TikTok

LANGUAGE AND LONGEVITY – 2

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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.

Chloe’s piece is here…

https://www.theguardian.com/media/2024/nov/02/what-a-privilege-trend-catches-on-as-gratitude-makes-social-media-comeback?CMP=share_btn_url

And the Newsweek article is here…

https://www.newsweek.com/2024-most-popular-internet-slang-words-revealed-1978732

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…

https://twitter.com/CollinsDict/status/1852139743112208794

LANGUAGE AND LONGEVITY -1

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Digital media enables language change and innovation – of course, but how much and for how long?

I spoke to Caitlin Talbot, Culture Researcher for the Economist magazine, who asked me about the effect of TikTok talk and the slang, catchphrases and viral puns invented by Gen Z. Caitlin wondered how many new terms were actually being added to the global conversation each year, and whether these novelties would last.

My own solo attempts to record new language and to understand and comment on its sources rely on fairly haphazard, old-fashioned techniques, so it’s not possible for me to quantify the lexical items, locutions, expressions and longer elements of discourse that I come across. The major dictionary publishers do have access to powerful and sophisticated electronic methods of scanning, scraping (‘aggregating’ as it should more properly be termed) raw linguistic data from across the internet. This material can be categorised to a certain extent and entered into giant databanks from which lexicographers can select the terms they periodically admit into published dictionaries.

Attempts to amass and analyse examples of language in use are nonetheless hampered by several considerations: the language in question is primarily in the form of text, rather than authentic speech, and the texts in question are largely recoverable from published sources and media platforms, only to a limited extent from personal messages. Tracking their use over time is possible, and the popularity of some usages can be subjected to frequency counts and represented on timelines, but private use and communications by local and specialist communities is far harder to assess. One of the more interesting challenges to the lexicographer is to predict which novel terms may become embedded in the national conversation and which drop out of use – some almost immediately and others over time. In fact my experience (since I began to collect slang in the 1980s) proves that it’s impossible to predict, let alone to speculate as to why this happens.

Caitlin’s article, with useful links, is here…(if it is paywalled for you, go to here *)

TikTok is changing how Gen Z speaks

In speculating about the number of new terms generated (and the playful, sometimes absurdist tendencies featuring on social media involve not only inventing new terms but reworking and re-purposing existing language like ‘demure’, ‘babygirl’, ‘millennial pause’, etc.) we can only fall back on subjective, anecdotal, incomplete accounts, even if these may be interesting and informative in their way…

TikTok Slang: The Exclusive Language of Gen Z (Study)

TikTok is full of made-up slang and trendbait | Vox

* TikTok is changing how Gen Z speaks

On social media new words spread far and fast

The illustration shows a playful evolution of speech bubble characters, progressing from a small, four-legged figure to a larger one riding a skateboard, against a bold red background
Illustration: Mark Long

Oct 21st 2024SavedShareGive

THE WORD “demure” is old—it describes the sort of modest lady Victorians esteemed—but it is freshly fashionable. There are some 800,000 posts on TikTok with the tag #demure. Youngsters today are using the word with lashings of irony, invoking it to describe everything from Saturn to sunset to New York City’s bin service.

TikTok is changing how young people talk. Other fusty words, such as “coquette”, are fashionable again. Colloquialisms are on the rise: members of Gen Z say “yapping” instead of “talking” and trim “delusional” to “delulu”. New words have also become popular. Take “skibidi”, a term popularised by a meme of an animated head singing in a toilet; it means “cool”, “bad” or “very”, depending on the context.

On social media words spread far and fast. At least 100 English words are produced, or given new meaning, on TikTok a year, reckons Tony Thorne, director of the Slang and New Language Archive at King’s College London. Some linguists think the platform is changing not just what youngsters are saying, but how they are saying it. A “TikTok accent”, which includes “uptalk”, an intonation that rises at the end of sentences, may be spreading.

