Kel's previous Ozwords of the day...

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Transhumanism This strikes me as a nonsense word naming a nonsense concept. But who knows I might be wrong. (Yes, I am wrong sometimes… I remember the last time I was wrong… it was a Thursday, I think… about seven years ago… and, yes, I am only joking). The word ‘transhumanism’ was coined in 1957 by Julian Huxley in his essay New Bottles for New Wine. Julian Huxley (1887-1975) was an English biologist who had all sorts of weird beliefs (including in eugenics—stopping lesser people from breeding—and parapsychology and spiritualism). One of the mad ideas he dreamed up was ‘transhumanism’—the belief that humans can deliberately evolve beyond their current physical and mental limitations. Different ‘transhumanists’ have a range of different ideas. Some of them seem to think that the next level of human evolution will be human brains (or human minds) kept alive forever inside computers (sounds like a heap of fun!) Some have pictured robots (so not static computers, but walking, talking bipeds) inside of which are human minds—kept alive forever inside repairable machines. Huxley wanted to consciously apply scientific knowledge to overcome biological and social limitations. I mention this because one of the key founders of AI, Eliezer Yudkowsky (who I mentioned yesterday), seems to have started his journey into the world of strange ideas with this one—'transhumanism.’ My own view (for whatever it’s worth) is that human beings are souls—and that souls survive death, so immortality is already part of being human without any technological interference being required. Anyway, I thought this was an interesting word (and interesting notion) that you might be intrigued to hear about. (Something a bit more mainstream tomorrow!)

Superintelligence I have to follow up yesterday’s exposure of what AI really is by unpacking this expression ‘superintelligence.’ One of the key American researchers (one of the foundation researchers) into artificial intelligence is Eliezer Yudkowsky (born, 1979). After pioneering some of the big ideas behind artificial intelligence, he turned his attention to what he called a ‘runaway intelligence explosion.’ This was labelled ‘superintelligence’ by philosopher Nick Bostrom in his 2014 book of that name. Yudkowsky is best known for his 2025 book If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies: Why AI Would Kill Us All. Clearly these are people pushing an alarming doomsday scenario. At some point, clearly, Yudkowsky’s enthusiasm for AI turned to fear, and he came to believe that a superintelligent machine could escape human control. But his fear is no reason for the rest of us to start building underground bunkers and stocking up on canned food! There are two things to remember: (1) this is not real intelligence, it is ‘artificial’ intelligence—just an imitation of the real thing—and real, human intelligence will always have a quality that AI can never have; and (2) this sort of thing happens with every new technology. Possibly when our cave dwelling ancestors first discovered fire it may have taken them a while to work out that fire was a good servant, but a bad master. They may have burnt down the odd tree or bush unintentionally until they discovered they needed a control device (called a ‘fireplace’—for them perhaps circle of stones) to keep their new invention under control. So, there never will be any ‘superintelligence’ only ‘super-artificial-intelligence’ (which is not the same thing) and it seems as though everyone is alert to watch out for accompanying risks. So you can sleep easy at night!

AI I suppose it is time for me to re-visit the expression ‘AI’ (‘Artificial Intelligence’). It is back on the agenda with all the current debate about how safe AI might be for human beings and human society. One computer whizz actually stirred a small storm of controversy when he said AI might kill us all. Hence, some governments are saying there need to be ‘guardrails’ hedging in AI, while Donald Trump is dead-set against any such regulation. All of which means it is time for me to go back to exposing the real meaning of the source expression ‘Artificial Intelligence.’ And they key (as I have pointed out in the past) is to be found not in the noun but in its qualifying adjective. In other words it is the adjective ‘artificial’ that tells us what AI really is. It is not ‘intelligence’ it is ‘artificial intelligence.’ The relationship between intelligence and AI is the same as the relationship between artificial flowers and real flowers. On the one hand you have real flowers which are organic, growing, and living, and reproducing—on the other hand you have a manufactured, contrived, imitation of real flowers. In exactly the same way, you have on one hand real intelligence that organic, living, growing and reproducing—on the other hand you have a manufactured, contrived imitation of real intelligence. The proper technical name for the computer function we call ‘AI’ is actually ‘Large Language Computing.’ And because it is very powerful very fast, very complex, calculating that uses a large corpus of human language it succeeds in imitating the appearance of real (human) intelligence—without (in reality) being any more real than artificial flowers. Does that help in understanding what we’re dealing with here?

