Perusing the new additions to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary online, I was struck by the term non-refoulement. As a Francophile working with refugees in my free time, it is not an unfamiliar term to me, nevertheless it prompted some questions.

Non-refoulement, the practice of not forcing refugees to return to a country in which they are at risk of harm, was first expressed in the context of international law in 1933, and its opposite, refoulement, has been in English since the mid-19th century, albeit in the sense ‘an instance of water being forced back into the channel of a river’.

My first thought was, why have we (so recently) adopted this French word in English, instead of finding an equivalent term in English?

feb 2019It is not uncommon to find French terms in legal vocabulary, but often there is a clear historical reason for this. It makes sense, for example, that legal terms such as arrest, bailiffculprit, jury, mortgage and parole came to English via Old French (even though some of these terms in modern French bear no resemblance to the original), because they came here at the time of the Norman Conquest of England in 1066.

In this same Medieval period, it wasn’t just French that was mixed with English in legal terminology. Unsurprisingly, Latin played an important role, too. The linguist David Crystal has written about the feature of legal language whereby words from different languages were paired together, perhaps to avoid ambiguity or to emphasize certain points[i]. Among others, Crystal gives the English/French examples of ‘fit and proper’ and ‘lands and tenements’, and the English/Latin pairing ‘will and testament’, all of which are still commonly used today.

But herein lies my confusion. This use of language is both logical and promotes a certain ease of understanding (or at least used to). Whereas, to a mind such as mine, untrained in the intricacies of law, unfathomable legalese now far outweighs legal language which is easily understood.

Among OALD’s legal topic lists, words abound such as despoil, purloin, infringe, justiciary, violate, testimony, void, writ, nullify, vest in … words which you’re unlikely to come across in everyday English transactions. Others I’ve had fun discovering in OALD include affidavit, a fortiori, corpus delicti, de jure, fiduciary, habeas corpus, lieutenant, malfeasance, obiter dictum, prima facie, sine die, sub judice, subpoena, ultra vires. I wonder if you can do a better job than me at pronouncing these in English? And if you can, do you know what they mean?

Very few native speakers of English would be able to explain all of these terms. So why do we keep such complicated terminology? Would it be better to scrap all these French- and Latin-derived terms? When used in the press or on the television news, they usually have to be explained, so shouldn’t we just replace them with something simpler? Or do they in fact serve an important purpose?

After all, one of the charms of the English language is its precision, richness and nuance, which can be attributed to its borrowing of words from other languages throughout the ages [see in silico post]. If they are used enough, they become familiar. The word refugee, for example, is commonly understood nowadays, but perhaps wouldn’t have been so clear when it originally came to English from French in the late 17th century:


More recently, force majeure was adopted into English legalese, and is not unheard of in ‘normal’ life (albeit in specific situations) – so perhaps the newer addition non-refoulement just needs longer to trickle into our consciousness?

You may have noticed a common thread throughout these tricky terms borrowed from French and Latin – each one has a very precise meaning, because the law is a domain (like medicine) in which linguistic precision is paramount, de jure and de facto!

[i] David Crystal, The Stories of English (Penguin Books, 2004), Part 7.4.

Isabel Tate is an editor in the ELT Dictionaries department at Oxford University Press.


The green-fingered among you may be familiar with the concept of a hothouse: a heated building, usually made of glass, used for growing delicate plants, for example those which need protection from cold weather. Outside the plant world, the term has acquired another less literal meaning and is used to describe a place or situation that encourages, especially in an intense way, the rapid growth or development of somebody or something, such as ideas, emotions, skills or knowledge, as you can see from these example sentences:

In the hothouse atmosphere of college there are plenty of opportunities for falling in love.

My school was a thrusting hothouse of academic achievement.

The Second World War was a hothouse for technological advance, the military having to innovate to survive; it produced advances in jet engines, radar, and computing, to cite three examples.

When Kierkegaard was twenty-two years old, he made his first foray into this literary hothouse.

