Kel's previous Ozwords of the day...

---

Two times / twice Is the word ‘twice’ disappearing from modern English? Is it being replaced by the term ‘two times’? They are exact synonyms—so using one or the other does not change the meaning. I have encountered one website that claims there is a difference—that ‘twice’ always refers to succession while ‘two times’ refers to something which is countable. That’s completely idiotic. There is no such distinction. They mean exactly and precisely the same thing. ‘Twice’ is the older of the two expressions, coming from the days when the Anglo-Saxons spoke Old English more than a thousand years ago. ‘Two times’ is recorded from 1450 and comes from the cardinal number ‘two’ (which was rather more like ‘twain’ in Old English). Another claim being made these days is that ‘twice’ is seen as a formal word, and is used more often in writing, while ‘two times’ is more informal and is likely to found in conversation. Perhaps. But I’m sure this was not always the case. For some reason exact words such as ‘twice’ seem inclined to fade in our modern world, and be replaced by what strike me as more childish versions, such as ‘two times.’ Young children will understand, and say, ‘two times’ some years before they learn the word ‘twice’ (if they ever do). So to my (ancient) ears ‘two times’ sounds infantile, while ‘twice’ sounds adult. But things do seem to be changing—as the frequency of use figures tell us. The form ‘two times’ appears around one thousand times per million words in English, while ‘twice’ appears on average around thirty times per million words. The related word ‘thrice’ has suffered even more from this steady dumbing down of our society. ‘Thrice’ now only appears around once per million words. But I am convinced ‘twice’ was more common back in our grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ day. So, are you going to say, ‘I walk to the park twice a day’ or ‘I walk to the park two times a day’? In other words, are going to sound literate? Or illiterate?

Barrel With the oil crisis continuing it is clearly time to ask why oil measured in ‘barrels.’ The word ‘barrel’ came into English around 1300 from a French source word, with closely related words in Portuguese and Spanish and a medieval Latin word lurking somewhere in the background. ‘Barrel’ has always meant, from the beginning, what it means today—a cylindrical cask. But to be used as a measurement for oil these barrels must, we assume, be of a standard size—so how does that work out? Apparently the story is that in the early days of the American oil industry (mid 1800s) oil was produced in relatively small quantities, and it was often transported in wooden barrels. The use of barrels as a unit of measurement was largely a matter of convenience, as it allowed oil producers and traders to easily quantify their products. Eventually the need for standardization became important. In the late 1800s, the American Petroleum Institute was established, and one of its main goals was to standardize the measurement of oil. They defined a standard barrel as 42 US gallons, and this has remained the standard unit of measurement for oil to this day. Of course there are other complications. An American gallon is 128 fluid ounces, while a British gallon is 160 fluid ounces. From the days of Richard III a barrel of wine was defined as 42 ‘wine gallons’—and for some reason ‘wine gallons’ (128 fluid ounces) were less than ordinary water gallons (160 fluid ounces). In 1824 Britain standardized a gallon as being 20% larger than a ‘wine gallon’—which was then re-labelled a ‘US gallon’ (also known as a ‘short gallon’) because the Americans refused to follow suit. The result is that a barrel of oil contains 42 US gallons but only 35 British gallons. And I suspect I have told you more about barrels of oil than you ever wanted to know!

De-escalate In recent days both Anthony Albanese and Penny Wong have said their policy is that the Iran War should ‘de-escalate.’ Both have announced that their ambition is to see the battle in the Middle East ‘de-escalate.’ But what do they mean by that word? Do they even know what they mean? The word ‘de-escalate’ is recorded from 1964, as the negative form of the verb ‘to escalate’. That goes back to 1922, and it comes from the noun ‘escalator’—which (in turn) was coined by the Otis Elevator Company in 1900 as the trade-name for its newly invented moving staircase. By 1934 the verb ‘to escalate’ was being used in both business and military contexts to mean ‘to increase.’ And the word still means ‘to increase or be increased rapidly in scale or degree’ (Chambers English Dictionary). Hence, when ‘de-escalate’ finally appeared (in 1964) it meant ‘to decrease, to grow smaller.’ So, when Wong and Albanese call on the Iran War to be ‘decrease’ or ‘grow smaller’ what (exactly) to they mean? Are they saying that both sides should keep on firing missiles, but should fire slightly fewer missiles? Are the saying that both America and Israel can keep on attacking Iranian targets, but should attack fewer targets less often? Are they saying that Iran can keep attacking gulf states, but should attack fewer gulf states, and only occasionally? It looks as though Wong and Albanese are proposing a military tactic, but it’s not at all clear what military tactic they have in mind. Or are they simply using the English word ‘de-escalate’ in an empty and meaningless fashion to show that they are nice people who don’t like to see a war going on? Is their use of ‘de-escalate’ just being used by Wong and Albanese as signal of their niceness, with no real suggestion as to what should happen in the Middle East? Is ‘de-escalate’ the policy you have when you don’t have a policy?

