Once again, I’m very grateful indeed to Randoh Sallihall of Unscramblerer.com for sharing his data on language usage online. I previously posted his analysis of last year’s slang lookups (online searches)* and this time his findings reveal the most popular internet text abbreviation lookups in 2025 so far, for the UK and the USA. I was amused to see SMH (‘shaking my head‘) featuring high in both lists. A few years ago I confidently stated in a BBC radio interview that this stood for ‘same here’ – as I had just been informed by a group of schoolkids. I was immediately and publicly corrected – and shamed – by presenter Anne McElvoy and invited journalist Hannah Jane Parkinson and the bitter experience has stayed with me.** It may be culturally significant also that Britain’s favourite apology – in the form of SOZ – doesn’t feature at all on the American list.
“Analysis of Google search data for 2025 so far reveals the most searched for text abbreviations in the UK.”
Most searched for text abbreviations in the United Kingdom:
1. POV (39 000 searches) – Point of view.
2. SMH (34 000 searches) – Shake my head.
3. PMO (28 000 searches) – Put me on.
4. ICL (17 000 searches) – I Can’t Lie.
5. OG (16 000 searches) – Original gangster.
6. OTP (16 000 searches) – One true pairing.
7. NVM (13 000 searches) – Never mind.
8. TM (11 000 searches)- Talk to me.
9. SN (7 000 searches) – Say nothing.
10. BTW (6 000 searches) – By the way.
11. KMT (6 000 searches) – Kiss my teeth.
12. FS (6 000 searches) – For sure.
13. WYM (6 000 searches) – What you mean.
14. HRU (6 000 searches) – How are you?
15. ATP (5 000 searches) – At this point.
16. SYBAU (5 000 searches) – Shut your b—h ass up.
17. IGHT (5 000 searches) – Alright.
18. ONB (4 000 searches) – On bro.
19. WSP (4 000 searches) – What’s up?
20. TY (4 000 searches) – Thank you.
21. SOZ (3 500 searches) – Sorry.
22. IDC (3 000 searches) – I don’t care.
23. LDAB (3 000 searches) – Let’s do a b-tch.
24. PFP (3 000 searches) – Picture for proof.
25. IBR (3 000 searches) – It’s been real.
26. IYW (3 000 searches) – If you will.
27. TB (2 500 searches) – Text back.
28. FYI (2 500 searches) – For your information.
29. GTFO (2 500 searches) – Get the f–k out.
30. HY (2 000 searches) – Hell yeah.
Most searched for text abbreviations in the United States:
1. FAFO (254 000 searches) – F–k around and find out.
2. SMH (166 000 searches) – Shake my head.
3. PMO (101 000 searches) – Put me on.
4. OTP (95 000 searches) – One true pairing.
5. TBH (93 000 searches) – To be honest.
6. ATP (85 000 searches) – At this point.
7. TS (79 000 searches) – Talk soon.
8. WYF (76 000 searches) – Where are you from.
9. NFS (75 000 searches) – New friends.
10. ASL (65 000 searches) – As hell.
11. POV (63 000 searches) – Point of view.
12. WYLL (59 000 searches) – What you look like.
13. FS (58 000 searches) – For sure.
14. FML (56 000 searches) – F–k my life.
15. DW (55 000 searches) – Don’t worry.
16. HMU (54 000 searches) – Hit me up.
17. ISO (53 000 searches) – In search of.
18. WSG (50 000 searches) – What’s good?
19. IMO (48 000 searches) – In my opinion.
20. MK (45 000 searches) – Mmm, okay.
21. ETA (40 000 searches) – Estimated time of arrival.
22. ICL (37 000 searches) – I Can’t Lie.
23. MB (37 000 searches) – My bad.
24. STG (29 000 searches) – Swear to god.
25. ION (28 000 searches) – In other media.
26. PFP (27 000 searches) – Picture for proof.
27. NTM (27000 searches) – Nothing much.
28. DTM (26 000 searches) – Doing too much.
29. TTM (26 000 searches)- Talk to me.
30. MBN (25 000 searches) – Must be nice.
31. ETC (24 000 searches) – And the rest.
32. BTW (23 000 searches) – By the way.
33. WFH (21 000 searches) – Work from home.
34. GMFU (20 000 searches) – Got me f—-d up.
35. NGL (19000 searches) – Not gonna lie.
36. SYBAU (19 000 searches) – Shut your b—h ass up.
37. BTA (17 000 searches) – But then again.
38. SB (17 000 searches) – Somebody.
39. HBD (16 000 searches) – Happy Birthday.
40. PMG (15 000 searches) – Oh my god.
41. HY (15 000 searches) – Hell yeah.
42. TMB (11 000 searches) – Text me back.
43. WYS (10 000 searches) – Whatever you say.
44. GNG (9 000 searches) – Gang (close friends or family).
45. IKTR (8 000 searches) – I know that’s right.
46. IKR (7 000 searches) – I know, right?
47. ARD (6 000 searches) – Alright.
48. IFG (5 500 searches) – I f—–g guess.
49. HN (4 000 searches) – Hell no.
50. TTH (3 000 searches) – Trying too hard.
A spokesperson for Unscramblerer.com commented on the findings: “Text abbreviations are the secret language of the internet. You could even call them an integral part of social media culture. Snappy, always changing and hard to understand. Texting abbreviations is all about saving time and appearing cool. Keeping up to date with the newest trending abbreviations is no easy task. Old meanings can change while new abbreviations are created. A recent study found that abbreviations might not be as cool as people think. Using abbreviations makes the sender seem less sincere. This also leads to lower engagement and shorter responses. There is nothing wrong with using abbreviations in casual conversations with friends and family. However it is best do draw a line for professional conversations. Context matters.”