Senior faculty scour the world for young researchers, graduate students, and postdoctoral candidates who might thrive in this cross-disciplinary hothouse.

This is not a social club. It is a hothouse where children as young as eight experience tennis, not as a sport in which to dabble and then lose, but as a serious, demanding, aspirational career.

If you have ever experienced the stifling temperatures of a hothouse, filled with flourishing plants, then you will not find it difficult to imagine how the term came to be applied to other similarly intense, or even oppressive, environments conducive to rapid development. Indeed, hothouse is a good example of how a word can evolve from a literal meaning to a figurative meaning. Interestingly, the evolution of hothouse has not stopped there: in its figurative sense, it is no longer used exclusively as a noun but now also as a verb. As a verb, hothouse means to train a child intensively, typically in academic work, music or a sport. It has not yet been added to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary online (although it will be in a future update), but is defined in Oxford’s native-speaker dictionary as follows: ‘educate or teach (a child) to a high level at an earlier age than is usual’. It is clear, then, how the verb was derived from the noun.

The often intense or stifling nature of a hothouse in its figurative sense means that it frequently has negative connotations attached to it. That said, the noun can also be used in a neutral or even positive way, as demonstrated by some of the example sentences above. However, as a verb hothouse seems to be predominantly negative: it is used to express disapproval of people or institutions and the way in which they approach child-rearing and instruction. That is to say, people or institutions are accused of hothousing by others – an accusation most would be quick to refute – and it is not generally a word people would use when describing themselves. Take a look at these example sentences:

The former Scottish national tennis coach has launched an online guide to the pitfalls of hothousing sporting prodigies.

‘My programme is the opposite of hothousing,’ she insists.

Sports academies are common in some countries, but many consider their hothousing of developing child athletes as cruel.

Her five year old so doesn’t want to be hothoused and forced into hateful activity after hateful activity.

She would become quite animated on the subject of early education for preschoolers – ‘absurd’ – or if encountering a real atrocity such as hothousing: ‘bloody absurd’.

The ethos of the school is strongly anti-hothouse.

It is important to remember that a hothouse, in the literal sense of the word, is not a natural environment: plants in hothouses are forced to flower or produce fruit earlier than they normally would, or in places where they would not naturally grow at all. It is this unnaturalness which is the crucial link to the negative meaning of hothouse as a verb.

shutterstock-68663449Hothousing is a controversial topic, as a quick Google search for the term attests. Multiple articles warn against the dangers of hothousing, with the suggestion that it does more harm than good and may cause untold damage to children. Advocates of the practice, meanwhile, maintain that hard work and discipline are good for children – certainly better than a laissez-faire attitude to parenting or education in any case – and essential if they are to fulfil their potential, excel in their field and generally make a success of their lives.

Parents who are strict disciplinarians and who push their children to achieve academic success can also be described in another way: tiger mothers or, more broadly, tiger parents. The term tiger mother was popularized in 2011 by Amy Chua in her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, in which she described the authoritarian approach she took to raising her own children and the ways in which her daughters responded to her methods. The book, which became a bestseller, caused great controversy, attracting both high praise and severe criticism.

A fearsome tiger is certainly an apt metaphor for a harsh, unyielding parent (and also suggests a parent who is fiercely protective), and we saw earlier how the literal meaning of hothouse makes for a powerful figurative meaning. So, rather than round off this post with my own opinions on hothousing and tiger parenting, I’m going to leave you with another couple of effective metaphorical expressions relating to parents and their children:

helicopter parent
boomerang kid

Consider the literal meanings of the words helicopter and boomerang and see if you can work out what these expressions might mean and how they originated, then follow the links to check your answers in OALD online.

Kallah Pridgeon is a Development Editor in the ELT Dictionaries and Reference Grammar department at Oxford University Press.

Toxic masculinity

ImageThe phrase toxic masculinity seems to be much in the news these days. As we all know, recent years have seen a number of “strong man” leaders emerge all over the world, generally displaying exaggerated macho attitudes which seem to strike a chord in large sectors of the population who feel left behind by the potent cocktail of economic stagnation, increasing social division and social change which have come with globalization. At the same time the #MeToo movement has been active in naming and shaming prominent male figures whose power and sense of entitlement has led them to act abusively and with impunity towards women.