Anthropic One of the huge AI companies has chosen the word ‘anthropic’ as their brand name. The word ‘anthropic’ means ‘of, or related to, human beings.’ It comes from the Greek word anthropos meaning ‘human.’ Does it strike you as odd that a company that is pushing AI should (by using such a name) be saying to the human race ‘we’re on your side.’ Because there is no certainty at the moment that AI is a technology that will prove to be an unbounded benefit to humanity. I suppose it might be—but we shall have to wait and see. The word has (up until now) mainly been used in the expression ‘the anthropic principle.’ This is a scientific principle that says when you look at what are called the ‘constants’ of the physical universe (such as gravity, the balance between helium and hydrogen, the size of our sun, the size of out planet, the laws of thermodynamics and so on) they are all exactly fine-tuned to support human life. If any one of them had been even fractionally different then human life would be impossible. The fact that they are exactly (to the smallest decimal point) what is needed to support human life looks to be beyond coincidence—it looks suspiciously as if the whole universe was designed precisely to bring forth and support human life. Which gives the universe an intelligent and purposeful design. That, until now, has been the main use of the word ‘anthropic’—and now it’s being used by an AI company as if to imply ‘everything we do is for the benefit of the human race.’ At least that appears to be their claim. Whether it turns out to be true or we shall (as I said) have to wait and see. 

Home in on There it was in the newspaper—the use of ‘hone in on’ when (surely!) the only correct usage is ‘home in on.’ The story was about the pursuit by the Albanese government of a group called the Plymouth Brethren. They are, it seems, a very conservative group and during the last general election they campaigned against Labor. Anthony Albanese and senior frontbenchers have accused them of improper behaviour. But my point is an entirely verbal one. The journalist writing about this said: ‘Labor has honed in on the behaviour of the Plymouth Brethren. Oh, no they haven’t! The verb ‘to hone’ means ‘to sharpen.’ You can ‘hone’ a knife, you could use it figuratively and say you have ‘honed’ (sharpened) your arguments. But you can’t use ‘honed’ to mean ‘targeted.’ Here’s the background. Apparently the verbal phrase ‘to home in on’ was used by pilots employing their electronic equipment to target incoming missiles or enemy aircraft. The problem is that ‘hone’ and ‘home’ sound so similar (only differing in one letter) and people have forgotten that the original meaning of this verbal phrase was ‘targeting.’ Webster’s English Usage (1989) notes that ‘hone in on’ seems to be on the increase, although it is not yet recognised by any of the major dictionaries. What all of the dictionaries do recognise is ‘home in on’—the Cambridge English Dictionary says it means ‘to aim for’; Collins says, ‘to guide or be guided as by radar, heat, etc., to (a destination or target); while the Longman gives this definition, ‘to aim exactly at an object or place and move directly to it’ Now that’s what the Albanese hit mob is doing, right? It is ‘homing in’! I do wish some of these journalists would buy a dictionary!

Puns We all know what a ‘pun’ is: a joke (often a feeble joke) that is a play on words—sometimes using words that sound similar, or that have two meanings. But where does the word ‘pun’ come from? The experts at the Oxford say they are unsure, adding: ‘perhaps formed within English, by clipping or shortening. Or perhaps a borrowing from Italian.’  The Italian word they have in mind is puntiglio which in English becomes ‘punctilio’ and means ‘a minute detail.’ The word ‘pun’ has been part of English since at least 1644. And I can’t write about puns without giving you some examples (don’t blame me if they make you groan rather than laugh);

A man died when a pile of books fell on him—he only had his shelf to blame.

Thanks for explaining the word ‘many’ to me—it means a lot.

Boxes of weight loss pills were stolen from a chemist—police say the suspects are still at large.

Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool, so I gave him a glass of water.

Stop making jokes about being blind—I don’t see the point.

If at first you don't succeed—then skydiving is not for you.

Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.

A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.

I put up a high-voltage electric fence around my property over the weekend, my neighbour is dead against it.
I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!

Well, I did warn you, didn’t I. And looking at those awful puns I was reminded that kids find these thing hilarious (when they’re around nine or ten years old). If you are a glutton for punish (if you’ve gone off you ‘glutton free diet’) American wordsmith Richard Lederer has written a whole book about puns. 

Recently added A little while back I shared some words recently added to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary and to Dictionary.com. Today a handful of words recently added to the big Oxford English Dictionary. If you visit the Oxford site regularly, you’ll know that on the front page they are constantly listing a dozen or so words under the heading of ‘recently added.’ Here are some recent ones:

Crate day—the first Saturday of December in New Zealand, a day on which the beginning of summer is celebrated with crates of beer. The term was first used for a party held on Boxing Day by a group of friends in Tairua, New Zealand, for which partygoers were asked to bring crates of beer. In 2010, the day began to be observed nationally on the first Saturday of December as part of a promotion by a mainstream radio station, The Rock.