Research was conducted by word finding experts at Unscramblerer.com.
We analyzed 01.01.2025 -05.03.2025 search data from Google Trends for terms related to text abbreviations.
Methodology: We used Google Trends to discover the top trending text abbreviations and Ahrefs to find the number of searches. America’s most popular text abbreviations can be discovered in Google Trends through the keyword variations of ‘meaning text’. Abbreviations are used most often on social media and texting. The 2025 top trending abbreviations are the least understood. People have to search for their meaning (example ‘TBH meaning text’). Ahrefs shows many variations of meaning searches like ‘text meaning’ or ‘means in text'(example ‘PMO meaning in text’) and similar keyword combinations(example ‘what does SMH mean in text’). We added up 100 search variations of top text abbreviations.
I was very grateful, too, when Claire Martin-Tellis of content marketing and digital PR specialists North Star Inbound contacted me with an update, again from the USA, on attitudes to outdated slang…
“As new slang terms like “Beta,” “GYAT,” and “Skibidi,” continue to surface, it’s enough even to make Gen Z feel old! Language learning app Preply asked Americans of all ages to weigh in on their favorite era of slang. Here is what decade reigns supreme:
Over ⅓ of Americans say the 1990s is their favorite decade for slang.
Men surveyed preferred the 1970s while women preferred the 1990s.
“Baloney,” “take a chill pill,” and “bogus” are the three most popular slang terms Americans want to see come back.
As the campaigning reached its climax and the polling-stations began to open, I spoke to Kate O’Connell and Gemma Chatwin of the Corporate Communications TeamatKing’s College London about the language used by the rival candidates, their aides and their supporters during the twelve months since the election process began. Kate and Gemma’s questions are below with my replies…
As a language specialist, what have you observed/found interesting about the US election?
One thing that strikes an outsider – British or European, I suggest – is the different nature of the vocabulary and rhetoric employed in US campaigning: the seemingly chaotic and unrestrained messaging, pivoting and veering unexpectedly into new areas sometimes, showing a lack of consistency, except in tone (Trump’s particularly). There is actually less reliance on a narrow range of repeated specific keywords, slogans and soundbites than has been the case in UK political campaigning – for Brexit, during the pandemic and in the recent election: (‘Take back control’, ‘Brexit means Brexit’, ‘Eat out to help out’, ‘Stop the Boats’ etc.). The Republicans’ messages have been more consistent in emphasising a few key ‘wedge’ issues while Democrats seemed to take a long time to decide on their priorities in terms of focus.
How has the language used by both candidates differed? What does their language tell us about their campaign strategy/ voter base?
Linguists – myself included – have tried to track the formulations (not so much genuinely new language as reworking of familiar tropes) used by each side and measure the frequency with which particular topics and particular trigger-words recur. Donald Trump has employed a vocabulary containing many examples of the language of fear and violence, and much intemperate language throughout: ‘vermin’, ‘criminal migrants’, ‘the enemy from within’, ‘radical left lunatics’, and words evoking existential threats: ‘invaded’, ‘conquered’, ‘occupied’, ‘deportation’ and violence: ‘kill’, ‘death’, ‘blood’, ‘nuclear war’, ‘guns trained on her face’. One analysis concluded that Trump had used more violent language than any other recent political orator except Fidel Castro!
Trump has consistently favoured the use of ‘I’ and ‘they’, Harris more often emphasising ‘we’. The Democrats on the other hand, while perhaps favouring less inflammatory language have possibly failed, until the closing days of the campaign (‘neighbors not enemies’ is a last-minute exception), to find memorable, resonant phrases to inspire and motivate. While initially hesitant, and despite Kamala Harris being accused in the more distant past of ‘word salads’ the Democrats, apart from Joe Biden, have been measurably more coherent, while many of Trump’s recent performances have been criticised as meandering if not incomprehensible. His justification for this being that he is practising ‘the weave’, a sort of improvisational incantation that his followers appreciate.
We have seen a lot of name-calling in the 2024 election, has it been effective?
A famous example of a slur which seems to have worked is Tim Walz’s characterising of Trump and the Republicans as ‘weird’. This is effective since the word is not especially offensive or toxic but frames the opposition as odd, eccentric, unstable in worrying ways, by implication disturbing – a relatively casual criticism of a community that is old and out of touch with reality. The Republicans accusing ‘immigrants’ of eating pet dogs and cats and likening Puerto Rico to a ‘floating island of garbage’ outraged their opponents, though Joe Biden also came unstuck when he reached for the same metaphor. It’s notable that both sides have used proxies to deliver some of the most stinging criticisms of the leaders, rather than have them delivered by the candidates themselves: ‘childless cat lady’ for example, or ‘unhinged, unstable, unchecked’ – words supplied by former Trump aides and reposted by the Democrats. One rather surprising blip in the unfolding news cycle occurred when Harris suddenly approved the f-word, agreeing when it was suggested to her that Donald Trump was a ‘fascist’. He quickly returned the insult, adding the ‘N-word’ which everyone had so far avoided: ‘I’m the opposite of a Nazi’. Both sides seem to have tacitly put those words aside for the final phase of the campaigning, though tellingly, in a final peroration J.D Vance urged followers to ‘take out the trash’ in reference to the Vice-President.
