Showing posts with label adjectives. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adjectives. Show all posts

UK-to-US Word of the Year 2025: fiddly

The 2025 Separated by a Common Language UK-to-US Word of the Year is:

fiddly 


Someone might have recommended this to me this year—if so, please out yourself in the comments, since I cannot find a pixel trail for a recommender. But I did find it in an email conversation I had with Ben Yagoda in deciding the 2022 WotY, where he said:
     Interesting slate of UK to US candidates, especially “soccer.” Didn’t realize about shrinkflation. Fiddly definitely.

Why did I wait till this year to crown fiddly SbaCL WotY?  Well, in 2022,  fit was having a moment due to Love Island, so I put fiddly aside. Now fiddly's time has come. Just look at it going up in the US part of the News on the Web corpus:

NOW corpus bar chart for fiddly in US news only. There's a peak in 2024 with .24 occurrences per million, but then it goes down into the decimal-point-teens for the next 9 years. Up to .20 in 2024, then a high point .29 in 2025

Ben Yagoda first wrote about it as a Britishism in the US in 2016, after its first peak; then the shine went off it for a few years. Now it's back.  Here are the most recent ten US citations from the NOW corpus:

45	25-12-05 US	macrumors.com				  time, it was left in the hotel room because it's too big and fiddly. # Plus the phone has the instant gratification factor. The family pretty much 46	25-12-09 US	pressherald.com				  patterns. For starters, more than one-third of the items I'd attempted required fiddly stuffing and/or rolling: spring rolls, jelly roll cake, onigiri, stuffed grape 47	25-12-11 US	geeky-gadgets.com				  Pro was a point of contention for many users; it was often described as fiddly and difficult to clean. The Galaxy Buds 4 Pro will revert to the " 48	25-12-13 US	slate.com				  This is not a game, " Jud shouts at Blanc, " not some fiddly mystery with devices and clues " -- a very apt characterization of locked-room puzzles. 49	25-12-14 US	wired.com				  flaps reduce spray, so anyone behind you doesn't suffer. Installation can be fiddly, and it took me at least an hour, so if bike maintenance is 50	25-12-17 US	kotaku.com				  from the console's mouse controls, which will make placing decor a bit less fiddly. And that makes sense, paired with a content update that's largely centered 51	25-12-20 US	slate.com				  # Advertisement Rebel Against Royal Icing # Contemporary Christmas cookie recipes are rife with fiddly frostings and icings, and it's true that these are what make decorative varieties 52	25-12-22 US	androidauthority.com				  needed. In practice, that should make Eden feel a bit cleaner and less fiddly, especially on lower-end or storage-constrained devices. # This update also expands the scope 53	25-12-26 US	slashgear.com				  occupant protection. # It got the next-best grade of' acceptable' for a fiddly LATCH infant seat system and a minor concern about rear passenger restraints, and the 54	25-12-26 US	vogue.com				  ottoman couches as you're breezed through check-in. There's no reception, or fiddly paperwork. Instead, it feels just like you're visiting the holiday residence of

Many things and activities here are fiddly: some kind of electronic device, rolling and stuffing a baked good, cleaning ear buds, a fictional mystery story, installing something on a bike, actions in video games, frostings and icings on Christmas cookies, using an infant car seat, paperwork. It looks like it's being used just as it's used in BrE.

And if you haven't yet figured out what it means, Merriam-Webster's definition goes like this:

fiddly

adjective

fid·​dly ˈfi-dᵊl-ē 
chiefly British
requiring close attention to detail fussy
especially requiring an annoying amount of close attention
… the tiny control buttons on the back are fiddly.M. J. McNamara  

As a -y adjective, it's a little odd, since -y is usually added to nouns. Fiddly derives (according to the OED) from the verb fiddle 'To make aimless or frivolous movements' (OED), not the noun. That verb does ultimately come from the noun fiddle, but that's not what's relevant to a suffix that usually attaches to nouns. The suffix wants something that's a noun now, as in cinnamon-y or snowy.  But the OED tells us of -y adjectives:

Later new derivatives tend in a large measure to be colloquial, undignified, or trivial,as bumpydumpyflightyhammylineyloopylumpy,  ungymessyonionytreeyverminyvipery; some are from verbs, as dangly


Fiddly only came into being in the early 20th century, the period of "colloquial, undignified, or trivial" -y adjectives. And indeed the OED marks fiddly as "colloquial". 