Café hopping—the activity of visiting bars or nightclubs; the practice of enjoying the nightlife of a city or town. Now usually: the recreational activity of visiting multiple cafés in a town, an area of a city, etc. Originally an American expression, now common in South-East Asia.

Café brûlot—this is an oldish French expression just now emerging into English. It refers to a fairly dramatic sort of drink: coffee flavoured with a mixture of sugar, spices, citrus peel, and brandy, which has been ignited and allowed to burn for a short while before being added to the coffee. (I’m not sure I want flames with my cup of coffee!)

Cafecito—this is Spanish for a small cup of coffee. I take it this is close to what we would usually call a ‘piccolo’ in Australian coffee-talk. This Spanish term names a kind of espresso originating in Cuba, made by whipping a small amount of strong coffee with an equal part of (usually brown) sugar and pouring more coffee to this mixture so as to produce a thin layer of foam on top (also known as a Cafe Cubano). 

Touristified—this means what it looks like: the name for a place that has been spoiled by the flood of tourists who come. The Oxford notes that it has ‘connotations of superficiality or lack of authenticity.’

Will-they-or-won’t-they—this is a phrase we have been using for years (with or without the hyphens), and now it has been added to the big dictionary, with the Oxford saying it means, ‘characterized by prolonged uncertainty about whether something is going to take place.’ And they then explain the context in which this is most commonly used: ‘often in the context of films, television series, etc., where the mutual attraction between two characters is repeatedly impeded as a device to sustain dramatic tension.’

As I think I’ve said before: I’m not about to run out of a job anytime soon—English is the gift that just keeps on giving!

Grandtherapy The role played by grandparents in our society has changed over the last couple of generations. Those of us who are Baby Boomers probably remember grandparents who took very little interest in us. Today grandparents become the ‘go-to’ solution for childcare, holiday care for grandkids (and helping with the grandkids school fees!) Is this a good thing? A very good thing! The newspapers these days are filled with stories about how to age well—how to remain healthy, avoid dementia and all that fairly important stuff. Now it turns out that grandparenting is one of the best solutions for aging well. So much so that it’s been given a name— ‘grandtherapy.’ In other words, being ‘working grandparents’ heavily involved in the lives of the little ones is one of the best therapies we can have. Writing in The Daily Telegraph Gary Martin said this: ‘Grandtherapy is the physical, mental and emotional lift older people can gain from being actively involved in the lives of their grandchildren.’ It turns out that a 2026 study published in the American Psychological Association’s journal Psychology and Aging examined almost 2,900 grandparents. Those who looked after grandchildren performed better on tests of memory and rapid word recall than those who did not provide care. So, every time you lower your aging frame down onto the carpet to play with Lego, and every time you read a book to the small fry, you are doing yourself some good. Plus—the benefit is two-way. I read a quote some months ago (and now I can’t find where it was, so I can’t give you the source) which said that ‘having loving grandparents provides a foundation for life.’ Those wonderful little kids benefit too. Clearly the more loved little kids feel, the more secure their foundation for life. So, it’s good for them—and it’s good for us. As Gary Martin says, ‘The secret of aging well might be as simple as a small hand reaching up for Nan or Pop.’

Snerdle One of my colleagues at The Spectator Australia, Kerry Wakefield, recently alerted me to a new word. Here’s what Kerry wrote: ‘Hi Kel, FYI, recently discovered the verb “snerdle” for a long-cherished activity, well-practised but only recently named!’ So, Kerry told me the word, but not what it meant, so I had to go hunting. According to the Urban Dictionary this word ‘snerdle’ means ‘to cuddle with, rub faces and noses with, and generally make a fuss over your pets.’ Which reminds of a TV commercial I have (vaguely) seen over the past few months. In the ad a young woman is sitting on a park bench when her dog jumps up and she does exactly this—rub faces, cuddles and the rest. (Mind you, I have no idea was the commercial was advertising, so perhaps it didn’t work for me!) The Urban Dictionary says this meaning for ‘snerdle’ dates back to around 2008. However (you knew there was a ‘however’ coming didn’t you? Yes, the world of language is full of uncertainties) however, there also appears to be a Yorkshire dialect verb ‘to snerdle’ which has a related, but broader meaning—namely: ‘to nestle closely, wrap up comfortably in bed, or go off to sleep snugly.’ This verb is used to describe snuggling or getting cozy,often in bed, and can apply to children, pets, or anyone seeking comfort. So far, ‘snerdle’ is found in none of the major dictionaries, but the Collins Dictionary has it in its special list of ‘new word suggestions’—words that have been nominated for inclusion in the big book, but have not yet produced enough evidence to warrant their inclusion. They say this word was submitted for consideration in November 2025 (which fits in with Kerry’s ‘recently coined’ comment.) The Collins boffins say that in their view ‘snerdle’ means ‘to wrap up snugly beneath the covers.’ Then they give an example of the word being used in a sentence that is slightly different: ‘The kittens snerdle together on the windowsill, peering at the snowfall.’ (Well, not all that different, I grant you.) So, is ‘snerdle’ a word you will be adding to your (already vast) vocabulary any time soon?