I think that outsiders listening in bemusement or horror at the campaign rhetoric misunderstand the nature of the voter bases involved. Doom-laden warnings and threats and angry braggadocio can be effective, reassuring and motivating to an audience for whom ‘make America great again’ carries a conviction that the country is at the mercy of hostile forces and on the edge of social breakdown. Conversely Kamala Harris’s more upbeat, feelgood emphasis attempts to instil a cheerful positivity which may not always have been backed up with hard facts or firm commitments(apart perhaps where reproductive rights are concerned).
Could this be the first election won on TikTok?
Kamala Harris’s folksy reference, early in the campaign, to having ‘fallen out of the coconut tree’ cleverly appealed to a family audience and referenced her own potentially controversial heritage in a positive way.She has also tried, seemingly with some success, to tap into the female and feminine constituency and the relatively youthful energy displayed by users of TikTok, a platform which avoids threats and displays of anger and relies on self-promotion, performances of success and – crucially – an element of self-mockery and humour that is entirely missing from Donald Trump’s repertoire. TikTok currently occupies the high-ground of the social media landscape and is a valuable channel by which to reach millennials and GenZ (the latter voting for the first time) millions of whom are potential democrat supporters. It does not reach, however the middle-aged or elderly undecided.Celebrity endorsements apparently can motivate potential non-voters to change their minds and vote, but unsurprisingly probably only affect a demographic which is already on-side anyway (‘Swifties’ for example who are said to have added 400,000 votes to Harris’s tally). Elon Musk’s embracing of Donald Trump is more difficult to assess, as Musk’s own fanbase – tech bros, startup promoters and bitcoin traders among them – aren’t necessarily effective multipliers or influencers on his behalf or Trump’s and perhaps less likely to sway the undecided.
How did brat summer and ‘vibes’ benefit Kamala Harris’s campaign?
When pop icon Charli XCX posted her endorsement on X, ‘Kamala IS brat’, young women flooded social media with pro-Harris ‘brat’ memes, kickstarting her takeover from Biden and effectively labelling her as endearingly ‘messy, honest and volatile.’ The democrat campaign switched up to make good use of the tropes and tendencies of pop culture and entertainment media, receiving endorsements from many musicians and Hollywood names, culminating in their candidate’s surprise appearance on Saturday Night Live in which she launched viral versions of her own name -‘End the drama-la’, ‘Cool new step mom-ala’ and returned to that conflicted keyword, asserting that she would be able to open the ‘doors of the garbage truck’ that Trump had fumbled with. This confident banter in the very last moments of the campaign, along with her pivot, after Bill Clinton’s disastrous intervention, to promising some sort of support for Gaza, can only help the democrats’ chances, and these messages are featuring in places that Trump cannot usually access. Nevertheless the Republican candidate is doubling down on his insurrectionist rhetoric, welcomed by his base, saying now that he ‘should never have left the White House in the first place’.
My friend Serena Smith wrote perceptively for Dazed magazine about the role of celebrities in the presidential race…
Once the race was over the avalanche of post-mortems and recriminations began. Among them were a few which focused, as I had tried to, on the discourse of division. In the New YorkerJoshua Rothman considered the very different flavour of the two parties’ language…
“Id been spending a lot of time watching interviews with Kamala Harris and Donald Trump – conversations that tended to be below average. On shows like “60 Minutes” and in her CNN town tall, Harris had been charming and trenchant but also repetitive and inflexible. Restrained by her determination to stay on message, she often failed to answer questions directly. Trump, for his part, lied, rambled and spouted nonsense as usual. And yet his lack of constraint at least made him entertaining…
…Harris and Trump’s flawed performances were typical of the duelling communications styles now wielded by Democrats and Republicans. Broadly, Democrats preach while Republicans riff; Democrats stick to their messages while Republicans let loose with whatever comes into their heads.”
In the GuardianNesrine Malik convincingly dismantled the lazy consensus that held that the result was a defeat for the Democrats’ supposedly embracing ‘woke’ policies and relying on endorsement by ‘woke’ celebrities…
Dictionary makers and journalists are breathlessly – if not desperately – publicising the latest online language – but do they really understand it?
One week on, I spoke to Chloe MacDowell of the UK Guardian newspaper, then to Marni McFall of the US Newsweek magazine on the topic of TikTok language and the online messaging mannerisms of Influencers and GenZ. Chloe was interested in one particular trending TikTok catchphrase, Marni in the whole panoply of 2024’s viral innovations.
Once authentic conversations and personal interactions (previously happening in private spaces or local communities) began to feature on the internet and in messaging and on microblogging platforms, language novelties, slang and faddish usages crossed over from a private realm into the global public domain. The latest slang and new language was visible, audible and immediately available to share. Obscure or exotic terms might quickly catch on and become viral favourites, spreading in some cases across the anglosphere more rapidly than print, broadcast or word-of-mouth transmission had ever been to achieve in the past.
Words and phrases began to function like memes, taking on sometimes a ‘multimodal’ aspect whereby sound and image could reinforce the purely verbal expressions that people chose to exchange and promote. Pre-internet there had always been catchphrases, what linguists call ‘vogue words’, slogans and soundbites, and keywords that somehow seemed to evoke or encapsulate some special aspect of the ‘zeitgeist’. What we have now is a much more knowing, deliberate intention (on the part of trend-setters, influencers, ‘thought-leaders’) to create new language to celebrate new identities and to promote new attitudes and lifestyle innovations to the widest possible audience.
