implicit in the initial line of questioning is that there is a particular problem with the EDL--that perhaps they should be disbanded or steps should taken against its leaders, or something, and one might think that the Tories in particular are likely to bear a certain responsibility. And of course many EDL members or sympathisers do vote Tory; the Tory is leery of offending them. The Tory responds to the question by generalising the issue, thereby diverting the questioner from a particular sore point. (It's a bit like 'What aboutism'.) In the cut-and-thrust atmosphere of a R4 interview, the necessary time and effort required to pursue that issue may be too great, as well the Tory knows. 

Holding Cognitive States

One has emotions. One has beliefs. But sometimes people speak of 'holding' emotions, of 'holding' beliefs. If find this a little strange. I can't help but think that implies that the action is more voluntary than it can possibly be, perhaps with a bit of irrationality mixed in. 'He holds the belief that she is faithful to him', as if the belief were like a dog whose leash one holds, or like a suspect one holds in a jail cell. What can be 'held' is perhaps a slogan, a form of words; one can decide stick to the words even if one has doubts. For emotions, is there an equivalent way of excuse? Maybe: maybe we can speak of a man as 'clinging' to his sadness, as 'holding on' to his sadness, when it is unhealthy to be sad for so long. We say: Snap out of it!  

Families

Keir Starmer, Rishi Sunak and others don't speak so much of ordinary people and their financial struggles (with inflation, taxes, etc.), preferring to speak of the plight of 'families'.  What of the many people who live alone? There are I believe nine million such people. Many of them, they would do well to reflect, not only pay taxes etc., but vote. 

Winning the t -- d 

We speak of 'winning the thread', when some commenter in social media or a chatroom makes an especially perceptive, and typically witty post, one that can't be topped. But all of a sudden, people now speak of 'winning the trend'. I can't help but think that this got started through mis-reading or mis-hearing the earlier 'winning the thread', and for some reason it caught on. If that's what happened, then the phenomenon is not so dire as what happened with 'refute' or 'disinterest', but still it is retrograde, for unlike the straightforward 'thread', it is a little hazy what 'trend' means here. 

Calvin Talk

A Tory politician spoke of some bit of mild malfeasance as an occasion when 'Learnings' were to be had. This the reverse of Calvin's Verbing Nouns: it's a case of Nouning Verbs. A somewhat related case. a somewhat odd case, comes from of all people Richie Sunak, who spoke of his policy giving the green light to oil extraction as being 'pragmaticker' in comparison with the alternative. This is a case of making a preposition out of an adjective, or a relation out of a property. 

A Familiar Dodge

The tendency amongst the great & the powerful is very familiar -- but nonetheless maddening -- of reacting to having been caught in an act of serious impropriety with 'We got it wrong!', 'Mistakes were made! etc. The interviewee admits wrongdoing, but counts on the ambiguity created in the interviewer's mind -- an ambiguity between mere mistakes, like missing a three-inch putt in golf, and acts for the which criticism would be much graver, would be moral -- and hopes the conversation will move on. It almost always does. Is there a journalist who makes a habit of stopping the interviewee and asking if the wrongness were of ethics rather than mere skill? A fraudster who says 'I got it wrong!' is not genuinely admitting the nature of his crime. Perhaps Nick Robinson, Andrew Neil or James O'Brien calls this out.

A recent example from the US of A: 

Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas reported three 2022 trips on the private jet of a Texas billionaire in a financial disclosure form released Thursday, and for the first time detailed the businessman’s purchase of three properties from the justice’s family years earlier,” the Washington Post reports.

Thomas also acknowledged 'mistakes' in past reports, involving bank accounts, a life insurance policy and the name of his wife’s real estate company.

This is related to the famous 'Non-apology apology'.  Not 'I'm sorry', but 'If you took offense then I'm sorry'. or 'I'm sorry for any offense I caused'; often with the tacit or implied sub-text, 'But I didn't mean it'. One says 'sorry' only in the sense of being sorry at the situation in Afghanistan, not of acknowledging any personal responsibility. Indeed it is not an apology, but only a conditional apology, which in my book is not, not even where the condition is satisfied, an apology at all.  It often borders on 'victim blaming': [unspoken] 'If you looked upon my actions as racist/bullying/whatever, the fault lies with your perception, mate'. 

Over and Under

It is difficult to underplay the seriousness of the charges leveled at him. (Andrew Buncombe)

Ordinarily, to get mixed up when employing such forms of speech is eminently forgivable, but not when you're a journalist, for Pete's sake!  

This sort of thing is not far from saying 'I could care less', 'could of', or 'intensive purposes'. 

 

May and May Not. 

This has been around for a long time, or rather has been bothering me for a long time (I'm sensitive). When the speaker is a tiny bit nervous perhaps, they'll say something like: "The client may or may not choose the expensive option".  There is no reason to say "or may not". To say "The client may choose the expensive option" obviously (conversationally) implies that the client is not being forced to choose the expensive option.  In the example that I'm thinking of, she is at least subliminally aware of this; there was a little micro-pause between the first 'may' and the phrase 'or may not'; i.e.:  "The client may ... or may not .. choose the expensive option".  

Going Forward in Future

Two related things that have me scratching me head. 

(1) One is the use of 'going forward' to announce that the phrase about to be stated is to be understood as pertaining to the future.  But this is the job of the future tense! Which such people in such cases do use; they're not so grammatically benighted as to lose their sense of tense. It's another case of mere verbal clutter. If they dispensed with 'going forward', their message would no less clear. 