The platform’s versatility encourages experimentation. Users can combine audio, text and video in a single post. That means words that sound especially satisfying can go viral, as well as those that are memorable in written form. Linguistic code has emerged, dubbed “algospeak”, to dodge content-moderation algorithms. It includes euphemisms (sex workers are called “accountants”), and misspellings (“seggs” instead of sex).

The mutation of language on TikTok is also due, in large part, to the age of its users. Most are 18-34 years old. That matters because “Young people are language innovators,” says Christian Ilbury, a linguist at the University of Edinburgh. For decades youngsters have created words to distinguish themselves from adults. On social media such neologisms find a big audience. Mr Ilbury describes this as “linguistic identity work”; parents have long called it attention-seeking.

The platform brings together fan groups and communities, from #kpopfans (people who like Korean pop music) to #booktokers (people who love reading). These groups create their own slang, says Adam Aleksic, a linguist and influencer. Some of it leaks into the mainstream. Other slang comes from specific groups: black people have innovated and spread hundreds of English words over the years, from “cool” to “tea” (gossip). Journalists and screenwriters popularise such words; now TikTokers do, too.

*For help in understanding the language and online mannerisms of TikTok and GenZ, I’m grateful to my daughter, Daisy Thorne Mrak*

SLANG AT THE END OF SUMMER

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Teen talk continues to baffle older cohorts, but as autumn approaches the vibes shift – and Tiktok identities evolve…

In mid-August I talked to Mary McCarthy about the ever-changing patterns of youth language, and, with her kind permission, Mary’s article for the Irish Independent follows…

No cap, sigma and rizz? You’ll need more than Google Translate for teen talk now

Parents are supposed to be bemused by the slang words their children use, but the new summer vocab in our house has me totally flummoxed. This is particularly so with the younger two lads – eight and 11 – who walk around saying nonsense words like “sigma”, “no cap” “Skibidi Toilet” and “gyat” all the time.

I don’t mind them having in-jokes, and it’s nice to see them falling around laughing – I’ll take that over sullen moods any day. But what are they laughing about?

Are they being kind? I can see the pleasure of getting the giggles over absurd stuff. I used to have this thing with a school friend where we would say repeatedly “The dog is dead” in a Northern Ireland accent – no idea why. But there is so much coming at them now online. How can I know they won’t soak up the wrong messages? The Andrew Tate alpha-male rubbish, for example.

This week I hired my Gen Z 16-year-old to help me decode what his brothers were saying, and he pocketed his €5 before unhelpfully telling me that “it’s just little kids saying random, mental stuff”.

“It’s the internet, it’s TikTok language,” he said. But they don’t have TikTok, I reminded him. YouTube shorts are the same and they have a lot of that, he told me darkly.

So I asked the lads themselves, and they were fairly keen to enlighten me, which was reassur­ing. “No cap” means no lying, “sigma” just means cool (no Andrew Tate alpha-male link, thank goodness) and rizz is “charisma”.

My 11-year-old elaborated. “So, this would be a chat-up line like, ‘Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see’.” I’m unsure what to say. They refused to explain “gyat”, so I looked it up later.

It mostly seems fine. They’re getting it from pals and YouTube shorts, which I will limit more now. But what I’m most baffled about is the Skibidi Toilet YouTube show, and why they call everything Skibidi for no reason.

The show has amassed over 65 billion views over the last year, and I can’t see any pull factor. It’s about toilets with human heads engaged in a war with people who have CCTV cameras for heads, all set in a dystopian landscape. Apparently, there will be a TV show and a movie. I had a headache watching it after 30 seconds.

Youth slang can spread very quickly these days via online platforms and messaging

It’s everywhere. We were on holiday in Kerry a few weeks ago and had a few hours to kill in Kenmare, so we visited the Kenmare Stone Circle, which was erected some time between 2000 and 500 BC. If you clip a wish at the Hawthorn Fairy Tree, it comes true. That’s according to the man working there, who handed us a piece of paper and a pen.