Disinterested (follow up) A few days ago I wrote about the battle between ‘disinterested’ and ‘uninterested.’ Quick reminder: most educated people use ‘disinterested’ to mean ‘impartial’—having no vested interest (what a judge on the bench should be). If you say, ‘I have no dog in this fight’ or ‘I have no skin in this game’ you are being ‘disinterested.’ You may follow the battle with interest, but you are not cheering for one side or the other. On the other hand ‘uninterested’ has classically meant— ‘having no interest.’ If you don’t like watching formula one motor racing on TV then you are ‘uninterested’ (it just doesn’t interest you, in the way it interests the petrol heads!) But, as I also pointed out, when ‘disinterested’ came it English in the 1600s it had both meanings—both neutral and impartial and lacking any interest in the subject. So should we allow people to use ‘uninterested’ in the way which we were taught is wrong? The votes are in, and the votes have been counted. The vast majority of you believe we should stick to the old distinction. As one reader pointed out—having ‘disinterested’ and ‘uninterested’ having different meanings makes the English language a bit richer and more nuanced. And, yes, I agree. I can’t bring myself to use ‘uninterested’ when I am ‘not interested.’ I don’t think we should follow the masses. If we misuse ‘disinterested’ to all the educated people around us we will sound semi-literate—and we don’t want that! Two other thoughts. One reader (Brian) suggested that the current confusion is a good reason to ban both words from our vocabulary—if English language users are so muddled, then we should just drop the words and use the alternatives that our rich language provides. And another reader (Irene) says we only need to drop the vague and unhelpful word ‘uninterested’ and make it a rule to constantly use the verbal phrase ‘not interested’ instead. Problem solved! Thank you everyone!

Neo-idiocy Writing in The Australian newspaper Henry Ergas used the term ‘neo-idiocy.’ Now this is, I think, a fairly new, and still very rare expression. On its own ‘idiocy means: ‘(1) a foolish action or foolish behaviour; or (2) the state of being an idiot or extremely retarded mentally’ (Chambers Dictionary) or ‘extreme foolishness or stupidity’ (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). The prefix ‘neo-’ comes from Ancient Greek and means ‘new.’ So, what is this ‘new idiocy’ that’s being referred to? Henry Ergas is talking about the way the internet—and especially social media—has had the impact of undermining our democracy. If you are old enough to remember what things were like before the internet, you’ll remember political debates and discussions in which people tried to persuade each. They produced what they said was supporting evidence, and then argued in a logical and reasoned way to the conclusion they had reached. This is what seems to have disappeared—to be replaced by this ‘neo-idiocy.’ My own explanation is that people these days seem not to understand the difference between the two As—Assertion and Argument. Politics used to be something we had arguments about. Nowadays people don’t argue, don’t examine evidence, don’t consider logic—they shout assertions at each other. When Grace Tame (not a good example I know) shouts angrily ‘From Gadigal to Gaza globalize the intifada’ she is making an assertion. Now, she may have carefully thought-out arguments to support her angry shout—but, on the other hand, she may not. Many people who attend demonstrations appear to have little or no understanding—just simple-minded assertions. They shout, ‘From the river to the sea, Palestine shall be free’—but if you ask them, ‘Which river?’ and ‘Which sea?’ they have no idea. They are succumbed to the neo-idiocy of unthinking assertion. Globalizing the intifada means globalizing violence against Jews—which (sadly) has already happened (remember Bondi?) But if you abandon reasoned argument and have nothing but empty assertions you don’t understand this. You have fallen into the ‘neo-idiocy’ that pervades our society. Very sad.