Misused words—part two Yesterday I gave you a short list of some of the most annoying ‘misused words’—that one’s get right up my nose! And I asked for your nominations in this same category. My thanks to all those who replied—you had some brilliant suggestions. Here are some of them.

From time immemorial—proposed by Craig. And, yes, Craig, just because something is old it has not been around since the dawn of time (which is what ‘time immemorial’ means). 

I could care less—Robyn points out that the halfwits say this when what they really mean is ‘I couldn’t care less’ (the dial couldn’t be wound down any further—which is not what the butchered version says!)

Golden goose—Nicholas points out that it was not the goose that was golden but the eggs. As in ‘the goose that laid the golden egg.’ People who leave out the egg end up with egg all over their face.

EverythinK—Nicholas is also irritated by those who add a non-existent K to the end of ‘everything’ and ‘anything.’

Pacific—protests Christina, as said by people who mean ‘specific.’

Rain, rein, and reign—Gordon says that even newspapers get muddled about whether they mean tethering a horse, or the rule of a monarch, or a heap of precipitation!

Lend—Bill says people are having a lend of us when they say ‘loan’ in place of ‘lend.’ 

Nookyular—meaning what they do at Lucas Heights. This has raised the blood pressure of many of my correspondents.

100 percent—said by people who are trying to just say ‘yes.’ Jonathan wants a simple affirmative, not a mathematical announcement.

My thanks to everyone who wrote. The trouble is the people abusing the English language are not reading Ozwords! So, how do we get the message to them?

Misused words Recently Tony Mochlair on 3AW interviewed me about commonly misused words. Here is a short list of some of the common misuses that annoy me—see if they also annoy you:

The proof is in the pudding—oh no it’s not! You won’t find the proof hidden in the pudding like a silver coin in a Christmas pudding. The correct expression is ‘the proof of the pudding is in the eating.’ If you don’t eat it you haven’t proved anything!

Espresso—have you noticed that people who drink eXpresso coffee also travel on a moving staircase they call an eXcalator?

One fell swoop—people say ‘one foul swoop’—wrong! ‘Fell’ is an old English word meaning wild (it’s related to the word ‘feral’ for a wild animal, and the wild parts of Yorkshire are The Fells). So, it means ‘one wild swoop’—foul is just foul!

Toe the line—I’ve seen people write ‘tow the line.’ What do they imagine it is? A tug-of-war? No, ‘toe the line’ means stand up the line that everyone else is lining up to, like runners at the start of a race.

Begs the question—means assuming the truth of your claim from your first sentence. It does not mean ‘raises the question’ or ‘avoids the question.’ No one understands this, so best avoided.

Cheap at half the price—of course it would be! So, sell it to me at half price! What the speaker means is ‘cheap at twice the price.’

Literally—comes from the French and means ‘to the letter’ (if you’d been there, you’d have seen this physically happen). So, when you say you are ‘literally’ dead on your feet you are asking me to give you a coffin, not a rest.

And I have many more on my list. What is your list of ‘misused words’? Share you list with me, and I will publish it here.