It is, then, perhaps hardly surprising that the two words toxic and masculinity have come to be used together so often. All of our dictionaries are of course based on language corpora, and corpus data from October 2017 to September 2018 contains 1,724 citations of toxic masculinity. Astonishingly, this represents nearly 25% of all uses of the word masculinity in the corpus during that period.

Image 1

If we look, though, at the Oxford English Corpus from 2014 (those far-off days before Trump, Weinstein et al.), there are only three citations:

Image 2

So as we can see, developments in society have led to this expression becoming rapidly more common.  But let’s look in a bit more detail at how the use of the word toxic – which has just been announced as Oxford Dictionaries’ Word of the Year 2018 – has evolved.

The prime meaning of the word toxic is, of course, “poisonous”, as we can see from the entry in the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary:

Image 3

The word derives, not surprisingly, from the Latin toxicus:

Image 4

It seems, though, that it is only in very recent times that the word has begun to be used in a figurative sense, to mean “poisonous” in a non-physical sense. The first citation of this type of use is in relation to debt, cited by the Oxford English Dictionary as late as 1990:

Image 5

This example does now of course seem quite prescient, given the origins of the financial crisis that would hit the world economy some 17 years later and that would in turn lead to the coining of toxic masculinity itself.

The figurative use of the word toxic seems to have mushroomed since 1990, though, and now it is very common. In addition to the 1,724 citations for toxic masculinity, there are in the same corpus over 1,000 for toxic environment and over 800 for toxic relationship, for example.

As well as the debt sense highlighted above, the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary does cover this relatively new figurative use, in relation to people:

Image 6

Because of its core meaning of “poisonous”, the word toxic is clearly a powerful one in a figurative context, with strongly negative overtones. If an issue is politically toxic, it is certainly something that no politician will want to dirty their hands with. And so toxic masculinity is invariably viewed as a negative phenomenon (if you want to use a somewhat more neutral term, you could try hypermasculinity).

And what about masculinity? Sadly, it seems from our corpus that masculinity itself is today often viewed negatively, though perhaps this is not so surprising given the social context of our times. Here are some of the most common adjectival collocates:


Just how recent the figurative use is seems quite remarkable given how common it is these days, but this shows how quickly the meaning of words can and does change, and how quickly we get used to the new meanings and collocations, as if they had been part of the language for centuries. And as the world continues to change and language evolve at breakneck speed, hopefully we shall see some less toxic masculinities evolve too.

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Before becoming an editor in the ELT Dictionaries department at Oxford University Press, Mark Temple lived another life as an English teacher in Spain, Italy and Latin America.


Picture this scenario: you’ve just received a big bonus at work and treated yourself to a flashy new car. Do you …

a) post a photo of it on all your social media forums, along with a comment about how pleased you are,
b) post a photo of it, but accompany it with a complaint about how much it will cost to run the car,
or c) not mention it at all on social media?


If you picked b), you might be accused of humblebragging: a faux pas that’s common on social media, and that seems to get peoples’ backs up as much as outright boasting. Humblebragging involves complaining or making a modest or self-deprecating statement, while at the same time drawing attention to something that you are in fact proud of. The word humblebrag, which currently appears in the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary online as a noun, can also be used as a verb, and somebody who humblebrags regularly can be called a humblebragger. Although these informal terms mainly appear as hashtags in social media posts, they also crop up elsewhere, as shown in the examples below:

She humblebragged about how ‘awful’ she looks without any make-up.