Disinterested Marcia writes: ‘My husband said he offered to take the kids to the footy, but they were “disinterested.” Surely he should have said “uninterested.” What is your ruling on this?’ For many years I have been insisting that ‘disinterested’ means impartial, unbiased—in the way that a judge is impartial at a trial, having no vested interest in either party, keeping himself quite neutral. That, I have been saying, is what ‘disinterested’ really means. To say there is a lack of interest what you should say is ‘uninterested.’ That is the argument that I have been putting up for years. And the vast majority of educated people have agreed with me on this. But there is now a fly in that ointment. I have now learned that when ‘disinterested’ came into English in the 1600s it meant BOTH of those things—both ‘impartial and unbiased’ and also ‘uninterested, unconcerned.’ Over the centuries this distinction gradually eroded, and the word came to have only one meaning—the meaning that I have been defending for years. But in the 20th century the ‘uninterested’ meaning has been revived. Educated people still maintain that it is wrong—but given the history of the word, do we need now need to allow this? The Chambers Dictionary people have written this up in their delightful little book Terms to Make You Squirm. In their entry on ‘disinterest’ they tell the story that I have just told you. The conclusion they come to is that you are still better to stick to ‘uninterested’ for a lack of interest and ‘disinterested’ for impartial—simply because it’s what literate people now expect. But that seems to clash with the history of the word. So, now over you. What is your ruling? Have I got to stop insisting on restricting ‘disinterested’ to mean impartial? Do I have to allow that it sometimes means ‘uninterested’? You are the jury. What is your ruling?

Streisand effect This is a phrase that is not yet included formally and officially in any of the major dictionaries. However, the Collins English Dictionary has it listed in their collection of suggested new words. And here’s their definition of the ‘Streisand effect’: ‘an internet phenomenon whereby an attempt to hide information or an image etc results in the information becoming more widespread.’ This slightly bizarre effect (and phrase) arose because Barbra Streisand attempted to suppress the publication of a photograph of her hilltop home in Malibu. The photo was taken by Mike Masnik in 2003 as one of 12,000 California coastline photographs in a project that was attempted to draw the problem of coastal erosion to the attention of the Californian government. It was marked as ‘Image 3850’ and was labelled as ‘Streisand Estate, Malibu’ in an aerial photograph in which Streisand’s mansion was visible. (Of course the point of the photo was to show the coastal erosion below her house!) Streisand sued the photographer and publisher for $50 million. She lost the case and was ordered to pay legal fees of $177,000. Before her lawsuit the image had been viewed online six times. The publicity generated by the lawsuit meant that the image was viewed by more 420,000 people. That’s the ‘Streisand effect.’ In her autobiography (My Name is Barbra, 2023) Streisand wrote: ‘My issue was never with the photo ... it was only about the use of my name attached to the photo. I felt I was standing up for a principle, but in retrospect, it was a mistake. I also assumed that my lawyer had done exactly as I wished and simply asked them to take my name off the photo.’ But that’s how it works. Draw attention to something you don’t want people to notice—and whammo, they notice! Every time Anthony Albanese gave detailed reasons why there shouldn’t be a royal commission into the Bondi terrorist attack he was making it more and more certain that there would be a royal commission. He didn’t talk it down—he drew attention to it. That is the ‘Streisand effect.’ There are countless examples. You may remember the attempt by the British government to ban the publication of Peter Wright’s book Spycatcher (his memoirs of working for MI5). All that did was to attract attention and ensure the book was read and not forgotten. The ‘Streisand effect.’

Kick the can down the road There I was, relaxing one evening, when my phone burbled with a text. It was my distinguished editor at The Spectator Australia Rowan Dean with a question: ‘who first came up with the brilliant expression “kick the can down the road”?’ Rowan is right—it is a brilliant phrase that captures the sole political tactic of many or our esteemed leaders. As you probably know ‘kick the can down the road’ (or ‘down the street’—both versions exist) means ‘to delay dealing with a difficult situation.’ There are many methods of ‘kicking the can down the road’—ordering an inquiry (preferably a long, slow inquiry) or saying ‘we can’t consider this until after the budget’ are but two of many. It’s an American expression first recorded in 1984—in the United States Senate! (This phrase, with this meaning, has always lived in the world of politics!) The expression is recorded in the proceedings of the Senate from 1984—specifically in The First Concurrent Resolution on the Budget for the Fiscal Year 1984: Hearings before U.S. Senate Budget Committee: National Security. That’s a snappy title, isn’t it? Sounds like perfect bedtime reading. The immortal words were uttered by United States Airforce General David C. Jones (giving evidence to the senate) when he said: ‘The key question is whether we are going to face up to that problem today, or kick the can down the street.’ But for General Jones to have used ‘kick the can down the road / street’ without explanation (and without inverted commas in the official papers) must mean it was already well known, and part of the spoken language. The image behind the words is clear enough. When we were small boys it was fun to find an empty tin can (perhaps fallen out of a rubbish bin) and taking turns kicking it down the street as we walked along with our hands in our pockets yarning to each other. There was no goal and no purpose in our activity. It was just filled in a bit of time. Which is exactly what our political masterminds intend when they nod sagely, agree that the problem is serious, and find a way to ‘kick the can down the road’—there’s no goal, and no purpose, except to fill in some time. During which time they hope we’ll forget all about it. (But we won’t! We’ll remember it when we hold that pencil in our hand in the polling booth!)