I'll be happy to have it in AmE, as it is undeniably useful. The Collins thesaurus offers some synonyms:

     pernickety (=AmE persnickety), tricky, detailed, fine, exacting 

I think tricky would work best for some of the things I call fiddly, but tricky seems to connote a challenge, rather than a hassle. Fiddly is all hassle, dexterity, and attention to detail.

Congratulations, fiddly. You've made it. 


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caught + ADJ

A shorter (maybe), quicker and earlier post this month, since I am going to be travel(l)ing without much internet access in September and am (orig. AmE) freaking out* about how much work I have to do before the autumn/fall semester begins. 

In a recent Language Log post, Victor Mair points out a difference in how American and British teens might react to this shirt:


Grey t-shirt with Chinese writing and English translation: I love study, learning makes my mother happy


Americans would tend to say I wouldn't be caught dead in it but BrE speakers would more likely say I wouldn't be seen dead in it.


To me, these bring up different images, since caught is a more dynamic verb than seen. Those who are caught are generally trying not to be caught. I wore the t-shirt, but I wanted to avoid being seen in it. But those who are seen can't help being seen. If you say 'I wouldn't be seen dead in it', it sounds to me like you fear someone putting the t-shirt on you after you've died. But maybe that difference in imagery is just me. Most people aren't so literalist about their idioms.

Anyhow...what's the history of these phrases? The OED has American caught dead from 1870 and American seen dead in 1887, then a Scottish-authored found dead in 1923, followed by British seen deads in the 1930s. So it's likely it started in the US, but then got translated a bit in UK.

1870– colloquial. (I, etc.) wouldn't be seen (also caught) dead and variants: (I, etc.) would be ashamed to be seen or found in a place, with someone, or doing something; (I, etc.) want nothing to do with (something or someone). 1870 I do not know anything about him, sir; I never traveled a mile with him, nor a square, and would not be caught dead with either of them. Miscellaneous Documents Legislature Pennsylvania 1429Citation details for Miscellaneous Documents Legislature Pennsylvania 1887 I quietly told him that if I knew myself, I would not be seen dead in the aforesaid articles. Outing March 540/2Citation details for Outing 1923 The sort of man..who would not be found dead in a bow-tie with a turn-over collar. N. Munro, Jimmy Swan in Warm Weather in B. D. Osborne & R. Armstrong, Erchie & Jimmy Swan (1993) ii. xxxiv. 465Citation details for N. Munro, Jimmy Swan in Warm Weather 1931 No decent person would be seen dead with a specimen like that! T. R. G. Lyell, Slang, Phrase & Idiom in Colloquial English 671Citation details for T. R. G. Lyell, Slang, Phrase & Idiom in Colloquial English 1937 In the whole of France there wasn't a hat she would be seen dead in. M. Sharp, Nutmeg Tree ix. 103Citation details for M. Sharp, Nutmeg Tree 1966 Do you think I'd be seen dead in gear like that? A. E. Lindop, I start Counting ix. 110Citation details for A. E. Lindop, I start Counting 2023 I wouldn't be caught dead in this place! @diannafeike 7 March in twitter.com (accessed 14 Mar. 2023)
from the OED

 Other 'be caught ADJECTIVE' phrases are also more American. (In this corpus result, the Token 1 column is number of hits in the US corpus, and the Token 2 column is UK).

Corpus of Global Web-Based English results CAUGHT DEAD	84	30;  CAUGHT UNPREPARED	21	10;CAUGHT OFF-GUARD	44	29;CAUGHT FLAT-FOOTED	33	22; CAUGHT UNAWARE	20	15

As well as caught unaware, there's the more frequent caught unawares (which might not have been tagged as an adjective in the corpus, leading to its absence from the chart above). Another AmE caught expression is caught short
from the OED

So, generally, caught is used with adjectives to describe being in a situation you're not prepared for. With a noun, we also have caught by surprise (more than 2x more US hits in GloWbE). 

But not all caught + adjective phrases with connotations of unreadiness are more American. Caught red-handed has more UK hits in the GloWbE corpus (less than 2x more), and that makes sense since red-handed is from Scotland in the early 1800s. (The red is the blood of the person you've just murdered.) That's a more literal caught, though—being caught by the police (or someone).


*I've only really just appreciated that anything that looks bold when I'm in the blogger editor doesn't look bold when the post is published—at least not on my browser. So, I'm going to start putting bold things in another colo(u)r just to underscore the difference. If anyone wants to give me a tip on how to retroactively change the font across the blog to make the bolds stand out more, please let me know via gmail (lynneguist). 