Brain Rot This looks like one of those trendy new words that was coined about a week ago. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that ‘brain rot’ was actually coined in 1854—and by Henry David Thoreau no less, in his masterpiece Walden (a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings). In that book he refers to the disease called ‘potato-rot’ that was inflicting the British Isles at the time, and then laments that no one is tackling the much more serious complaint of ‘brain rot’ which (he says) ‘prevails so much more widely and fatally.’ Of course these days we suspect that ‘brain rot’ is the risk facing those people who are glued to their little screens for hours every day. I have sat in a railway carriage on the Sydney metro reading a book (as I do on the train) surrounded by dozens of people—all of them glued to their little smart phones as if their lives depended on it. The ‘brain rot’ we’re talking about here includes shortened attention spans and the steady eroding of the ability to work through a complex issue one logical point at a time. The big American dictionary, the Merriam-Webster, defines ‘brain rot’ as slang for ‘a perceived decline in cognitive function attributed to consuming too much shallow or addictive online content.’ ‘Brain rot’, they add, can also be used to refer to the shallow or addictive content itself. I suppose the point is—how many cute cat videos can one person watch on Tik Tok without losing their capacity to think at all? The Oxford takes a similar line and says that ‘in recent use (brain rot) is particularly associated with the overconsumption of such content posted online.’ Writing in The New York Times Maxi Heitmayer says, ‘Every decade or so, adults discover that young people are consuming media that corrupts their minds—and a moral panic ensues… Now the panic surrounds “brain rot”—the state of being entranced by an infinite stream of nonsensical TikToks and Instagram reels.’ Maxi is mistakenly trying to hose down our concerns—but we should be concerned before ‘brain rot’ reaches epidemic proportions.

Taekwondo The 2026 Asian Games are being held in Japan. There is competition in 43 sports and over 460 events in 53 venues in Japan’s Aichi-Nagoya Prefecture. One of the events is this ‘taekwondo’ which is defined as ‘a Korean martial art particularly characterized by the use of a combination of kick movements in combat, and widely practised as a sport’ (Oxford English Dictionary). I presume that like all martial arts it has an ancient heritage, but the word only turns up in English from around 1962. In English we pronounce the word as tigh-kwon-DOH. And when I look at that pronunciation I’m sure I’ve heard of it (without ever being quite sure what it was). The name combines two Chinese words meaning ‘kick’ and ‘fist’—and I’m sure that more or less describes what the fighters in the arena get up to. Except at these Asian Games where something quite weird is happening. It seems that this time it’s being done differently—fighters square off against each other on the mat (but not actually within striking distance!) and then perform the Korean martial art’s familiar kicks and punches but (and it’s a big ‘but’) without physically striking one another. What happens is that their movements control images (called ‘avatars’) that fight on a screen. So this is a combat sport in which no actual combat takes place? That would be like two boxers standing a couple of metres away from each other, swinging punches into the air, which controlled computer images of boxers hitting each other. Or something like that. Critics have dismissed this event at the Asian Games as ‘just a video game,’ despite its use of traditional taekwondotechniques. That sound you can hear is the ancient masters of this ancient combat sport spinning in their graves.

Patisserie Brigade The leader of the ‘Patisserie Brigade’ Noël Bodin has died at the age of 80.  You might think you have never heard of the ‘Patisserie Brigade’ but I’m sure you have. Do you remember occasional news stories cropping up over the years about celebrities, politicians and public figures being hit in the face with a cream pie? Ah, yes, that’s the ‘Patisserie Brigade’ at work! Many of the people hit with a pie by Noël Bodin were French political and cultural leaders, but his targets included Bill Gates and Bill Clinton. Wikipedia credits him with a total of 28 distinguished targets in his pie-ing stretching from 1969 to 2023. Noël Bodin was born in Belgium in 1945, and spent his life as a comedian, writer, critic, actor and famous (or notorious) pie thrower or entarteur (I take it than an ‘entarter’ is a person who ‘tarts’ someone). He was described as ‘the French-speaking world’s best-known prankster.’ He led what he called the ‘International Patisserie Brigade.’ Godin used pastry-hurling as a form of protest, describing himself as an ‘anarcho-confectioner.’ He told reporters that his pies were always fresh and high-quality, purchased at local bakeries. He once wrote a book about his exploits called (very cleverly) Cream and Punishment (an obvious pun on ‘crime and punishment’). The word ‘patisserie’ means ‘food made by a pastry cook, or pastries collectively, or a shop that sells such pastries.’ The word came into English from Middle French around 1594. But here is the weird part—the Oxford English Dictionary says that it went in French from Scottish! At least I think that’s what they’re saying—they certainly refer back to an earlier obsolete Scottish dialect for a pastry cook or pastries (who would have thought?)