Subcultures like surfers, valley girls, fanboys and girls, hip hop aficionados had always invented striking, expressive language and this is still true, but instead of niche culture we have ‘meganiches’, instead of subcultures we are dealing with globalised communities.
The fashionable language of TikTok and GenZ in particular is part of their wider obsession with vibes, aesthetics and microtrends, many of which arise and are discarded in rapid succession. The prevalent style is exhibitionist, self-promoting, allusive and often ironic, increasingly even absurdist, making it hard for outsiders to grasp the nuances in play. Older commentators and dictionary publishers struggle to keep pace, often misunderstand and record the terms in desperation (in their searches for ‘word of the year’ for example) just as they fall out of use.
The use of this language as an identity marker in an intensely competitive digital ecosystem means that the Gen Alpha cohort now ridicule GenZ usages as being out-of date, while GenZ is still deriding millennials for their old-fashioned ‘cringe’ vocabulary. At the same time would-be influencers practise bragging, ‘manifesting’ and other forms of self-congratulation in a search for clicks and clout.
One of the latest features of online wordplay is the elevating of an older concept or cliche into a teasing provocation or pretence at new insights, as we have seen with ‘delulu’, ‘demure’ and ‘mindful’, ‘rizz’ and ‘brat’. The current rash of declarations of ‘being privileged’ – a new version of ‘humblebragging’ or ‘virtue-signalling’ – is another example. In parallel is the ironic celebration of the incoherence or absurdity of much online discourse and of low-quality ‘slop’ by embracing a culture of ‘brainrot’ – nonsense memes such as ‘skibidi’ and vacuous, contagious content.
Most of the innovation in online language and image still emanates from the US and even though a global audience can access it instantly, its tropes (think ‘goblin-mode’ – ‘goblin’ doesn’t have the same associations for Brits) don’t always translate for other speakers of English. In parallel, poses, gestures and looks as well as music-related modes are increasingly generated from non-English cultural zones such as Japan and Korea. It will be interesting to see if other parts of the globe begin to play a part in the evolving online theatre of signs and behaviours, but this doesn’t seem to have happened yet.
On the first of November Collins Dictionaries, ahead of the pack, had already announced their choice of word of the year for 2024, and their candidates illustrated the same, in my opinion mistaken, concentration exclusively on terms from a very narrow range of sources. While postings on social media are performances designed to attract attention, there is an even wider domain in which discourse demands analysis: the crises in the Middle East and Ukraine and the surreal spectacle of the US presidential campaigns, for example, are also highlighting keywords and generating new formulations or reworkings of language – data that mainstream media and lexicographers seem to think unworthy of their attention…
I have written several times on this site about new language and novel forms of expression generated by Generation Z and about how evolving attitudes, fashions and social behaviour among younger cohorts translate into a multimodal mix of verbal and visual on platforms such as TikTok. I have argued that older generations should not ignore or deride the unfamiliar and often baffling messaging practised by ‘the youth’, but try to understand and engage with it. During the slow, fraught, trying first weeks of 2024 the UK’s mainstream media has for the first time begun to pay some attention to the new language appearing online and on the street.
Earlier in the month my friend, Financial Times journalist Emma Jacobs, wrote about intergenerational language differences and resulting misunderstandings in the workplace. Her article, which quotes me, is here…
Dr Christian Ilbury, quoted in that article, added this caveat subsequently: “it’s just HRTs + memetic discourse styles which keep the audience engaged (linked to platform capitalism) not a *new accent*”. Christian had previously helped to explain the latest incarnations of the once taboo c-word…
In distressing contrast, the news cycle has been dominated throughout the month of January, in fact since October last year, by far less frivolous concerns. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict in a very different way has generated language (‘administrative detention’, ‘the other team’, ‘educide’, ‘nakba 2’) – or recycled older terminology (‘ethnic cleansing’, ‘demilitarization’, ‘collateral’) – which is controversial and which demands analysis. While recording the language of Donald Trump, of Brexit and of the Covid pandemic, and once again, while tracking the atrocities taking place today, I have been conscious of distortion, untruths, avoidance and manipulations practised both by the participants in the conflict, by their allies or sponsors, and by those who should be reporting on it objectively and, where possible, impartially. It is by scrutinising their language and treating public and media discourse critically, by exposing bad faith and countering falsehood that linguists can make some small contribution to the global conversation taking place.
Linguists have begun to discuss the ways in which facts and opinions are being presented to the public and to unpack the assumptions and covert intentions of those controlling, or attempting to control the narratives in question…
For my part I am collecting new examples of contentious language relating to the middle eastern crises and adding them to my existing glossary of weaponised words and toxic terminology on this website. I would be very grateful for contributions from readers and will acknowledge these in upcoming posts.
Twitter – a space I value greatly and make use of to keep abreast of cultural, social, political controversies, to exchange facetious remarks and gossip, and, above all, to keep in touch with linguists, writers, influencers, anonymous wits across the virtual globe, has of course been a-buzz with the news that its owner, would-be tech-bro, multi-billionaire Elon Musk, has rebranded the platform as ‘X’.
In ‘linguistic’ terms the X sign is already overburdened with signification – in other words it has an ‘excess’ of potential meanings, so is a very odd choice for a brand in that many of those meanings have negative connotations or connotations of absence, erasure, taboo, cancellation, prohibition, etc, etc. Among the only well-known positive ones are kisses, the marking of the spot on a treasure map and the Christian chi-ro symbol ( ⳩).