Being my nosy self, I immediately started reading other people’s wishes, and among the pleas for health, happiness and planning permission there were lots of Skibidi.

“Sigma, sigma on the wall, who is the Skibiest of them all?” one card read.

“Desidere che i cani diventine Skibidy Toilet,” read another, which Google translate told me was “Wish that dogs become Skibidy toilets” in Italian. So it’s not just my children larking around. I’m sure it’s all just a silly phase, perhaps the same as my own “the dog is dead”.

Tony Thorne, director of the Slang and New Language Archive at King’s College London, said young people have always created their own language to keep outsiders like parents and teachers out. It just happens that there’s more around today.

“This language innovation, as linguists call it, used to take place in private spaces and only sometimes spread further – if, for example, the language was used in music or movies or TV comedies,” he said.

“Youth slang can spread very quickly these days via online platforms and messaging and so can become global. Terms often coined in the US rapidly move into the Anglosphere. We see that in the huge network of English speakers who converse excitedly in ‘mid-Atlantic’ accents.”

Thorne recommends the guide to teenage slang on the Gabb.com website. I soon discovered that “gyat” is a way to express admiration, usually for a woman’s backside. So I nipped that one in the bud.

It is a habit for parents and the older generation to laugh at teenagers for speaking in a frivolous way

Once you start researching the origins of these words, it gets interesting. According to a recent Forbes article on how Gen Z language is changing the workplace, to “slay” – which is something my 13-year-old daughter says, as in “You slayed that lasagne, Mammy” – means “high praise” and originated in black and LGBTQ+ communities before gaining popularity on TikTok.

I can’t remember using much slang as a teen, apart from the many violent descriptions we had for being drunk, among them flutered, slaughtered, battered and trollied.

My cousin would visit from Canada, and she loved hearing those terms. Today, though, there’s no difference between what a 15-year-old in Dublin and a 15-year-old in Toronto is exposed to, and they’re the more creative for this. After all, the way we learn to speak is from listening to other people, so we probably don’t really need to worry much about the slang.

Kevin Barry, former professor of English at the University of Galway, said that while adults can see it as foolish, there’s a wisdom to the newly minted words and phrases.

“It is a habit for parents and the older generation to laugh at teenagers for speaking in a frivolous way – to the adults it makes no sense. What they are seeing is the frontier of language change, which is a creative Wild West,” he said.

There’s no point trying to keep up. New slang will be coined as fast as I learn. We can’t police it. The only thing to do is role-model IRL (in real life) what it is to be a nice person. To not shout, to be kind, to make time for the children. To let them know you have high expectations for their behaviour by having high expectations for your own – no cap.

The dominance of memes and viral posts from the USA celebrating a brat summer was challenged in late August by a TikTok injunction to ‘be demure and mindful‘ in all one’s actions and representations. Alternative and mainstream media jumped quickly aboard the accelerating bandwagon – and Ellie Bramley of the Guardian asked me to comment…

‘Demure‘ is a seemingly prim and dated adjective, used recently only by rueful babyboomers and tabloid journalists, for whom it is code for ‘not completely undressed’ when describing female celebrities attending film festivals, tottering along red carpets and catwalks. In drag queen and ‘ballroom LGBT‘ circles, though, it has long featured as a self-mocking keyword when urging the outrageous, usually ironically and teasingly, to behave with modesty and decorum. It is in this spirit that ‘fierce divas’ and other influencers have relaunched the term, along with ‘mindful‘ in its older sense (before the advent of self-seeking ‘mindfulness’) of considerate, respectful and cautious. The Guardian piece is here…

It’s very easy to dismiss GenZ and TikTok fads as shallow, ephemeral provocations, unworthy of the attention of rational adults. Easy, too, to deride aged babyboomers like me who record them and attempt to analyse the thinking behind them. But as Ellie herself remarked, a keyword like ‘demure’, inasfar as it isn’t just an absurdist gesture, can not only signify a genuine shift in self-awareness on the part of a few influential online individuals, but can prompt reflection and even changes in behaviour among a much larger segment of the population.