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the fine/small print

Last month, Dave Mandl tagged me on this message on Bluesky:

Dave Mandl: Huh, is "small print" used in the UK vs. US "fine print"? I never realized that. (Headline from the FT.)  Headline in FT: The Economic Scourge of Small Print

I hadn't really reali{s/z}ed it either, till Dave pointed it out. But sure enough, it is the case. Here are a couple of screenshots from the Corpus of Global Web-Based English, showing the fine print and the small print with a bit more grammatical context:

GloWbE results showing fine:small in the phrase IN THE _____ PRINT  at a ratio of 87:9 in US and 15:93 in UK.
GloWbE results showing fine:small in the phrase READ THE _____ PRINT  at a ratio of 157:22 in US and 47:126 in UK.

Before we get into the how, when, and where of this, let's start with the what. There are three uses of the fine/small print to sort out, which arose in this order:
  1. the original, literal meaning: printed characters that small in dimension and (relatedly/therefore) light in line thickness, and therefore difficult to read

    e.g. I can't read such small/fine print without my glasses.

  2. the extended meaning the fine/small print: supplementary text to a contract or other document that expresses terms and conditions, typically printed in a small/light font

    e.g. They hid the extra penalty fees in the small/fine print.

  3. more figurative uses (again with the): important, technical/non-obvious information that one might not have paid attention to, but that might have serious repercussions.

    e.g. "The fine print of what Obama is doing is far less dramatic than many of his defenders and critics claim."  (Cedar Rapids, IA Gazette, quoted in the Oxford English Dictionary)

In the literal sense 1, the OED has examples of small print all the way back to the 1500s; fine print only appears in 1761. All the first citations are from England, but all their examples of fine print from the 1850s onward are American.

In the extended sense 2 (from what evidence we have), the fine print shows up first—in an American case-law reporter in 1891.  The small print is first found in a yachting manual published in London in 1900.

It's hard to say when these expressions got more figurative. The OED only gives a separate figurative sense 3 for fine print (first example, 1948) with just "also figurative" at sense 2 for small print. It's a bit annoying that the two are treated differently, but it appears to be because the figurative examples of fine print in AmE are just more figurative. In the 'figurative' fine print examples, like the Obama one above, we're looking at deeds rather than words. But the not-really-about-print examples of sense 2 for small print involve language (if not print), as in this example from the Telegraph:

  1. 1971
    Some interest attaches therefore to the ‘small print’ of the Queen's speech and how far it avoids firm undertakings on some of the more controversial measures.

So, to sum up, it looks like, for some reason, AmE liked the phrase fine print more than small print for the literal stuff, and then it added an extended meaning relating to contractual language. You can see the frequency of the phrase rising as it gets more uses—and the neglect of small print in the Corpus of Historical American English:



Then after the meaning was extended, it looks like it was calqued into BrE—which is to say BrE took the idea and put it into the more familiar phrasing small print.  

I wondered whether there were broader differences in the use of fine in its 'slim, delicate' linear senses in AmE and BrE. I found a few things, but they don't add up to much of a picture:
  • fine line: consistently more AmE than BrE hits in singular
  • fine lines and wrinkles: This phrase had 3x more hits in BrE than AmE in GloWbE (2012–13), but only about 1/3 more in the more recent News on the Web (NoW) corpus. It's strongest in Hong Kong/Singapore/Malaysia, though, so maybe it originated in advertising in Asia?
  • draw a fine line between (two similar things): The OED's first example of that is BrE in 1848; the GloWbE corpus now has more US examples than UK, but the numbers are very small.
  • fine-tip, fine-point (of a pen, etc.): much more AmE in GloWbE and NoW. (The number of hits for fine nib were tiny, but more in BrE. Fine-nibbed pen had more in AmE.)


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one-off and one-of-a-kind

Congratulations to Ben Yagoda on his new book Gobsmacked: The British Invasion of American English! If you like this blog, you are going to like that book. I was both gobsmacked and chuffed to see that I was among the dedicatees of the book (and in wonderful company). It even has an appendix of my UK-to-US Words of the Year! (And on that note—feel free to start nominating 2024's Transatlantic Words of the Year.)


Ben has been observing the transit of British English words, pronunciations and grammar for 13 years now at his blog Not One-Off Britishisms. So, to celebrate his book, let's look at one-off, the Britishism in his blog title.  One-off can be used as a noun or an adjective to refer to something happens once and won't happen again.