[…] social media has given the sport of humblebragging new life […]

The endless inspirational quotes, nauseating humblebrags, pics from far-flung exotic locations […]

[…] a humblebragger must always maintain the appearance of awe and disbelief at his or her success […]

According to online sources, the word humblebrag was coined in 2010, when the late comedy writer Harris Wittels created a Twitter account with that name and used it to poke fun at celebrities and others he considered to be humblebraggers. He then went on to write a book called Humblebrag: The Art of False Modesty. Of course, false modesty isn’t a new phenomenon, and it has probably always been considered more socially acceptable to mask a boast than to be a braggart. But in an age when people can inform everyone they know about their achievements in a matter of minutes, it’s hardly surprising that the humblebrag seems to have become ubiquitous, at least for anyone who’s active on social media.

In linguistic terms, humblebrag is an oxymoron as it combines two words that seem to be the opposite of each other. The adjective humble, derived from the Latin humilis, meaning ‘low’ or ‘lowly’, is defined in OALD as ‘showing you do not think that you are as important as other people’. The verb brag, on the other hand, means ‘to talk too proudly about something you own or something you have done’. The oxymoron has been used as a linguistic device for many years, as shown in this well-known speech from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. How many oxymorons can you spot?

Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,
O anything of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

And just to test you further, I wonder if you can match the words in the two groups below to form some of the most common oxymorons used in the present day? (You can check your answers at the end of this blog post.*)

Group 1

Group 2

Well, on that note, I’d better wrap up this piece. It’s getting late and I still need to share it with my friends and followers on social media, of course with a comment about how hard it is to write a good Word of the Month blog post. (#humblebrag)

* bittersweet, original copy, old news, deafening silence, open secret, passive aggressive

Leonie Hey is a Senior Editor in OUP’s ELT Dictionaries department. She doesn’t do much bragging on social media, humble or otherwise, but she doesn’t mind reading other people’s humblebrags.

Fulfilment centre

shutterstock_144468457What is your idea of fulfilment? We are probably all seeking fulfilment in one form or another, whether that means achieving success in our chosen field of activity, having a happy home life or dedicating ourselves to helping others. So I was intrigued when I first heard the term fulfilment centre – added to Oxford Learner’s Dictionaries online this month. It sounds as though it ought to be a happy place, where you can achieve your long-held ambitions and become that better, nobler person you know you had it in you to be. Unless it is actually the headquarters of some sinister cult, where they will brainwash you into parting with all your possessions and your sense of identity.

The truth is somewhat more mundane. A fulfilment centre – or fulfillment center, as we perhaps should spell it, given the American origin of the term – is a huge building packed with goods. Workers, sometimes known as ‘pickers’, go up and down the long aisles to pick items off the shelves and pack and send them to customers. What gets fulfilled in a fulfillment center is not people, but orders. In plain English, it’s a warehouse.

There is a difference, though. OALD defines warehouse as ‘a building where large quantities of goods are stored, especially before they are sent to shops/stores to be sold’. A modern fulfilment centre is a kind of warehouse, but it is one that often deals with sending goods direct to consumers who have ordered them online. The only shop/store involved is a virtual one on the Internet, not a bricks-and-mortar business.

At this point, I could reflect on the materialism of a society that can equate fulfilment with the acquiring of consumer goods. But really that’s just a quirk of the language, where one word can come to mean two such different things. The term does illustrate another curious feature of modern language, though – the tendency to create new, more positive-sounding names for things that are in reality quite humdrum. Here are some more examples – some of them also American in origin. What is the more traditional term in each case?

animal control officer (dogcatcher)

refuse collector/garbage collector (dustman)

correctional facility (prison)

It could well be argued that the more modern terms are preferable because they give dignity to occupations that are necessary but unglamorous. There is often pressure at work or in public life to put a positive spin on the most unpromising circumstances. Thus, in business, we may talk about strengths and opportunities (= strengths and weaknesses). My husband, who is a teacher, likes to say there is no such thing as failure or mistakes, merely learning opportunities. More pernicious is the so-called courtesy call (= annoying and unwanted phone call from a business to a customer), which may even cause the customer to disengage (= angrily slam the phone down). A politician may be obliged to apologize because he misspoke (= lied). But with terms like this we are getting into the territory of euphemisms.