(2) In Britain it's common to speak of 'in future' rather than 'in the future'.  It seems not to be associated with class, age, or region. You hear it all over the place (north, south, east and west).  It isn't obligatory in British English; one hears plenty of 'in the future's.  But why 'in future'?  No one speaks of 'in past'. 

Politicians Speak 97

Four linguistic tricks/maneuvers that are popular amongst politicians, some of which you're no doubt familiar with. 

1. 'We injected a record x pounds ...'.  I'm surprised they aren't called out on this more often. It is rather easy to make such claims, as the population is always increasing and inflation is always happening (except in unusual circumstances).  So naturally this will in general be true, be it funds for water, for the railroads, for disabled kids, etc., even if the real spending per head inches down.   

2. Another one that seems to slip by unremarked, thus securing its effectiveness.  'We got that wrong'. said Dominic Raab on Partygate (the Morning Show, BBC 20/05/2022.) Compare this with 'We did something wrong'. The former implies no moral blame; it could just as well be said of an incorrect answer on The News Quiz, or a football substitution that didn't pan out. The latter suggests otherwise, suggests moral blameworthiness. But they are very similar, and Raab can reasonably hope that suspension between the two will occupy the listeners mind for just long enough for the conversation to move on. 

3. 'I'm not going to get into hypotheticals'.  Of course ... you know.  Maddening. Why don't journalists call them out more often? 'So you're not getting into "hypotheticals" ... so you would refuse to answer: "If the Queen were assaulted with a knife, would you intervene?"'.  'Ah, so you would answer? So it's not the case that you refuse to answer conditionals. So again I ask you ... ?'. Indeed the logician in me wants to say: 'Are all monkeys mammals? Yes? So you would agree that if something is a monkey, it is a mammal, right? So have we not got into hypotheticals, as you put it?'.

4.  'That's why we're ... '.  This is very common. A representative of the government is interviewed (Sunak, Rabb, Truss etc.).  It is put to them that such-and-such is a big problem, voters are worried, and why haven't you ... To which the answer is 'That's why we're (whatever action or money spent can plausibly be portrayed as directed to the problem; and there always is). That is, the government is already on top of it; it's got your back. They are mildly irritated that you should suppose otherwise. 'That's why ... why don't you journalists see?'. 

1. Nonsense vs. a nonsense. 

'Nonsense', in the first instance, pertains to the meaning of a phrase or a sentence; either it has sense (it makes sense), or it's nonsense (it makes no sense).  Either it is semantically, lexicographically and grammatically in order, or something is semantically, lexicographically or grammatically very wrong; it fails to express a coherent thought. 

'Nonsense' is an adjective, but one occasionally finds the use of the term as a noun, ie 'a nonsense' (I've come across this use even by Frank Ramsey!). 'A nonsense' implies that one can count nonsenses, which one might well resist.  Is it connected with the senses? I see an image of a blind man groping - that he can't find his way; that to say 'It's a nonsense' is roughly to say 'I see nothing with it', or 'One cannot use it to see anything'.  

There is also a use where what has been said succeeds in expressing a thought, but where the thought is egregiously false. Perhaps this use is connected with the first, in that if we have an example of nonsense (of this second variety), then no coherent case can be made for it. 

2. Paradoxes of Relativism. 

The central paradox being that it is self-defeating to proclaim that all is relative. Is it relative to say that all is relative? If it is not, then not all is relative; but if one proclaims that it is, one adopts a point of view from which it is not (there is one thing that one can say that is not relative, namely that all is relative). It is not actually a paradox, but it seems necessarily false.     

Frequently the 'paradox' is met with in lower grades, ones that are not in themselves self-contradictory.  Once in while it emerges with special poignancy. Boris Johnson recently announced a relaxation of the Covid-era rule that social isolation is mandatory if you have a positive test: It will no longer be enforced.

An interviewer:

What do you think of Boris's announcement? 

Interviewee: 

Well, for me, I'd say you should isolate. 

Does he mean 'I should isolate'? No. Something stronger.  Does he mean 'Everyone should isolate'? He would say he didn't mean that, either. The interviewee is struggling.

What is going on? Maybe people do believe that matters of morality are not, at all events, relative, but that it's uncool to say it.  It's uncool to play the preacher-man; one doesn't like the responsibility that the institution of morality demands. 

I connect the phenomenon with the newish habit, in writing, of ending certain declarative sentences with a question mark. People are hesitant to make assertions, to use outright declarative sentences, on certain topics. 

3. Possible Miswordings that might take off 

[Cancelled! I was WRONG! I'll leave up as penance]

 'Defenestration'

The word means removal of windows, especially if the removal is violent (notorious with the Protestant thugs of the 16th century). Dylan Byers obtained a recording of a CNN staff meeting with WarnerMedia CEO Jason Kilar, to explain the network’s sudden dismissal of Jeff Zucker:

It did not go well. The meeting, which I obtained a recording of last night, highlights the profound sense of loyalty that CNN’s on-air talent have toward their longtime leader, despite his violation of company policy, and the anger they feel regarding the circumstances of his sudden defenestration.

No comment. 

b. 'It's incredulous!' 

Though not often but I venture increasingly, the word is sometimes used for incredible, for a phenomenon (not a person, as is required by 'incredulous'). I've also heard of 'contemptuous' being said for 'contemptible'.  An example from an advertisement for a kitchen utensil: 

The Original Milk Frother has a $17 price tag, which isn’t bad at all considering it makes the most delicious foam and is far from Starbs’ incredulous prices for a simple cup of joe.

This is an attempt to compensate for being lexicographically ill-informed by making up new uses of words, that, though only to their fellow linguistic deficients at most, will seem learned, rather than as further confirmation of their deficiency.