Although it can evoke mystery or anonymity, the many meanings of ‘X’ veer strongly towards the antipathetic: the cancellation mark, X-rated, unknown values, in superstition and mysticism death, danger, endings. In branding(!), as it depicts a generic version of the product being promoted—as in “Brand X”—the unidentified product deprecated as inferior to the named brand; it can serve like the asterix in replacing key letters in taboo words, in demographics Generation X is the ill-defined, cohort, adrift and stranded between boomers and millennials. It can suggest the scene of the crime, the sniper’s crosshairs, if multiplied it can describe the strength of strong liquor or moonshine, it can imitate crossed fingers or a puckered or defiant closed mouth. All these and more potential senses of the sign make it both risky and confusing as a solo identifier. Musk’s declared notion that the sign will also remind us of our ‘imperfections’ is putting it very mildly indeed (and who wishes to be reminded of their imperfections every time they log on?). Geeks, nerds, ‘edgelords’ and tech-bros (and nepo-/man-babies too), as we have seen in the case of other dominant brands, have their own , touchingly ingenuous ideas of what is mysterious, evocative, triggering or inspiring. They also have the means to inflict these insights on the wider, often more engaged, more discerning online community…
I spoke to Clare Thorp of BBC Culture about the linguistic implications of the rebranding and Clare’s article is here…
The reaction of the World Wildlife Fund: the German text reads ‘Protect our wildlife before it is too late’
The reactions to the imposition of the new symbol by tweeters/tweeple/the twitterati (what should we call them now?), at least those who inhabit my corner of the platform, has been overwhelmingly negative, hostile and dismissive. Just a very few tech-bros, would-be influencers, crypto-enthusiasts have sympathised with Musk’s declared attempt to re-present the site as a multi-purpose, multimodal platform including new facilities such as banking, investment, dating(?). I have put together a checklist of articles commenting on all aspects of the venture, focusing especially on the symbolism and semiotics of the X itself. A small selection is here..
On 30 July came news of a tagline or slogan designed to accompany ex-Twitter’s new visual identity. The phrase being promoted is ‘Blaze Your Glory’. @SmoothDunk’s response to this was a visual one:
…Other users of the site are fighting back, finding ways to delete or mask the ‘X’ trademark and restore their cherished bird symbol:
I talked to Jim Mora at Radio New Zealand on the same subject on August 4th:
…And, as if to confirm my misgivings about the choice of letter, the Guardian reported on August 8th: ‘Ministers have opened a new vaccine research centre in the UK where scientists will work on preparing for “disease X”, the next potential pandemic pathogen.’
I thought it might be interesting, even informative, to look back from our post-Brexit, post-COVID vantage point in early 2023 to a time before a culture of impunity had become embedded, a time when there still seemed to be a consensus across political persuasions that competence was a first requirement of whoever was elected to govern Britain, (but a time, too, in which there was a feeling among many that profound changes were overdue). In 1997 I made a series of programmes for BBC World Service Radio, looking at how emerging words and phrases seemed to embody novel attitudes on the part of the British. The broadcasts were aimed at listeners outside the UK, although at that time also accessible inside the territory.
The first in a series of short programmes looked at the language of New Labour, at perceptions of a closer relationship between its politicians and what is now called the mainstream media and at the role of the spin doctors (one of the very new formulations heard in those days) responsible for what is now called comms and messaging and for negotiating that rapprochement.
I was fortunate to be able to draw upon insights from Derek Draper, at that time one of New Labour’s highest placed political advisors and lobbyists, journalist and columnist Julia Hobsbawm and writer and critic Peter Bradshaw. Our conclusions were at that time revealing, I think, even if now the notions and the behaviour we were looking at and the terminology that accompanied them have become commonplace.
These recordings were lost for many years, and I am very grateful, both to my then-producer Colin Babb for recovering some of them, and to Urban Mrak who has managed to restore and re-record a small selection of the damaged tapes. The first of them can be accessed here, although the first few seconds during which we listened in the studio to reiterations of the ‘New Labour, New Britain’ mantra are missing…
In the following days I will add two more of these short recordings, dealing, respectively, with the idea that late-90s Britain was experiencing an upsurge in aggressive, selfish behaviour, typified by the new concept of ‘road rage‘, and an increase in female assertiveness caricatured as ‘girl power‘.
‘Expert commentary’ on a volatile, contentious process
I was somewhat bemused to be asked, as a linguist and someone who has written about government communications and messaging, to comment recently, this time on the self-presentation of the candidates vying for leadership of the Conservative Party, hence also for the role of Prime Minister of the UK (in a series of back-and-forth slurs and clumsily staged photo-opportunities characterised today by Cabinet Office Minister Johnny Mercer as ‘puerile’). My first observations concerned Foreign Secretary Liz Truss’s identification with an earlier political icon.*
These were my comments in answer to the Daily Mail‘s questions on the performance of Lizz Truss and Rishi Sunak in the latest and final stages of the contest…
Both candidates seem to me to be reaching for very simple and basic images and messages – not complex or ‘deeper’ concepts and as a linguist I suspect that they are both trying to avoid having to demonstrate the ‘oratorical’ skills that Boris Johnson’s supporters claimed for him. In other words they are going for visual over verbal as neither of them is renowned as an inspiring public speaker.