A euphemism is defined as ‘an indirect word or phrase that people often use to refer to something embarrassing or unpleasant, sometimes to make it seem more acceptable than it really is’. The euphemisms themselves can be serious or humorous:

His mother passed away (= died) last year.

Walk before toward the seaside. … I will but look upon the hedge, and follow you. (Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale)

I’ll leave you to work out what Shakespeare really means by ‘look upon the hedge’ in this case!

Sometimes, however, euphemisms have a more questionable purpose, when they are used to disguise the truth about something quite unacceptable. Examples are collateral damage (= the killing of innocent people in war), enhanced interrogation methods (= torture) and rendition (= sending people to be tortured in another country where the laws against it are less strict).

Avoiding embarrassing topics or difficult truths is a natural human tendency. So is poking fun at ourselves for this behaviour. My favourite euphemism? Pre-loved.

Vintage or pre-loved wedding dresses can be just as lovely.

Many schools have a pre-loved uniform service where outgrown items are donated and sold on cheaply.

We buy and sell pre-loved designer fashion.

a pre-loved edition of ‘Pride and Prejudice’

The room was stacked with boxes of pre-loved teddy bears.

This month Diana Lea celebrates 24 years as a dictionary editor at Oxford University Press. Apart from investigating new and unusual words and expressions for Oxford Learner’s Dictionaries online, she finds fulfilment in fell-walking and baking Victoria sponge cakes.

Fat shaming

We are all well aware that in the 30-odd years since it came into public use, the Internet has become an increasingly powerful tool. It has brought us social media, online shopping, Internet banking, dating websites and apps, digital media and so much more. It has changed culture irrevocably – in some ways for the better, and in some ways for the worse. Whereas before the Internet, individuals were usually restricted to communication with a limited audience, now anyone with Internet access can connect with millions of people worldwide at a click of a button. One of the advantages of this mass communication is that people can spread awareness about issues quickly and easily, consequently reducing stigma and changing attitudes. Yet at the same time, the Internet has unfortunately created the ideal environment for bullying and abuse to proliferate. This dissonance is, as always, illustrated by developments in language.

Added to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary online in March 2018, fat shaming is defined as “the practice of making unpleasant comments about somebody who is judged to be fat or too heavy”. The definition also points the user to body shaming as a comparison (= the practice of making negative comments about a person’s body shape or size). Oxford Dictionaries online goes a step further with shaming collocations: it adds slut shaming to the list (= the practice of making negative comments about a woman’s sexual behaviour), and also identifies fat-shaming and body-shaming as adjectives as well as nouns, e.g. fat-shaming blog.


Of course, shaming of most kinds has existed for many years and this kind of abuse wasn’t caused by the Internet. What the Internet has done, however, is increase both the prevalence of shaming and the power of the backlash against it. A single Google search for “fat shaming” returns over 19 million results, with references to broadcast media, trolling and anti-fat shaming social media campaigns.

And it doesn’t stop there. Hunting through various corpora reveals a whole host of other types of shaming that have been highlighted in recent years, for example:

  • age shaming (pretty self-explanatory), as in “She’s nearly 50. Should she really still be wearing those thigh-high boots?”
  • mom shaming (when one mother criticizes another for their child-rearing choices), as in “You allow your child to eat chocolate? I never give my child refined sugar.”
  • pill shaming (criticizing people who take medication for mental illnesses), as in “Antidepressants are just a placebo, aren’t they?”
  • thin/skinny shaming (the opposite of fat shaming), as in “Go on, have another pastry – you’re all skin and bones!”
  • victim shaming (judging victims of crimes such as rape, domestic violence, etc.), as in “Why didn’t you just fight back?”

This makes quite a grim catalogue. However, the mere fact that we have names for these forms of abuse means that they lose some of their power. It is very hard to fight against something with no name. Linguistic evolution has provided the rhetoric to denounce bullying of all kinds. Over recent years there has been a surge of body-positive social-media campaigns, for instance – to the extent that body positivity on social media is now known simply as “BoPo” for short.