Ineffable Kevin has written to ask me about the word ‘ineffable.’ He says that last Sunday in church they sang a hymn that contained this strange word ‘ineffable’ and it has left him puzzled. Can I help? He asks. Yes, I think I can. Quite possibly the hymn Kevin was singing was ‘Crown Him with Many Crowns’ the last verse of which goes like this:

Crown him the Lord of years,
the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres,
ineffably sublime.

There’s that word that bothers Kevin in the phrase ‘ineffably sublime.’ The basic answer is quite simple: ‘ineffable’ means ‘unable to be spoken; impossible to put into words; beyond ordinary human language.’ Here’s the official definition of ‘ineffable’ from the Oxford English Dictionary: ‘That which cannot be expressed or described in language; too great for words; transcending expression; unspeakable, unutterable, inexpressible.’ In other words, in this context, the hymn writer is saying that God is so sublime that he could never express it in mere words. This is (to state the obvious) an extremely rare word. In fact, in modern English it probably only exists because this old hymn keeps it alive. However, perhaps we could revive it and find a use for it? (More on that in a moment.) ‘Ineffable’ dates from around 1450 (so it’s also very old). It came into English from French, and behind the French is a Latin source word. More than that—there used to be the word ‘effable’ meaning ‘able to be spoken off; something you can put into words.’ Behind ‘effable’ is the Latin word effābilis which means ‘to utter’ or ‘to speak.’ And ‘ineffable’ is just the negative of ‘effable.’ That same verse of that same hymn contains the word ‘potentate’. This won’t bother most people, but in case it does, ‘potentate’ is just a fancy, Latin-based, word meaning ‘king.’ Now, could we use ‘ineffable’ today? Surely, with a bit of imagination, we could. We might, for instance, choose to say that our Climate and Energy Minister (thank you for the higher power bills!) Chris Bowen is ‘ineffably stupid’ (that is, ‘stupid beyond words’). I think that works, don’t you?

More silly slang Yesterday I shared a scattering of current silly slang terms—today a few more of these. Check out this list:

High Key—this yet another fairly obvious variation on a familiar expression. We’ve often called someone who is quiet and doesn’t push themselves forward as ‘low key’—which started in 1803 as a term used in photography, then over time it spread more widely. ‘High key’ is just the opposite—but would anyone understand what you meant if you said ‘High key’?

HMU—this is one of those initialisms that were first invented in text messaging, and have now made their way into emails. It stands for ‘hit me up’ and it means ‘make contact with me.’ I have to say that none of these supposedly clever initialisms impress me!

IJBOL—and this is another one. It stands for ‘I just burst out laughing.’ Would you be able to work that out just from the initials? That makes it very silly. This is an update on the earlie initialism LOL—Laugh Out Loud. (I love the story of the grandma who put this in her emails to her grandchildren because she thought it stood for Lots Of Love!)

IYKYL—and yet another one! This one is ‘If You Know You Know.’ It’s supposed to refer to common knowledge or share knowledge. But it always strikes me as a challenge to anyone who is not in the charmed circle, who doesn’t know. Because IYKTK also implies IYDKYDK meaning ‘if you don’t know, you don’t know—and I can’t help you, so there!’

Ick—this one is not new, and it means what we have always meant when we said that something was ‘ick’. But, apparently, it is very fashionable just at the moment. The Merriam-Webster people say: ‘Ick has been used in print as an interjection to express disgust at something unpleasant or offensive since at least the mid-20th century, and likely has been used in speech for much longer. Use of ick or the ick as a noun has been credited to an episode of the television show Ally McBeal that aired in 1998 in which the title character tells her friend that “Since he’s my boss I don’t want to go out with him just to get hit with the ick.”

Jit—according to the experts at the Merriam-Webster this is the trendy way to call a kid a kid—you don’t call that youngster a ‘child’ or a ‘kid’ you call them a ‘jit’ instead. Really? Not only is this a silly bit of slang, it’s a totally unnecessary one. The Merriam-Webster people say: ‘Online use of jit dates back to the early 2000s, though the term, which originated in African American English (specifically, by many accounts, in Florida), is much older.’