Ben's blog evaluates previously British-only expressions that seem to be catching on in American English, and one-off was one he first covered in 2011. In the book, he gives more historical context for both the British and American usage. Google Books charts (nicely redrawn by Eric Hansen in the book) provide a handy view of the trajectory of British words in American publications over time.

In the case of one-off, the first known occurrence of it is in 1930s Britain. It seems to take off in Britain in the 1960s, then shows up in the US in the 1990s, picking up speed as it goes along.  Here's the the relevant bit of the book:

Graph showing one-off usage in US lagging behind that in UK.

 
He also categori{s/z}es each expression as to how entrenched it has become in AmE. In the case of one-off, it's "taking hold."  

While Yagoda keeps track of the migration of Britishisms, my (self-appointed) job on this blog is to give American English translations. One-of-a-kind seems a good candidate But is one-of-a-kind American English or General English? And is one-off displacing it at all?

My first stop is the Corpus of Global Web-Based English, whose data comes from 2012:
 

Now, we don't always hyphenate one of a kind (it depends on how it's being used in a sentence), but this chart at least gives a sense that one-of-a-kind is used proportionally less in BrE, since it has one-off to use instead. In the same corpus, unhyphenated one of a kind is still "more North American," but more gently so: 490 US hits to 320 GB ones. 

All of the Oxford English Dictionary quotations for one-of-a-kind are North American too—the first one from 1954 by American art critic Arthur C. Danto. (The first unhyphenated one is from 1977.) The OED does not, however, mark it as an American expression. 

Now, one-off and one-of-a-kind aren't exactly the same thing. One-off has a more temporal connotation: it's happened once (and won't again). That said, you could say, for example, that a person is a one-off or one of a kind meaning that they're a unique kind of person.

So is the existence of one-off hurting one-of-a-kind? It happens to be easier to look at the unhyphenated version in Google Ngrams and the hyphenated one in the Corpus of Historical American English, so let's look at both.

First, we can see that one of a kind has been increasing fairly steadily in both AmE and BrE, but it's definitely more American. One-off's appearance on the American scene has not caused one of a kind to become less frequent. 

And here's the hyphenated one-of-a-kind in comparison with one-off in American English since the 1940s. American use of one-off has taken off in the 21st century. One-of-a-kind is still used more, but the gap is closing:



How are both of these expressions doing so well?  Well, it seems to be because everything in the world has got(ten) more unique. Here's the Google Ngram for unique, going up-up-up in English generally since World War II. 




And just for the pedants, here's the chart for more unique:



(I wonder what proportion of the hits for more unique are just people complaining or warning against more unique.)

Anyhow, congratulations to Ben Yagoda on the success of his blog and the publication of his book! 
And so many thanks for this kind dedication:


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analogous

I listen to a lot of podcasts, and I notice things. One thing I’ve noticed is that no one seems to be able to agree with anyone else without saying 100%. That cliché seems to have caught on in both UK and US, so that’s not the topic of this blog post. This blog post is about another thing I’ve noticed: an apparent change in the British pronunciation of analogous.

 

Dictionaries give the pronunciation as /əˈnaləɡəs/ (or similar; all dictionary pronunciations here from the OED). That is to say, the stress is on the second syllable and the ‘g’ is pronounced ‘hard’ as in analog(ue). What I’ve been noticing in BrE speakers is a non-dictionary pronunciation, /əˈnaləʤəs/, which is to say with a ‘soft g’ as in analogy.

 

To see how common this pronunciation is, I looked to YouGlish, which finds a word in YouTube videos (using the automatic transcription), classifies them by country, and presents them so that you can listen to that word pronounced by lots of people in lots of contexts. The automati{s/z}ation means that it makes mistakes. I wanted to listen to the first ten pronunciations in US and UK, but had to listen to 12 in the ‘UK’ category to get ten that were both British and the right word.

screenshot from examplesof.net 

 

The first British one had a pronunciation that I hadn’t heard before: /əˈnaləɡjuəs/, as if the spelling were analoguous. Half (five) of the British ten had the hard ‘g’ pronunciation, four had the soft-g pronunciation I’d been hearing, as if the spelling is analogious (or analogeous). All of the first 10 US ones said /əˈnaləɡəs/.