Not all types of shaming are based on prejudice, thankfully. The idiom name and shame, meaning “to publish the names of people or organizations who have done something wrong or illegal”, illustrates the fact that there are times when it feels necessary to highlight bad behaviour. Passenger shaming is when flight attendants post photographic evidence online to expose bad behaviour on planes. An Instagram account called “passengershaming” includes photos of passengers clipping their toenails, leaving dirty nappies in the seat pockets, and sticking chewing gum inside the safety information cards.

Another example of naming and shaming – and my personal favourite – is cat and dog shaming. These light-hearted shaming practices are especially popular with pet-lovers in the West, who treat their pets like substitute children (see our Word of the Month on fur baby, July 2017). Cat and dog shaming involves publishing memes on the Internet of our feline and canine friends looking dejected or embarrassed next to a sign labelled with their latest misdemeanour, such as “I killed your child’s pet goldfish and left it on the kitchen floor” and “I steal dirty socks from the laundry basket”. Just please don’t ever fat shame your pet for piling on a few pounds – after all, their weight is likely to be your responsibility!

Stacey Bateman is a Development Editor in OUP’s ELT Dictionaries department. She is considering cat shaming her own feline friend, Flossie Teacakes, for her habit of stealing biscuits, and dog shaming the family dog, Frankie, for wiping his face on the sofa after eating.


Unicorns: they do matter

Do you dismiss unicorns as outdated relics of childhood and fantasy?  You may be making a mistake. The Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary now defines unicorn as “a new company valued at more than a billion dollars, typically in the software or technology sector”. Unicorns rarely go public, and their true value is frequently debated by financial experts. According to, unicorn was first used in this newer sense in 2013 by venture capitalist Aileen Lee, because finding a software start-up company valued at $1 billion was as rare as finding a unicorn (= an animal like a white horse with a long straight horn on its head).


Historically, people believed that unicorns had magical qualities, in addition to their extreme rarity, and it is easy to see the appeal of applying the descriptor unicorn to such a company.  After all, few non-experts truly understand the inner workings of software or technology firms, particularly firms which are not listed on the stock market.  Remaining as a private company lends an air of mystery to the business.  This might be particularly true when you consider the fantastical sums of money involved. It isn’t too much of a stretch to regard a start-up company worth $1 billion as having near-magical qualities.

Of course, using legendary creatures as metaphors is nothing new, especially when referring to the world of business, technology, and finance.  Both wizard and giant can be used to describe a person or company who is particularly successful. The recent biopic about Ponzi scheme founder Bernard Madoff is even titled The Wizard of Lies.


wizard definition


giant definition

On a more positive note, a white knight is “a person or an organization that rescues a company from being bought by another company at too low a price”.  This is related to the newest sense of the word angel:

angel definition

Although a modern unicorn is unlikely to need help from a white knight or an angel investor, these words do highlight our fascination with leading fairy-tale financial lives, a preoccupation which is evident in several idioms, as well.  A Cinderella story is a rags-to-riches tale, in which an individual or a company suddenly rises from poverty to wealth and success.  Who hasn’t been warned not to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, or searched for that ever-elusive pot of gold?

Why do we use such magical, mystical, and mystifying language to describe finance and business?  Maybe we long for dreamy days when life was slightly more quixotic.  Or maybe we simply don’t understand how these unicorns, wizards, and giants actually work, so we use metaphors to disguise our confusion.

Modern unicorns, as with most things modern, are a bit flashier and a bit more software-based than their fabled ancestors.  Though the current meaning of the word may have changed, one thing remains the same: a unicorn is still a rare and mysterious entity.

Lindsey Bowden is Dictionaries Assistant in OUP’s Dictionaries and Reference Grammar department. She is legendary – like a unicorn.

Across, around and below

Issues around prepositions

shutterstock_402737608For learners of English, it is often those pesky little words (usually prepositions and adverbs) that cause the biggest headaches. Should you say that you are interested about, in, or of something?

If that wasn’t hard enough already, just like other kinds of words, prepositions and adverbs can change their meaning and acquire new senses. Take this sentence, for example:

The whole team will be across the below issues around the funding gap.