And that’s quite enough silliness for the time being. Tomorrow back to real words!

Silly slang Is it just me? Or is the slang that is being coined these days just getting sillier and sillier? The great American dictionary the Merriam-Webster has released another one of its occasional lists of current slang, and many of them strike me as being silly beyond words. Check out this list and see what you think:

Girl dinner—a light meal of snacks or easy-to-prepare foods. Use of girl dinner with this meaning is often attributed to a TikTok video posted in 2023 by Olivia Maher, in which she says the following about her meal of grapes, bread, cheese, and pickles: “This is my dinner. I call this ‘girl dinner’ or ‘medieval peasant dinner.’” But, of course, there is nothing ‘girl dinner about this—it’s just an easy meal or a snack meal.

Gish gallop—a debate strategy involving the overwhelming use of false arguments. Gish gallop was coined by American physical anthropologist Eugenie C. Scott in 1994, referencing a rhetorical strategy often employed by creationist Duane Gish in debates about evolution. This is a bit of slang that would be incoherent, simply puzzling, in Australia. But there are examples of it. When Chris Bowen says ‘renewable energy is the cheapest more reliable form of power’ (a false claim) before we can stop him to argue he says (‘And it can be backed up for batteries for peak periods’ (another false claim) and ‘the sun and wind come to us free’ (another false claim since it takes a huge amount of money to covert ‘free’ sun and wind into electrical power. He is running at a ‘Gish gallop.’

Glow up—transforming a person’s appearance, especially as regards to their age. Not very clever—just a mash up of ‘grow up’ and ‘glow.’ Why do they bother? 

Green flag—a signal of approval or encouragement. We have long use ‘red flag’ to mean a stop signal or a warning signal; this is just the reversal of (or alternative to) that. But really? Would you ever indicate your approval by saying ‘that’s a green flag’?

Grindset—this just means a workaholic; someone who is obsessed and determined and keeps on going. Again an obvious (if rather award) mash up of ‘mind set’ with ‘hard grind.’ It is just a puzzling and unhelpful way of saying something that could be put much more clearly.

Heffa—a young woman. This just a jokey spelling of ‘heifer’, the word for a young cow. Not very polite I would have thought; but the Merriam-Webster people say ‘a usually neutral and often playful term for a woman.’ Neutral? Playful? To call a woman a cow? I don’t think so! They go on to say: ‘The current slang use of heffa/heifer comes from, and is employed primarily in, African American English. In her 1994 book Black Talk: Words and Phrases from the Hood to the Amen Corner, Dr. Geneva Smitherman notes that heifer is “a reference to any female; used by males and females; a fairly neutral term.”’ Still looks dodgy to me!

A bit more silly slang tomorrow.

Populist wave Alexander Downer—former foreign minister and Liberal Party elder—said on Sky News on Saturday night that the South Australian Liberal Party has been devastated in that state’s election because they were caught up in a ‘populist wave.’ This, he said, had swept through America, Britain and parts of Europe and has now come to Australia. This means that Downer has fallen into the mistake of thinking that ‘populist’ means something bad. I have explained this before in these columns, but clearly I need to do so again—because some basic linguistic facts are just not getting through. Key fact— ‘populism’ does not mean something bad. The word ‘populism’ means ‘democracy’. Those two words are exact synonyms. The word ‘populist’ comes from the Latin word populus meaning ‘people’, while the word ‘democracy’ comes from the Greek word demos meaning (surprise! Surprise!) ‘people’. Both ‘populist’ and ‘democracy’ mean ‘the will of the people.’ Anyone who opposes ‘populism’ is opposed to democracy. So, has there been (as Downer claimed) a ‘populist wave’ (that is a ‘democratic wave’) sweeping through the western world? Probably. The Brexit referendum in the UK was the ordinary people telling the governing elite that they rejected them and their ideas. Here in Australia the Voice referendum was the same thing—the ordinary people telling the governing elite to do and get stuffed. The popular support for Donald Trump, Nigel Farage and Pauline Hanson is the great mass of ordinary people saying they won’t be dictated to by powerful elites. So there does seem to be such a ‘wave’ washing around the world. But it’s not a bad thing. It’s just democracy!