 

The word analogous seems to be more common in AmE. There are 2433 examples of it on US YouGlish, versus 147 examples tagged-as-UK. (The US population is about five times larger than UK’s, and Americans might post videos to YouTube at a higher rate than Britons. So while that’s a very big numerical difference, it doesn’t mean Americans say it16 times more than the British.) That’s in speech. In writing, there’s about twice as much American analogous in the News on the Web corpus:

 



 

So, Americans have presumably heard the word more than Britons have, leading to a more uniform pronunciation.

 

Now, when people know a word more from reading it than from hearing it, we might expect that they will rely on the spelling to know how it sounds. What’s a bit odd here is that the non-dictionary pronunciations contradict the spelling. Perhaps some people who know the word from print have not fully noticed that the spelling is -gous and think it’s -gious. Or perhaps they’re deriving the word anew from their knowledge of other members of that word-family.

 

            Analog(ue) = /ˈanəl*ɡ/  +  -ous = analogous /əˈnaləɡəs/  [dictionary]

            (* different vowels: AmE [ɔ] or [ɑ] & BrE [ɒ])

 

            Analogy = /əˈn*lədʒi/   +  -ous  =  analogious >  /əˈnaləʤəs/ [non-dictionary]

            (* different vowels: AmE [æ] & BrE [a])

 

            Analogu(e) + /ˈanəl*ɡ/ + ous  =  analoguous  > /əˈnaləɡjuəs/ [non-dictionary]

 

 

In the last case, the ‘u’ that is silent in analogue is treated as if it’s ‘really there’ and pronounced in the extended form. This sometimes happens with ‘silent’ final consonants and suffixes. Think of how the ‘silent n’ in damn and autumn are pronounced in damnation and autumnal. This is a bit different, since it’s a vowel, and I can’t think of another example where a silent final ue does the same thing. We don’t go from critique to critiqual (it’s critical) and tonguelet is not pronounced tun-gu-let or tung-u-let: the u remains silent.

 

When I tweeted (or skeeted or something) about the soft-g analogous pronunciation, some respondents supposed that the -gous ending is not found in other words, and therefore unfamiliar. (One said they could only think of humongous, which seems like a jokey word). It is true that analogous is the most common -gous word, but the OED lists 153 others, most of them fairly technical terms like homologous, tautologous, homozygous, and polyphagous. There are fewer -gious words (83), but they’re much more common words: religious, prestigious, contagious, etc. The relative frequency of -gious endings versus -gous endings may have contagiously spread to analogous.

 

But there’s something to notice about contagious and its -gious kin and analogous and its -gous mates. The main stress in a word like contagious is in the syllable just before the -gious, i.e. the penultimate syllable (/kənˈteɪdʒəs/, religious = /rᵻˈlɪdʒəs/, prestigious = BrE /prɛˈstɪdʒəs/ and AmE /prɛˈstidʒəs/ ). (English stress patterns are often best described by counting syllables from the back of the word.) The main stress in analogous is not on the penultimate syllable, but on the one before (the antepenult). That is, we say aNAlogous not anaLOgous, no matter how we pronounce the ‘g’. If soft-g analogous was surmised from (mis)reading rather than hearing the word, and if it was following the model of words like contagious, we’d expect it to be pronounced anaLOdʒous, with some sort of O sound as a stressed vowel. That's not what's happening.


(One way to think of this is that there’s a general pattern that long -ous­ words are stressed on the antepenultimate syllable, but only if we think of the ‘i’ in -gious words as a syllable of its own, which gets elided after the stress pattern has been set. There’s way more to explain about that than I can do in a blog post…and I am relying on decades-old phonology education here.)

 

Now, I am not a phonologist or a morphologist, so I asked my former colleague and friend Max Wheeler to check my reasoning here. He's OK'd it and adds:

To make your argument another way, while -gous is unusual, '-jous' after an unstressed vowel is unparalleled.
[...] analogy is quite a common word, while analogous is much rarer (and people may not readily connect semantically to analog(ue)). Even people with a literary education are unfamiliar with the /g/ - /j/ alternation, so 'mispronounce' fungi, pedagogy, as well as analogous, taking no guidance from the spelling. The phoneme from the more frequent word-form wins.


The moral of the story: soft-g analogous is a bit weird—which is to say, a bit interesting.

 


 

If you liked this post, you might like:

-og and -ogue

-ousness

conflab




 

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The book!

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Abbr.

AmE = American English
BrE = British English
OED = Oxford English Dictionary (online)