Mansion A recent news story said that San Francisco real estate agents claim that the rapid expansion of the AI industry is helping fuel a ‘mansion shortage.’ As the AI industry creates new wealth, more buyers are competing for a limited number of large single-family houses. Dozens of homes reportedly sold for at least $1 million above their asking prices, and even all-cash offers on properties listed for as much as $25 million have been outbid. Well, we know what they mean by ‘mansion’ in that context: ‘a very large, impressive, or stately residence’ (Dictionary.com). Here in Australia we might call a very large, flash house in the suburbs a ‘MacMansion’—combing ‘mansion’ with the abbreviation of ‘MacDonalds’ (hamburger joints pretending to be ‘restaurants’). Similarly a ‘MacMansion’ is a two-storey suburban home pretending to be a lord’s residence. And in Britain ‘mansion’ can have another meaning— ‘Each of a number of separate dwelling places or apartments in a large house’ (Oxford). Hence, there might be a building called ‘Belgravia Mansions.’ But this use of ‘mansion’ for multiple dwelling places has a distinguished history. When William Tyndale did his famous translation of the Bible in 1526 (from the original Greek) he translated Jesus’ words as: ‘In my Father’s house there are many mansions’ (John 14:2). The original Greek text uses a word (monai) which is probably better translated ‘abodes’ (or dwelling places)—this is the plural form of a word that means tarrying or stopping or abiding place. And this may, indeed, lie somewhere in the background of our English word ‘mansion’—having travelled through Latin and French to make its way into English, where it turned up around 1375. 

Bung Recently Bernard Salt (writing in The Weekend Australian) drew my attention to that fine old Aussie word ‘bung.’ Bernard said that from the 1960s the word ‘bung’ meant ‘to throw or place or put something on, as in to bung a sausage (on the barbie) or a coat (if it’s cold). Or, indeed, to bung something on the table if it’s to be discussed, admired, and/or eaten. To bung on an accent or affectation was done by someone to present as being a bit la-de-da.’ The final authority on everything to do with the Australian language is The Australian National Dictionary so I decided to hunt through its pages for a clue to ‘bung.’ And the result is interesting. That big book records another familiar meaning of ‘bung’—namely ‘broken’, as in ‘the TV’s gone bung.’ This is definitely an Australian coinage which seems to start in Australian pidgin English around 1841. To start with ‘bung’ just meant dead, but over time it acquired a wider range of meanings— ‘to go bung’ could mean bankruptcy, financial ruin (from 1897) or to be incapacitated or broken (from 1945)—but the Aussie word ‘bung’ never had the meaning of ‘to throw or put.’ That seems to come, not from us but from Scotland! The verb ‘to bung’ meaning ‘to throw, to send, to put’ is recorded as coming into mainstream English from a Scottish dialect source in 1825. So, there you are Bernard—a little revision on your excellent column: one ‘bung’ is an Australian coinage (the going ‘bung’ one) and the other ‘bung’ (the throw something on ‘bung’) is not. But if you hadn’t raised this, we would never have discovered it—so, well done!

Smallgoods It suddenly occurred to me the other day that ‘smallgoods’ is a very odd term. Why do we call processed meat products ‘smallgoods.’ And are there any such things as ‘large-goods’? It turns out that this is our expression—an Australian coinage. ‘Small goods’ (as two words) was originally coined back in 1716 to mean, well, small goods—small items of merchandise. So far, so good-all perfectly logical. And the British still use the term in that way. For example, in 2012 the London Daily Telegraph wrote about: ‘a selection of bags, wallets, ties, small goods and laptop and phone accessories.’ That’s the old meaning— ‘smallgoods’ just meaning a bunch of small things. But in Australia (and only in Australia, and, I think, in New Zealand) in 1874 the expression ‘smallgoods’ turns up with the meaning of processed meat. In that year the word was applied to the products of pork butchers. In New Zealand there are references to offal (livers, kidneys, hearts, and sweetbreads) as being ‘smallgoods’—which is not exactly how we use the word here in Australia. When we say ‘smallgoods’ we mean stuff like salami—processed, cooked meat. In Australia ‘smallgoods’ are defined as being cooked, dried, cured and otherwise processed meat products, such as salami; manufactured meats. (And here it has become one word, without a break or hyphen in the middle). There is a French term that (more or less) covers the same territory—charcuterie. I take it that the old English term was adopted (and adapted) in Australia because sliced ham, salami and so on really were ‘smallgoods’ (small items). And one fixed meaning for a word can squeeze out all the other possibilities. (That’s just how language works.) And, no, there never was any such expression as ‘large goods.’

Meme This word (pronounced to rhyme with ‘cream’) turns up often in the media, and it still leaves many people puzzled. It was coined in 1976 by biologist Richard Dawlins in his book The Selfish Gene. His theory was that just as there are biological ‘genes’ that carry human characteristics from person to person, so there must be something similar in culture that carries fashionable notions from person to person in a society. He called these fashion notions ‘memes’—choosing a one syllable word like ‘gene’ that comes from a Greek source meaning ‘imitation.’ Dawkins said: ‘Examples of memes are tunes, ideas, catch-phrases, clothes fashions, ways of making pots or of building arches.’ Supposedly a meme acts as a unit for carrying cultural ideas, symbols, or practices, that can be transmitted from one mind to another. These days the things most commonly called ‘memes’ are on social media—frequently in the form of AI generated images (or animations) that mock an idea or a person. Politicians have been known to complain about social media ‘memes’ that mock them. I think this has drifted a long way from Richard Dawkins original use of the word ‘meme.’ He meant something that would move through society as silently as a gene moves through a population. But ‘meme’ is now being used for obviously generated images (or animations) clearly invented for the purpose of spreading an idea (often a mocking idea). My own view is that Dawkins’ original notion of a ‘meme’ was nonsense. Human society doesn’t function like a biological mechanism—there are too many choices made at too many points for such an idea to hold water. However, the new, altered meaning of ‘meme’—a simplified notion captured by a slogan or an image—makes more sense, since it records something that human being do intentionally. Now, if you had found the word ‘meme’ puzzling—have I made it any clearer? 

In the dictionary Over the last two days I have been sharing some new words with you—words just added to Dictionary.com and the Merriam-Webster Dictionary. This, of course raises the question of just how do new words get into the dictionary? Does someone invent them and send them in hoping the dictionary publisher likes them and puts them in the big book? I have often been asked that question. And the answer to that one is: no. You can’t just invent a word and offer it. New words are added to dictionaries on the basis of usage. All dictionaries keep a huge file of the words being used publicly at any time. When the Oxford (and other early dictionaries) were first compiled such data bases (as we would call them today) were on slips of paper or file cards. These days, of course, they are in computers. Dictionaries call this huge collection of modern usage a ‘corpus’ (from the Latin word for ‘body’—since this is the evidence for the body of English currently in use). The Collins Dictionary cleverly calls their corpus ‘the bank of English’ (as a play on ‘Bank of England’). These files contain short quotations (called citations) showing each word in use, in context. Here’s how the Merriam-Webster people describe the process: A word gets into a dictionary when it is used by many people who all agree that it means the same thing. If your toddler nephew invented a great word that the English language simply can’t do without, don’t write to us to recommend that it be added to the dictionary. Use it. First, you drop the word into your conversation and writing, then others pick it up; the more its use spreads, the more likely it will be noticed by dictionary editors, or lexicographers. If your nephew’s word is one that English speakers decide we need, it has a good chance of getting into the dictionary.

More new words! Yesterday I reported that the Merrian-Webster Dictionary has added 1,400 new words to their big book. Today Dictionary.com has gone one better—they have issued a list of 5,900 new words and definitions added to their already extensive list. And these new words come from all over the shop—some from biology and ecology, some from physics and astronomy, some from earth sciences, and a whole heap (as you might expect) from computers and technology. Plus, of course, the usual new trendy inventions (many from the world of social media that you and I are too sensible to spend much time in). Here’s a small sample:

Face reveal—the act, especially by an online content creator, gamer, or the like, of posting a photograph of their own face for the first time.

STBX—an inventive initialism meaning: ‘soon to be ex’ (husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse, or partner).

Love bomb—a gushy display of affection, often for the purpose of manipulation.

Sponge city—a type of urban planning model which emphasizes the management of flooding and stormwater through green infrastructure.

Lost in the sauce—clueless, confused, or in a fog; preoccupied or disoriented; inebriated.​

Glow-up—a positive transformation, generally in appearance but often also in confidence, social capital, or ability.

Goated—considered by many people to be the GOAT (from the existing acronym Greatest Of All Time).

Longevity escape velocity—a hypothetical situation in which advances in medical science mean that a person’s remaining life expectancy increases at a rate which is faster than the passage of time.

And (clearly) there are a great many more along the same lines. (Again many of those are already familiar, but the point is that they are now officially recognised and recorded in the dictionary.) Sometimes, I despair that these new expressions being thrust upon us will have the lifespan of a fruit fly—they will come, have their brief season in the sun, and then disappear again just as quickly. Or am I being just a touch cynical here?