In terms of oratorical skills or lack of them Liz Truss has been gaffe-prone and can come across as hesitant while Rishi Sunak, though articulate, has to avoid the impression of an over-eager schoolboy in his attempts to convince.
In terms of the core messages, Rishi Sunak is very obviously trying to counter the sense of him as someone removed from the concerns of ordinary people because of his privileged upbringing and his great wealth. Thus he emphasises the (quite authentic) role of the family man, devoted to wife and children, at the same time countering Truss’s projection of herself as an assertive ‘lone’ female – the image Margaret Thatcher conveyed in her exercising dominance over male colleagues. Thatcher also kept husband and children in the background and emphasised her own gravitas and steeliness above all else.
Pulling pints is another attempt by Sunak to demonstrate that he is not wholly out of touch with the ‘common man’, but this sort of posing does risk backfiring as when he fumbled in his attempts to use a bank debit card to buy fuel for a humble, borrowed car.
I’m surprised that Sunak does not more strongly emphasise his financial background and expertise gained as a financier/fund manager (the sort of professional experience that Liz Truss would have trouble competing with), but he may rightly sense that public perceptions of hedge fund manipulators are far from entirely positive.
Both candidates are attempting to focus, as they must, on the universally understandable issues of taxation and immigration/refugee management, subjects on which those entitled to vote for them (a very small number of key individuals incidentally) are already likely to have very firm views.
I added the following…
I don’t wish to seem contentious or uncharitable, but their messaging – in both cases – really does leave much to be desired, beginning with the campaign slogans, ‘Ready for Rishi!’ and ‘Liz for Leader.’
On Rishi Sunak’s part, his public postures belie the fact that he is, among many other things, a teetotaller…
And as for Ms Truss…
Which approach, I was asked, was likely to play out better with the 1600 party members entitled to vote in the leadership contest?
I think it’s very difficult to predict: I suspect that many Tories will still instinctively prefer the certainty and strength of purpose that Margaret Thatcher represented – the steely glare rather than the eager-to-please smile. But perhaps on reflection they may come to decide that someone at ease with financial manipulations (public or private!), and someone who is not really encumbered with ideological baggage could be more convincing in the long run and a safer pair of hands? It’s perhaps reassuring and worth noting that those two ancient bugbears of British political life, ethnicity and gender, probably are no longer barriers to advancement.
This is how my remarks were incorporated into the Mail’s front page of July 25 2022…
Looking back at my comments while awaiting the general election in July 2024, it’s clear that I was too kind to both the then leadership candidates. This was in part because I can’t pose as a political expert, partly as I don’t think the Daily Mail would have printed my comments if they had been much harsher. Liz Truss went on to perform surreally badly as shortlived PM, then, in more recent comments, to astonish many by her seeming intellectual confusion and lack of self-awareness. Rishi Sunak, in my strictly personal view, has shown above all an astonishing immaturity, in his parliamentary and media performances and his interactions with the public. His and his party’s communications strategies, despite the complicity of most of the the UK’s mainstream media, have been clumsy and inept. The press and the opposition equally have failed to hold him to account, focusing on his role as member of a hedge fund that helped trigger the 2008 financial crash only in the run-up to the coming election.
– Jon Birch, channelling Turing and repurposing the Enigma machine
The UK government’s handling of the information transfer required in a national emergency has differed significantly from the strategies employed in other states. While Donald Trump has used the White House ‘pressers’ to expound a bewildering sequence of personal claims, accusations and commentaries, and Angela Merkel has favoured occasional official announcements via mainstream and social media, the government at Westminster has relied on daily televised briefings to keep the public informed of progress in combatting the pandemic and to advise on regulations and desirable behaviour.
After more than two months there has been a chance to reflect on the official recommendations and diktats and to assess their consistence and credibility. It is not clear exactly who is responsible for the drafting of messages or the invention of rallying cries and slogans. The ‘comms’ (communications, including information dissemination and public relations) team probably consists of activists involved in the Brexit Vote Leave campaign, ‘spads’ (unelected special advisors to ministers and the cabinet), spin-doctors and civil service speechwriters from relevant departments, (oversight by the GCS – Government Communication Service – is unconfirmed) *. With an admixture of improvisations by the prime minister and cabinet members, the UK comms have been, in the view of many, a disaster.**
The details, including key statistics, have changed and mutated (at the end of June the two-metre social distancing rule was replaced by Boris Johnson’s advice to switch to ‘one metre plus’), the tactical positions adopted have pivoted and stalled, the advice has often been bewildering or contradictory. Underlying themes may have shown more consistency, but consistency can describe a dependency on metaphors which may be unhelpful or confusing – above all the reframing of attempts to contain and overcome the virus as a ‘war’, with ‘heroes’, ‘non-combatants’ and hapless, tragic victims*** – the virus itself personified as an ‘invisible mugger’ who can be ‘wrestled to the floor’ by ‘have a go’ heroism.