With that in mind, from Laura Pitcher, here’s Dazed‘s perceptive take on the word of the moment…

https://www.dazeddigital.com/life-culture/article/64378/1/demure-mindful-tiktok-owns-an-internet-buzzword

In September I was interviewed by Mary Ugbodaga about a slang acronym in use in Nigeria…

WSG meaning: what does the acronym mean and how to respond – Legit.ng



After language?

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The latest multimodalities examined

During October I relished the chance to talk to the editors of DazedDigital, Serena Smith and Gunseli Yalcinkaya, and they told me about the most recent developments in online and digital communication and the new language varieties trending on social media. I have tried to make sense of a much younger generation’s performances and interactions and the notes I made follow here…

 Language and the way we use it is now for the first time truly globalised. This means for example that new accents and intonations and vocal affectations take place across several cultures almost simultaneously. This gives us pronunciation and intonation novelties like Youtuber or Influencer accent, TikTok voice, etc. These are fluid, evolving and can blend more than one traditional source (UK and US linguistic styles and usages for example). The phenomenon is not new – the mid-Atlantic accent dates back many decades and both Valley Girls and users of Multiethnic London English – MLE – have played with new ways of pronouncing, but the platforms and apps of the 2020s – TikTok in particular – highlight these…

Obviously the way we consume and exploit media has changed radically with the internet and mobile technology and determines the kinds of messages we exchange and the words, sounds and visuals we actually use. Short attention-spans mean that messages need to be accelerated, brief and telling: the constraints of apps and platforms make for compressed and dense information packages.  At the same time the imperative for innovation​ (something that has always been part of language evolution, but used to happen very gradually) – novelty, neologisms, new and more liberated attitudes to formality and informality and style in general – is integral to changing fashions, aesthetics, vibes. Even such basics as whether messages have to make sense have been destabilised by Gen Z‘s playful surrealism and absurdism and TikTok’s creative conventions.

One major change is the way that the distinction between written and spoken language has broken down since people began to type conversations and exchange rapid interactions electronically. Also Pre-existing words and expressions are hijacked, reversed, toxified, appropriated and modified as never before. And we all​ now have the power to do this via electronic media – we don’t need permission to publish and exchange our ideas and indulge our playful, mischievous or creative new usages.

Gunceli asked, There are so many memes joking about how we’ve ‘progressed past the need for language’. Obviously worth taking with a pinch of salt, but do you think there’s any truth to this? 

We won’t evolve ‘beyond language’ since language is simply a label for human interaction and communicative practices, but the specifics of that language will continue to adapt and mutate along with our social needs and our technologies. Linguists do talk increasingly in terms of multimodality whereby both online and offline communication involves much more than speech or writing – ‘language’ as we have known it. The buzzword multimodality can refer to how IRL we blend all sorts of semiotics often simultaneously: stance and posture, facial expression, gesture, writing, speaking and using a communication device, but also refers to how online and app messages employ abbreviations, acronyms, audio, video, symbols, memes as well as or instead of words (…soon probably touch and smell as well!)

The NPC streamers phenomenon highlighted by Dazed is another example of what I described as GenZ and TikTokers’ minimalist, surrealist or absurdist treatment of language. NPC stands for ‘non-playable character(s)’, the digital background entities with a limited repertoire of utterances and repetitive actions encountered in video games, and the streaming is an online activity, primarily on the TikTok platform, whereby creators imitate these characters by livestreaming themselves, and viewers reward them with in-app gifts for doing it.

The new primacy of image (and audio) over simply text and conversation has resulted in a human imitation of cartoon sounds and seemingly meaningless bits of language that only followers and enthusiasts will recognise and be positively triggered by. Playing with identities by way of words, slogans, soundbites and catchphrases is as much influenced by the poses of cosplayers or Furries and the behaviour of video-gamers as it is by ‘traditional’ ways of using verbal and visual language.