New words Clearly I am not about to run out of work for a while yet—new words keep being added to the English language. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary has just released a list of 1,400 new words and definitions they have added to their huge dictionary. A lot of the new coinages grow out of the sheer verbal inventiveness of English speakers, others from the changes that technology is forcing on our society. Here’s a small sample so you can see what I mean:

Looksmaxxing—the practice of taking one or more sometimes extreme or dangerous measures intended to increase one's physical attractiveness.

Parasocial—relating to or involving a one-sided emotional connection with someone (especially a celebrity or fictional character) whom one does not know personally.

Vibe coding—the act or practice of using an artificial intelligence system to generate computer code in a given programming language.

Superfood—a food (such as salmon, broccoli, or blueberries) that is rich in nutrients (such as antioxidants, fibre, or fatty acids) considered beneficial to one's health.

Cake pop—a lollipop made usually of a compressed ball of cake crumbs and icing that is dipped in a usually chocolate or sugary coating and often decorated (as with sprinkles or piped icing).

Sunday scares—feelings of anxiety or sadness that arise on Sunday from the knowledge that the weekend is almost over.

Whack-a-mole—a situation in which a new problem appears as soon as an existing similar problem has been addressed.

Shapewear—tight-fitting undergarments designed to shape and smooth the body.

Many of those are already familiar, but the point is that they are now officially recognised and recorded in the dictionary. That’s just a small, random selection from the 1,400 new words added to the giant American Webster’s Dictionary. But they are not the only ones discovering new words. Tomorrow the even longer list of newly invented words uncovered by Dictionary.com.

Libertarianism A reader (Michael) has asked me to define the political term ‘Libertarianism.’ Well, I might just flick pass that question to one of the major dictionaries. 

The Cambridge Dictionary says this is the belief that people should be free to think and behave as they want and should not have limits put on them by governments. But a great many Liberal and Conservative Parties would say the same—so what makes this sort of political thinking different or distinctive in any way? John Ruddick is a member of the New South Wales upper house (the Legislative Council) and is a member of the Libertarian Party. His website says: ‘Libertarianism is a philosophy which recognizes the self-ownership of the individual, and that no one’s life, liberty, or property can be morally infringed upon by another.’ And most of us would agree that personal liberty is a very high priority. The problem with that sort of strong language is that other people have rights, and we have responsibilities towards other people—we have obligations as members of society. Libertarianism seems to downplay these. Sometimes, it seems to me, we might choose to give up a bit our liberty (a personal right we have) for the good of others. To give a made-up example: we might support a law that compelled us to provide personal ID when we play a poker machine—even though that’s an infringement of our personal liberty. But we can see that there are people with gambling addictions (that ruin them and their families) and we allow our liberty to be infringed in an attempt to help them control their addiction. So, I have some reservations about Libertarianism. It seems to me to go too far in one direction; to be unbalanced. What do you think?

Illicit Versus Illegal Recently Peta Credlin asked me to look at the difference between ‘illicit’ and ‘illegal.’ She had used both words in one of her editorials and asked me to look at the difference (if any) between them. They are clearly closely related and clearly have overlapping meanings—so how are they connected? Well, the basic thing to know is that one of them is a broader term and one is narrower. ‘Illicit’ (which was coined around 1606) is a broader classification than ‘illegal’ (which was coined a bit later in 1624). ‘Illegal’ is pretty straight forward, and means anything that is unlawful, that violates a specific law. ‘Illicit’ includes that but goes beyond it, making ‘illicit’ a broader term. It includes things that are illegal (and, in fact, ‘illicit’ it comes from a classical Latin source word meaning ‘unlawful’) but it also includes things that are not covered by specific laws. ‘Illicit’ includes things that are not authorized or allowed; that are regarded by society as improper, or irregular. It especially applies to things which are not sanctioned by law, or rule, or custom. So something that is not unlawful, but which is indecent and revolting to most people can be called ‘illicit’ even though it’s not ‘illegal.’ An example might best explain what I mean. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese mocking the Japanese Prime Minister by making a lewd gesture with his hands while referring to her ‘melons’ may be classified as ‘illicit’—even though it’s clearly not illegal. If it had come from a stupid 15-year-old boy we might say he ought to grow up and behave decently—but we might not call it ‘illicit’ because that’s what teenage boys are like. However, when it comes from the Prime Minister who is supposed to be dignified and statesman-like it comes under the heading of ‘illicit’ for him to behave as if he were a brainless 15-year-old. It does not pass the pub test—and that makes it (in the eyes of the community) ‘illicit.’ Now that distinction between ‘illicit’ and ‘illegal’ is based on their etymology—and a legal dictionary might make a different distinction between them. But in ordinary, conversational English—that’s the difference!