With no other way of influencing events experts and non-specialists have taken to social media to critique and mock the successive claims. Professor Elena Semino declared herself ‘puzzled that the UK Prime Minister keeps referring to his government’s covid-related policies as ‘putting our arms around the public’, adding ‘Embodied simulation would be uncomfortable at the best of times, but now?!?’ Manchester Professor of Government Colin Talbot countered a succession of official claims on Twitter:
We need more testing. We’ll do 100,000 tests a day. You’re failing to do that. We’ll do 200,000 tests a day. We need to track and trace. We’ll have an app to do that. It not working We’ll set up a service to do that You haven’t
We’ll set up a world beating…
It is not only the verbal cues and rhetorical devices that have been deployed to manipulate, to confuse and to evade, but the visual signals, displays and symbology used, consciously or not, to influence and convince.****
– Alex Andreou, on the ‘Stay Alert’ slogan
In a short interview last week I offered my own take on the evolution of covid-related language (as detailed in my two previous posts on this site) and a duty for linguists to become involved in scrutinising, clarifying and where necessary criticising the content of the present infodemic…
As was the case in the national conversation on Brexit the transmission and reception of official messages has been complicated by the role of some MSM (mainstream media) representatives, derided by their critics as ‘client journalists’, ‘courtier journalists’ and ‘stenographers’, in uncritically passing on information, seeming actively to endorse or promote the government line and failing to hold obfuscators or outright liars to account. This will be the subject of an upcoming article on this site.
*** linguists, among them my colleagues at King’s College London, have now begun to analyse the deeper implications of the figurative language employed in official discourse. I will be posting their findings once they become available. Here is one such report, from an Australian perspective…
A perhaps minor example of injudicious choice of words, and conflicting nuances of meaning and connotation, in July 2020. The bilateral travel agreements between states opening borders after lockdown were described by the UK government as air bridges. This term had until now more usually referred to a covered passage by which travellers can pass from an airport building to an aircraft. In more difficult times it had denoted a connection by air between locations divided by sea or by foreign occupation. It is just possible, too, that the phrase might prompt memories of the very expensive, ultimately abandoned ‘garden bridge’ proposed by PM Boris Johnson for the Thames in London, or even the fantasies alluded to by ‘castles in the air’. In the event two different lists of permitted connections were published by the government leading to angry confusion on the part of travellers, airlines and the tourist industry. Led I think by the Foreign Office, from July 3rd official messaging quietly began to substitute the more literal designation international travel corridors.
On July 13 the government launched a new publicity campaign designed to inform businesses and the public on how travel will change after Brexit. Their latest gnomic slogan ‘Check, Change, Go’ and jargon formulations such as ‘field force team’ (for one-to-one telephone consultations) provoked widespread disbelief and mockery on social media, and puzzled consternation from exporters, importers and others. The spoof newspaper the Daily Mash commented (rudely and irreverently)…
Later the same day erstwhile Tory-supporting Daily Mailjournalist Dan Hodges tweeted: ‘Got to be honest, I’ve no idea what Government guidance is on anything any more. Masks. Distancing. Numbers of friends you can meet. When and where you can meet them. Going back to work. None of it. Clear Ministers have basically given up on trying to agree a coherent line.’
Philip Seargeant of the Open University, with whom I have collaborated, has written here on the contradiction between populist narratives and the kind of communications required to manage a crisis such as the pandemic…
…in September I was going to update this page with comments on the latest government initiatives, but Imogen West-Knights beat me to it with this Guardian piece (which mentions the ludicrously named ‘Op Moonshot’ project)…
Pivoting and reassessments, rumours of upcoming changes and irregular official announcements continued through the autumn into the winter. Having introduced a system of three tiered categories of local restrictions the government announced a relaxing over the five days of Christmas festivities, then on 19 December leaks via obscure social media accounts suggested the placing of London into a new Tier 4, prompting irreverent comment on Twitter…
From Jonathan Nunn: “imagine inventing a tier system that divides the entire spectrum of conceivable events into three distinct categories, only to make a new tier to describe the unforeseen way you’ve fucked it”
From Piers Morgan: “We’re now at the stage of this pandemic where it’s safe to assume with 100% certainty that whatever Boris ‘U-turn’ Johnson promises about anything actually means the complete opposite will happen.”
From Becca Magnus: “Ah the good old days of waiting for press conferences while obsessively refreshing Twitter. Takes me back all those years ago to March.”
The new stipulations meant that in London and the South East four different Covid restriction policies had been imposed in 4 weeks…
In January 2021, after more shifts and a last-minute volte-face, a new ‘tier 5’ nationwide lockdown was imposed. The Prime Minister’s briefings announcing this and other reverses and innovations were mocked in posts circulating on social media…
Also in January 2021 theGuardian offered a rare insight into the personalities involved, the prevailing ethos and the strategies pursued by the UK government in their attempts to manage communications…
In February 2021 this video (I’m not sure of the exact provenance) dramatising the government’s pivoting and conflicting advice was circulating on social media…
In February 2021 there was much debate, on Twitter and elsewhere, of the government’s roadmap out of lockdown, of what exactly a roadmap is and how it might differ from a plan. Roadmaps (the most influential probably being Donald Rumsfeld’s pathway out of the Middle East imbroglios in 2003) are used in corporate strategy, usually as statements of a series of achievements to be aimed for, without waystage dates or details, but that is not the point: ‘roadmap’ is a buzzword evoking a way ahead, a potential route and an intention to travel, all reassuring for those who are lost, adrift or stalled.