How do you think the mainstreaming of emerging tech like AI is changing the way we communicate verbally with one another?

Algorithms being used for automated reasoning and the generating of persuasive messaging or content are already operating at sophisticated levels, but the linguistic aspect is just as much prey to error and detectable failures as, for example, deepfake images and impersonations of artistic productions. If we are digitally literate and managing to keep up, we can often see through the deception, and this is probably reassuring. AI has some interesting potential: for example, to allow us to communicate with people whose language we don’t share. But I think the limitations of AI(-its difficulties in interpreting or reproducing human nuance, implication, indirectness, etc) will lead to – is already leading to – new forms of incoherence and misunderstanding. I suspect we will soon be able to recognise a particular ‘AI style’ so that artificially generated messages can be recognised as such in some cases – at least I hope so! Translators and teachers are already grappling with potential of AI to assist, supplement or replace their work – and its limitations in doing so. More alarmingly AI is already inventing and using languages that we humans can’t understand: https://www.fastcompany.com/90132632/ai-is-inventing-its-own-perfect-languages-should-we-let-it

Gunceli’s fascinating review of all these themes and more is here…

https://www.dazeddigital.com/life-culture/article/61151/1/blessed-and-emoji-pilled-why-language-online-is-so-absurd?utm_term=blessed-and-emoji-pilled-why-language-online-is-so-absurd&utm_content=buffer26db7&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter&utm_campaign=dazedtw

Serena Smith spoke to me about the latest version of familect, the intimate, informal, often comical language invented in private domestic spaces, about which I’ve written before on this site. Her excellent account of TikTok’s #MarriageLanguage is here…

https://www.dazeddigital.com/life-culture/article/61152/1/marriage-language-why-do-couples-talk-like-that-familect-tiktok?utm_term=marriage-language-why-couples-develop-their-own-dialects&utm_content=bufferb39d1&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter&utm_campaign=dazedtw

LANGUAGE, ‘AESTHETICS’ AND INNOVATION IN 2022 – THE ROLE OF GEN Z

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Fads, Fashions, Lifestyles and Vibes – thirty years on

During 2022 I wrote several times about the new terminology that has been generated by younger generations’ (younger Millennials and so-called Gen Z or Zoomers) online celebration of an accelerated series of Fads, Fashions and Cults (the title of my book on the same topic published back in 1993). I was bemused, but not surprised that my articles and posts received little attention. Those over 40, even if active online or otherwise in touch with the wider culture, seem to pay no attention to what their children and grandchildren are saying, or perhaps just view their activities on social media as trivial, frivolous and ephemeral*. It’s slightly absurd that someone of my advanced age should be trying to record and comment on youth-based popular culture, but, just as back in the nineties, only a few fashionistas and influencers and a handful of style journalists manage to achieve any sort of critical perspective on the high-speed succession of poses, performances and pastiches that plays out on 21st century cyberspaces (and incidentally in teenagers’ bedrooms and college dorms too).

At the end of the year, however, I was asked to contribute to a major press review of these same phenomena, and discussed them with the MailOnline’s science reporter, Fiona Jackson. Fiona had picked up on recent mutations in slang and online jargon, in the novel use of emoji and punctuation, and changes, too, in the accents and intonations used on platforms such as TikTok – in particular the voice affectation known as ‘vocal fry.’