Although it is apparently a sentence with simple, short words, it shows three examples of usage that are relatively new in English and one of which is not yet covered by OALD.

acrossacross has traditionally been used to refer only to physical position or movement but now if a person is across a subject, they are knowledgeable about it or dealing with it.


below – OALD only shows adverbial and prepositional uses of below but it is becoming increasingly common to read examples such as ‘the below instructions’ or ‘the below information’ where below is an adjective. It sounds odd to the ears of some English speakers but has become sufficiently widespread for OALD editors to consider adding it to the dictionary.

around – where once only about was used when referring to something, e.g. ‘what are your thoughts about it?’ or ‘there are questions about its suitability’, around is coming up hard on its heels, especially in business and journalistic contexts and when used with words such as issues, questions, doubts, uncertainty. There is often an implication that the speaker or writer is distancing themselves more from the issue/question/doubt/uncertainty by introducing some vagueness.

Another place where about is being supplanted is when used with the word excited. OALD gives the prepositions about, at and by in constructions using excited, but it is becoming common to hear and read the phrase excited for when excited about would (traditionally) be more expected. Take a look at these examples from our corpus:


Many people will wince or raise an eyebrow at some or all of these usages but, given the dynamic nature of language, shouldn’t we rather be excited – for? – such changes?

After teaching English in China and working as a translator, Patrick fell into the dictionary publishing business where he has edited, managed and commissioned more dictionaries than he cares to recall. Although now Content Director for ELT Dictionaries and Reference Grammar, he’s still an editor at heart and is learning to bite his tongue when his children get inventive with their prepositions.


Some words aren’t ‘real’ words. But if they look, sound, and behave like real words, they may gradually infiltrate the language and before you know it everyone just assumes they were real words all along.

And who is to say what is a real word and what is not? Not the dictionary, whose role is to describe the language, not to prescribe what should or should not be used. No, it is users of the language who decide – which means you!

So is trepidatious a real word? It is not in the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary, but should it be? I will present its case and leave it to you to decide.

Actually, my case is getting off to a very bad start, as my computer program adds a red wavy line underneath the word trepidatious every time I type it. Clearly my word-processing software does not approve. However, I will ignore that and press on.


A common and accepted way to create new words is through derivation, or adding prefixes or suffixes to existing words to make new ones. Thus the verb entertain becomes the noun entertainment with the addition of the noun suffix -ment. So, we should start with the noun trepidation, which describes a fear that something bad might happen, for example:

He knocked on the door with some trepidation.

She set off up the mountain with fear and trepidation.

This noun is a fine alternative to the more mundane fear or the less formal nervousness, and no one will bat an eyelid if you use it, in fact probably the reverse – people will be impressed by your wide range of vocabulary. Talking of which, how many other English words for fear do you know? We’ve got lots! I’ve listed 15 synonyms or near-synonyms of fear at the bottom. Give yourself a point for each noun you can think of and see if you can score over ten points!

Most of our ‘fear’ nouns have adjectives to go with them: we have apprehension/apprehensive, nerves/nervous, worry/worried, fear/fearful, phobia/phobic just for starters. So why can’t we have an adjective trepidatious for our noun trepidation?

The formation of the adjective is grammatically sound. We turn other nouns ending in -ation into adjectives ending in -atious, for example flirtation/flirtatious, ostentation/ostentatious, vexation/vexatious. Trepidatious follows the pattern and allows us to create sentences such as:

I was feeling trepidatious as I approached the door.

She was trepidatious but also excited about future challenges.

Such sentences are used in real life. Just the other day I heard the following on a radio podcast from a film critic who was about to watch a much-hyped new movie:

I went into this slightly trepidatious.