Hogan’s ghost!  We have often lamented the passing for some good old-fashioned Aussie slang terms. How about the word ‘cobber’? It means mate or friend, and I often heard it as a small boy—but today seems to have vanished completely. Worse than that, even the use of ‘mate’ is less common than it once was. And how about ‘bonza’ (or ‘bonzer’—both spellings are acceptable)? It too seems to be fading. All very sad. But this is how slang works. There are older Aussie slang terms that had died even before you and I were born. For example, slang expert Jonathan Green says that “Hogan’s ghost!” once was used as a general expression of amazement and is Australian in origin. The Australian National Dictionary records “Hogan’s ghost!” from 1930 – and adds that its origin is “unexplained.” (No, apparently it was not inspired by Paul Hogan--or Mick Dundee for that matter!) I do remember a parallel American expression: in the old Superman comics Perry White (editor of The Daily Planet) used to exclaim: “Great Caesar’s ghost!” in moments of exasperation. “Caesar’s ghost!” is recorded in the US from the mid-19th century as a “mild oath” and Australian author John O’Grady (in his 1977 autobiography There was a Kid) sees the two expressions as interchangeable. The Australian National Dictionary suggests that Hogan’s ghost! might possibly be a euphemism for “Holy ghost!” – making it a softened blasphemy. However, that doesn’t explain the parallel with “Great Caesar’s ghost!” So, I suggest that the Hogan’s ghost! version might have been inspired by a Banjo Paterson bush ballad called “The Road to Hogan’s Gap” – about a surprisingly dangerous place to travel om. The bush ballad tells the story of a bloke who wants to serve a writ on Hogan and is being given directions by a local to find Hogan’s place. According to the local, the track is rough and steep and littered with dead animals. Paterson writes: ‘It’s like that song “The Livin’ Dead” / Up there at Hogan’s Gap.’ And that might just have inspired the Hogan’s ghost! Australian variation on the earlier American expression. At any rate, it's a colourful old Aussie expression that has now vanished.

Islamophobia / Antisemitism Kevin asks: ‘Are “Islamophobia” and “Antisemitism” in the same category? Are they both just expressions of racism?’ My answer is: no Kevin, Islamophobia and Antisemitism are not in the same category. Antisemitism means the hatred of Jews—just because they are Jews! That is racism pure and simple. That is selecting out one race of people, the Jews, and choosing to hate and despise them. Antisemitism sometimes calls itself ‘Antizionism’ but it’s really the same thing.  It is the belief that one race, and only one race, of people have no right to a national homeland—in this case their ancestral homeland. This is a racist hatred that expresses itself in verbal or physical violence. When someone screams out, ‘Globalise the intifada’ it is often possible to see the hatred on their face and hear the hatred in their voice. Islamophobia on the other hand is a fear not a hatred (that’s what “phobia” means—it’s the psychologists’ word for fear). It is the fear of radical Islam because of what radical Islamists do. What they do is fly passenger airliners into skyscraper buildings and shoot to death innocent people at Bondi. Since 2001 radical Islamists have claimed responsibility for countless savage and lethal attacks around the world. They have explicitly done this in the name of radical Islam. Suicide bombers and mass murderers have, on many occasions, made this clear by screaming ‘Allahu Akbar’ (Arabic for ‘Allah is the greatest’) as they have slaughtered innocent bystanders. The fear of the actions of radical Islamists is not racism—it is rational thinking. Islamophobia is an entirely intelligent and ration response to the way our world is these days. I hope, Kevin, that answers your question.

Islamophobia A reader (Martyn) has asked me to re-visit the word ‘Islamophobia.’ He writes: ‘Etymologically I understand its meaning to be a fear of Islam. However, many people don’t fear Islam, but they dislike it. I wonder why we don’t provide an alternative term, using the ancient Greek prefix of ‘miso’ meaning hatred-e.g. misoislam? some may find that offensive, but we are happy to apply it to men who dislike women (misogyny), or women who dislike men (misandry)—so why not misoislam?’ Martyn’s new word is unlikely to catch on, but there is a problem with ‘Islamophobia’ isn’t there? The Oxford says that it means: ‘Intense dislike or fear of Islam, especially as a political force.’ And to dislike or fear the political intentions of Islamists makes perfect sense. Just a glance at the history of Iran since 1979 makes that clear. But the word ‘Islamophobia’ is still a badly formed word. And here’s the reason: all this group of words are modelled on ‘homophobia’ which is recorded from the 1960s to the name opposition to the promotion of homosexuality. That was a badly formed word, because it was based on the absurd notion that anyone who opposed the promotion of homosexuality must be afraid of homosexuality—when clearly Christianity (to take just one example) had been teaching for 2,000 years that homosexual behaviour is not part of God’ plan for his creation. So that word was badly formed. And every word using it as model is similarly badly formed. We must be allowed to be critical of Islamism with being labelled ‘Islamophobic’—that’s what matters. If every word of criticism is silenced then we will be living in slave society, not a free one.