It’s interesting that Gen Z is seen as having a particularly exotic or impenetrable vocabulary, baffling and irritating parents, teachers, journalists and anyone too old to keep up. Inventing new words and changing the meanings of old ones, though, is something that each generation does (see UK millennials with their MLE – Multiethnic London English) and is a natural part of language. Accent is another essential component in curating and projecting one’s identity. ‘Vocal fry’ or ‘creaky voice’ first got noticed and was fiercely debated in the USA in 2015. The low, raspy growling voice tone favoured by female US celebrities has since been imitated by some younger people in the UK, and by British ‘influencers’ online, but not to the same extent. What I have noticed is not specifically vocal fry but something newer and more complex: a UK accent favoured by fashionable younger females which mixes a sort of high-pitched, lisping breathless ‘girly’ delivery with a lower-pitched drawl that can slide in and out of American intonations. Something like this is now prevalent, particularly on TikTok which is where Gen Z goes to influence and be influenced.

In the US now 63% of people aged 13 to 17 use TikTok weekly, a rate that now tops both Snapchat and Instagram. TikTok is also the go-to environment for the celebration of youth fads, fashions and lifestyle trends, not to mention the parodies, mash-ups, spoofs and in-jokes which are central to its video performances. Older people trying to keep up or simply to comprehend what is happening on TikTok or understand what Gen Z is saying and messaging should however beware: I have a suspicion, shared by a few other commentators, that many of the fads, fashions and trends they celebrate (they call them ‘vibes’ or ‘aesthetics’) are not really taken seriously at all by most of them, are passing fancies or simply spoofs perhaps designed to mock the tedious concerns of outdated millennials. Fashionable new ‘looks’ like so-called ‘goblin-mode’ which has, unusually, been noticed and publicised in the mainstream, have been appearing and disappearing on Gen Z platforms with a bewildering speed (see ‘cottagecore’, ‘blokecore’, ‘hag chic’, ‘frazzled English woman’, etc.).

The MailOnline article is here…

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-11541685/How-Generation-Z-changed-communicate.html

…and my articles from 2022 are here…

Tick Tock, TikTok

DO TRY TO KEEP UP

Gen Z, as they come of age and begin to access power and influence in mainstream society, will inevitably affect the way we collectively behave and of course communicate. But there is an interesting phenomenon that those like me who try to track slang and new language have to face up to. That is that it’s quite impossible to predict exactly how language is going change. No so-called linguistic authorities have ever been able to guess how technology and society is going to mutate, or how fast, or which aspects of human behaviour will come to predominate in the future – even in the near-future. Gen Z may settle down into family life and work and become distracted by adult responsibilities, just as we once-radical Boomers, muted, tortured Gen X and much misunderstood millennials have done before them. Or perhaps they will not, and will manage to realise the boomers’ dream of staying radical, innovative and young forever? How their destiny plays out will dictate what they say and how they say it (and they will have to find ways to negotiate their obsessions and describe their changing environments), but I, for one, don’t dare to hazard any more than that.

*She’s much younger than 40, but journalist Marie le Conte struck a contrarian note in the New Statesman, suggesting that we shouldn’t be interested in Gen Z’s predilections…

Its finger still on the pulse of the zeitgeist, the Mail followed up with a warning to older generations that Gen Z disapprove not only of their language and their emoji use, but of their gesturing too (unsurprisingly the hand-signals castigated are all part of my own sad repertoire)…

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11627655/Generation-Z-reveal-hand-gestures-cool.html

Last summer the Daily Mash had issued another (spoof) warning to the middle-aged, this time of Gen Z‘s behaviour in the workplace…

https://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/work/the-middle-aged-guide-to-fitting-in-with-gen-z-work-colleagues-20220704222915

At the end of January I talked to Karyn Hay of Radio New Zealand about Generation Zed (the preferred term in Wellington and Auckland), their language and online activities…

https://www.rnz.co.nz/national/programmes/nights/audio/2018875098/tony-thorne-gen-z-communication

In February 2023 King’s College London Faculty of Arts and Humanities, host to my Slang and New Language Archive, featured my activities in their Net Gains series…

https://www.kcl.ac.uk/is-tiktok-a-breeding-ground-for-a-mutation-of-culture

*For help in understanding the language and online mannerisms of TikTok and GenZ, I’m grateful to my daughter, Daisy Thorne Mrak*