There are almost 200 examples of trepidatious being used in real life in our newest corpus (= our collection of written and spoken texts as of February 2018), which is admittedly not a very large number. For comparison, there are 8,000 instances of the noun trepidation and 10,000 of the adjective apprehensive, so there is a long way to go before it becomes common usage. But there were no examples at all in our older corpus (up to 2014), so usage is certainly growing. The Oxford English Dictionary cites examples going back as far as 1904, so perhaps the word fell out of common usage and is now making a comeback.

My final point in favour of trepidatious is that it is easily understood. If you know the word trepidation, then you will not be confused if you come across the word trepidatious, even if you’ve never heard it before. This may be why the word is creeping in under the radar, as its use does not cause a problem with communication.

As we have already seen, we’ve already got lots of synonyms for afraid. The closest in meaning to trepidatious is probably apprehensive, so you may feel that that is perfectly adequate and trepidatious is just surplus to requirements. Or do you think we should welcome new ones, in the spirit of ‘the more the merrier’?

Synonyms of fear:

Agitation / Alarm / Anxiety / Apprehension / Concern / Dread / Fear / Fright / Hysteria / Nervousness / Panic / Paranoia / Phobia / Terror / Trepidation / Worry

Jennifer Bradbery has worked on many dictionaries and other reference materials for learners of English, including the Oxford Learner’s Thesaurus, a dictionary of synonyms.

Virtue signalling

January 7th 2018. At the Golden Globe Awards ceremony, many of Hollywood’s most famous female actors wore plain black dresses instead of the usual extravagant examples of haute couture. Their aim was to show support for the #timesup and #metoo campaigns against sexual harassment. When the same campaign ran during the BAFTAs ceremony in the UK a month later, the Daily Mail newspaper called it ‘virtue signalling: the sequel’.

You may not agree with the Daily Mail’s opinion but it raises an interesting question. It became apparent that many actors were aware of unacceptable behaviour in their industry but almost none of them had spoken out at the time.

shutterstock_129038348That is the essence of ‘virtue signalling’ – publicly expressing a view that demonstrates your good moral character, but not doing anything practical to change the situation. Or, to put it another way, it’s easy to join a Twitter campaign with millions of others. It’s much harder to take action when you come across the problem in real life.

The term ‘virtue signalling’ may sound as if it comes from the field of social sciences, but the Oxford New Words Corpus* reveals that it is used mainly by journalists writing opinion pieces in blogs or newspapers, especially those with right-wing sympathies such as Fox News or The corpus shows that it is primarily used to denounce politicians who express liberal opinions on issues such as climate change, gun control, Brexit or feminism.

The term is a recent addition to the language with about 150 examples in the corpus since 2015. But if you search for ‘virtue signalling’ on Twitter, you will find hundreds of examples within the last few weeks alone. In fact, on Twitter it seems to have become the new word for ‘political correctness’.

A good example comes from the British journalist, Piers Morgan, who recently wrote: ‘How dare you kill off mankind, Mr Trudeau, you spineless virtue-signalling excuse for a feminist.’ This was after Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau apparently used the term ‘peoplekind’ to replace the word ‘mankind’.

Not all examples of virtue signalling refer to politics. When the physicist Stephen Hawking died recently, #RIPstephenhawking trended on Twitter. Clearly most people had never met Hawking. It’s also unlikely that they could tell you anything about the complex scientific theories that he had developed. So why did so many people use the #RIP hashtag? The accusation is that they hoped to enhance their public image simply by associating themselves with a great person.

There is something quintessentially 21st century about the use and the tone of the term ‘virtue signalling’. If you look through the list of other words that have recently been added to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary online, it’s easy to see the influence of social media. Among these words are, for example: clicktivism, ghosting, lurker, Remoaner. One of the striking things about these new words from social media is that so many of them are pejorative. If you go to the original source and read the full articles or tweets, the tone of the debate is almost relentlessly negative. Maybe it’s time to start a hashtag campaign to treat each other with respect on Twitter. Or would that just be another example of virtue signalling?

*The Oxford New Words Corpus was started in early 2012 and now totals approximately 7 billion words collected from recently published web pages.

Martin Moore is a Managing Editor in OUP’s ELT Dictionaries and Reference Grammar department.