Racist words Peter wrote an interesting email that raises some prickly questions. Here is his message: “Here’s a curiosity that you might find interesting. Yesterday I was playing Scrabble with my wife and wanted to use the word ‘abo.’ I doubted the official Scrabble dictionary would allow it but I checked anyway. And blow me down, it was allowed. So I thought I’d check the word ‘coon.’ It is allowed for 2 contexts, the first as a contraction of raccoon. The second is as an eccentric or undignified rustic. The example of its usage is ‘I’ll be a gone coon when the battle starts.’ That example doesn’t seem to gel with me. ‘Gone coon’ sounds more like ‘gone native’ which would indicate a rustic. However what intrigued me about this was that it was an expression my father frequently used as in ‘that joker’s a gone coon’ meaning he is headed for failure. My uncle, Dad’s brother-in-law, also used to use it in that context. They were from South Australia. Are you aware of the extent it might have been used across Australia?” There is a whole lot there that Peter raises, so let’s look at each of these issues in turn. To begin with, the Oxford has a helpful usage note on the word ‘abo.’ They say: “Early evidence suggests the term was used as an abbreviation of Aboriginal or Aborigine without specific hostile intent. Nevertheless, such usage is in contexts of widespread discrimination and prejudice towards Australian Aboriginal people, and usually carries implications of assumed cultural superiority or racial condescension.” In other words, when ‘abo’ was coined (around 1900) it was used as an abbreviation of ‘Aboriginal’ with no hostile intent, but that over years it has become associated with racial hostility and is now an offensive word used and a term of abuse and as such should not be used. As for ‘coon’ being acceptable in certain contexts, the problem is that on a Scrabble board there is no context—it’s an isolated word. I think there needs to be a blanket ban on both words. Finally, Peter’s report on the Australian use of ‘coon’ (meaning ‘failure’). The only explanation I can see is that it was an extension of the use of ‘coon’ as an offensive word for an Aborigine. As such it is the sort of thing that we should best avoid these days.

Strait There is a bit of water in the Persian Gulf that is in the news almost every day now—the ‘strait’ of Hormuz. Which, for us wordies, raises the interesting question of the origin and meaning of the word ‘strait’ and whether or not it is related to the more familiar spelling of ‘straight’. So, what’s the answer? I have done some digging into the story behind these words (or, I have done a ‘deep dive’ as the current stupid slang says) and I don’t think those two words are related. Certainly not in their history. ‘Strait’ first appears in English in the 1300s. It came into Middle English from Old French—and somewhere deep in the background behind the French word was a Latin source word (more on which in a moment). The core meaning of ‘strait’ is ‘tight, narrow’—which exactly explains its use in reporting on the Iran War, because the body of water that is called the Strait of Hormuz is definitely ‘tight and narrow’—which is why it is also dangerous. There are other bodies of water around the world that share the same descriptive title—for instance the Strait of Singapore. The old expression ‘the strait and narrow’ means a narrow path. But that expression is sometimes spelled ‘straight and narrow’ because the two words are easily confused. ‘Straight’ came into English well before ‘strait’—some time in the very early 1200s. It always had the meaning of not bent, not deviating or curved. This one comes from a Germanic source word—not from Latin via French. And the background source of ‘straight’ is the word ‘stretch’. If you stretch a piece of string (or anything for that matter) the result is that it is ‘straight’ (direct, without deviations). Meanwhile, the Latin word that lies in the background behind ‘strait’ is strictus meaning ‘strict’ or ‘stringent’ (giving us the notion of narrowness, or confinement). Despite these clear differences the Oxford says they show: ‘considerable overlap in form and some proximity in meaning.’ Which I think we’d already worked out for ourselves!

Pavlova Yesterday The Australian newspaper (the last of the real broadsheets, and the best newspaper in Australia!) ran a big feature on its back page about the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova who toured Australia and New Zealand in 1926—exactly 100 years ago this month. She was a sensation, and the talk of the entire nation. The result was that she inspired the name of the dessert we still know today as a ‘pavlova.’ However, the pronunciations of the ballerina and the dessert are not the same. The dancer was Anna PAV-lah-vah while the famous meringue-based desert is pronounced pav-LOH-vah. Both Australia and New Zealand claim to have invented ‘pavlova’—the dessert made of a large soft centred meringue, topped with whipped cream and fruit. According to one story: in 1935, the chef of the Hotel Esplanade in Perth, Herbert Sachse, created the ‘pavlova’ to celebrate the visit of that great Russian ballerina (she had made a return visit in 1933). On the other hand, the first appearance in print of the word ‘pavlova’ (meaning a dessert) is from New Zealand seven years earlier, in a booklet put out by Davis Gelatine called Davis Dainty Dishes. However, since the ‘pavlova’ we now cook includes no gelatine, that is almost certainly a reference to some other dessert and not to the meringue based one that is known in Australia and New Zealand today—which was, indeed, a genuinely Aussie invention. So, calm down Kiwis -- the pavlova is an Aussie invention! At any rate, the origin of the name is not in dispute: it wasnamed in honour of the great Russian dancer Anna Pavlova.

Hypocorism Yes, it’s Weird Word time once again—another strange and wonderful word you can add to your rapidly growing vocabulary. This time a word suggested by a reader (Jim)—and I think this one is a little beauty. But I must warn you it is regarded by the Oxford English Dictionary as both rare and archaic. But first you want to know what it means, don’t you? The Oxford’s definition is just two words: ‘pet name.’ But there is a bit more to it than that. It is a pet name used to show affection for a person—it may be a diminutive form of a person’s name, or something else entirely. So if I call my wife ‘honey’ I think that’s the sort of usage that comes under this weird and wonderful word ‘hypocorism.’ And I suspect that when someone christened ‘Maraget’ is known as ‘Molly’ that also counts as a ‘hypocorism.’ Some experts think it can be applied to label any diminutive form of a familiar name— ‘Bob’ for ‘Robert’ and that sort of thing. In linguistics there is something called ‘morphology—this is the study of the shape of words, and of how words change their shape (perhaps when they change their tense, so ‘walk’ becomes ‘walked’ in the past tense). And linguists use ‘hypocorism’ to name the morphological process by which the standard form of a word is turned into a positively-intended abbreviation. Aussies do this all the time—turning ‘afternoon’ in ‘arvo’, ‘postman’ into ‘postie’, and thousands more in the same vein. And here’s a pronunciation guide—hip-OCK-ah-riz-um. It comes from an Ancient Greek word hypokórisma which literally meant ‘to call by endearing names.’ The source word behind this originates in the Greek for ‘to treat with tokens of affection.’ When I was a small boy and my grandfather called me ‘Sunny Jim’ I suspect he intended it to be understood in this way (he wasn’t very good with small children!) 

Labelism My esteemed editor at The Spectator Australia, Rowan Dean, has coined a brand-new (and very useful!) word. Speaking on his Outsiders program on Sky News Rowan coined the term ‘labelism’ to name how some (mentally lazy) commentators go about their work. Instead of using real mental muscle these lazy commentators just resort to ‘labelism’—they stick a label on a person or an idea or a movement. That means they no longer need to think about it. They can just pigeonhole (and dismiss it) under a handy label. For example, there is the label ‘far right’ (sometimes expressed as ‘hard right’). By labelling the One Nation political party as ‘far right’ it has been stuck in a pigeonhole, and you can STOP THINKING about it. The label tells you all you need to know. Or so these commentators seem to think. If you have some complex ideas about fashionable climate theories you can be labelled ‘climate denier’ and just dismissed. There is no need to consider the evidence or the arguments—anyone pigeon-holed under the ‘climate denier’ label can just be ignored. If you happen to think that attacks on Jews (both verbal and physical) are a bad thing you can be labelled a ‘Zionist’—and hence there’s no need to weight the moral seriousness of what you say. If you are concerned about radical Islamic terrorism your protests can be dismissed under the label of ‘Islamophobia.’ Similarly, if you have the temerity to have reservations about the wisdom of legalising same-sex marriage then clearly you can be rejected under the label of ‘homophobe.’ Even the label ‘Boomer’ is being used to dismiss the views of older Aussies. If you’re part of the baby boomer generation then you must be old and stupid and you should be slammed in a box labelled ‘Boomer’ to muffle the sound of your complaining voice. That’s how ‘labelism’ works. Well done Rowan Dean! This is a word we clearly need. I hope it catches on, and that many others use it, so that it earns a place in our dictionaries.