Many specialists and members of the public, too, were aghast at the government’s rhetoric around the notion of ‘Freedom Day’, a more or less complete, and overnight relaxation of protective restrictions proposed for July 19. The consistency of the chosen keywords characteristically began to unravel, as Professor Alice Roberts noted on July 11, ‘What does this actually mean? Is vigilant this year’s “alert”? How does vigilance help protect against an airborne virus when a government is not recommending and supporting effective mitigations…’ and Guardian journalist Sirin Kale commented two days later (quoted with her permission), ‘I see the government is trying to row back their Freedom Day messaging at the 11th hour just 2 weeks after senior ministers briefed they wouldn’t be wearing masks indoors any more. You’d think they’d have learned the dangers of conflicting messages after the Xmas fiasco but nope’
In September 2021, following revelations by government aide Dominic Cummings of his employers’ vacillation and incompetence, a second ousted advisor, Lee Cain, broke silence to excoriate the teams working on communications during the pandemic:
In the autumn of 2021 the public became aware of a ‘Plan B’, supposedly to be implemented in the event of a new surge (which was already, some said, happening). The exact details of this plan were not specified in any official communications and the press and public were left to speculate. A few new restrictions were introduced in late November, perhaps prompted by concern at still rising infection rates in schools and elsewhere, though ventilation in schools was not among them, then in the second week of December, as the Omicron variant spread to general alarm, Plans ‘C’ and ‘D’ implying successively stricter moves towards a lockdown were mooted. On 12 December emergency measures (presumed to be a version of Plan B) focusing on encouraging the takeup of booster shots were announced. On Twitter the next morning Russ Jones commented, ‘Plan B was drawn up 5 months ago. That’s how long they’ve had to plan for it. They gave the NHS 4 hours warning that they’d need to do 1 million tests a day, the booking website crashed cos nobody thought to upgrade it, and we ran out of lateral flow tests within 3 hours.’
In February 2023 Dr Philip Seargeant (with whom I have collaborated, notably on the Language of Lying project, featured elsewhere on this site) published his review of the UK government’s handling of the pandemic, focusing on its communications strategies and manipulation of public discourse:
At the beginning of March 2023 Isabel Oakeshott, ghostwriter of former UK Health Secretary Matt Hancock‘s pandemic diary, engineered the release of private messages exchanged by Hancock with then PM Boris Johnson, former Education Secretary Gavin Williamson and others at the beginning of the COVID crisis. The Daily Mail asked me to comment on the language used in these, and their article (punctuation errors and typos are not mine) is here:
Articles published earlier this week reignited debate about punctuation – one of the favourite subjects for online peevers and pedantic Twitterati. The articles seemed to be suggesting that traditional punctuation, or some of its components, could now be misinterpreted or convey quite different meanings to those originally intended.
The articles in fact were focusing on the full-stop or period as used in messaging apps, in particular on WhatsApp. Younger users of the platform reported that a full-stop at the end of a message indicated aggression, grumpiness or passive-aggression, as opposed to the neutral finality signalled in more traditional contexts.
And this – context – is the key. The young devotees of messaging apps are unconcerned with the formal written English demanded in the case of essays, business letters, reports, even mainstream journalism. Their interactions are happening somewhere else and intended to achieve something else, too. My 20 year-old son tells me that his messaging environments simply make traditional usages redundant – and worse, if applied they cause misunderstandings in tone and affect.
Mentioning this on Twitter provoked this response: ‘I’m Gen X — part of the generation that invented the internet. As the late Rutger Hauer said, “I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.” My cohort literally invented all internet and messaging and texting traditions. Some spotty oik’s opinion is non-salient.’
Some other older internet and phone users were equally indignant, fearing they were being required to adopt the sloppy or unconventional habits of callow youth, but if we’re having to message across generations (which probably happens rarely anyway) we/they won’t make the same assumptions/impose our conventions on one another, surely?
Like all instances of language in use the language of messaging is context-sensitive and depends on interlocutors’ intentions, assumptions and reception of the ‘utterances’ in question. We adjust our conventions to accommodate – if we can, so we should indeed worry about full-stops, but only on WhatsApp, Facebook Messaging or Instagram.
The crucial point is that the electronic communications we are considering, although they have to be typed, are not examples of writing as we know it, but of something else. Messaging is effectively a verbal imitation of the very rapid to-and-fro of informal speech and that’s what it tries to render with its novel disregard of commas, colons and semi-colons, ellipses (the … that I am addicted to) and its innovative play with capitals, full-stops and exclamation marks. The notorious initials and acronyms – LOL, SMH, POS and the like – were invented in order to cope with accelerated exchanges, although my children tell me that this abbreviation style is ‘very 2012’ and ‘so over’. Like many grownups I came to it much too late and was humiliated on national radio for thinking SMH meant ‘same here’, as mischievous young informants had told me (for the uninitiated it means ‘shaking my head’ in disbelief or exasperation). I do still use IMHO (in my humble opinion) when pontificating on Twitter. If feeling particularly passive-aggressive, IMVHO.
Because neither conventional writing nor sparse message-speak can convey the tone and import of this kind of conversation, emoji are required to compensate for body language, tone of voice, etc. Emoji can to some extent contribute the missing tonal and affective dimension to digital text but there is still no easy way to flag sarcasm, for example (I never ever come across ~*~sparkle sarcasm~*~ punctuation, or the 2011 attempt at a sarcasm font using back-sloping italics).
The two recent articles that triggered the latest debates were from the BBC website:
I talked on BBC Radio about the full-stop and the punctuation age-gap and a vox-pop carried out by the BBC in Derry confirmed that, at least in that city, younger messagers and texters were all familiar with the new conventions and with the misunderstandings that could arise.
One year later the punctuation issues were still being debated on Twitter, and summaries posted to help teachers and students. One such is here, from Rhona Graham at Queen Mary: