Twaddleship (n.)

I like the English. Hardly surprising really, I emigrated from England when I was eight and I have deep affection for that country. Not everyone shares my opinion on the English but I’ll say one thing that is undeniable. The English have given us an incredible gift: The English language.

What would we do without it?

Now it takes some learning, I’ll give you that. I mean what on earth is the silent ‘h’ all about? And surely to goodness the same word does not have to have several meanings. And if the plural of ball is balls, the plural of horse is horses why isn’t the plural of roof, roofs. It can be infuriating but in the end result it is a magnificent tool box of words which we can use for any purpose required.

So, play my game would you. Let me show you just how remarkable the English language is.

Take ‘twaddleship’ for example.

“A long and exhausting voyage through someone’s pointless opinions. No destination, no wisdom, no rescue. Just one tiresome creature steering the conversation directly into the fog of nonsense.”

Now, if you were charged with naming one world leader to whom ‘twaddleship’ might apply, who would that be?

I know, right? And you don’t even have to mention his name.

And the word itself is so versatile. He is a twat, as the English might say.

Not a day goes by that he doesn’t twaddle on about something or other, all of it nonsense.

His loyal sycophants could be called ‘twaddlers’, among other things. ‘What a twaddler!’ captures so much of what I want to call them, in just one word. How efficient is that! And bonus, ‘twaddler’ is phonetically so close to ‘toddler’, you know that immature version of the human species given to unreasonable demands and spontaneous outbursts of temper.

I love words. They can be used as a surgeon uses a scalpel, with precision and purpose.

They can be used to reveal our most intimate thoughts or our most profound love.

They can be used to defuse confrontation.

They can be used to relieve frustration.

My favourite words sound just like they mean. Used intentionally, they can change what your listener thinks, or how they respond.

“I love you.” could be the three most powerful words one ever says, but that depends entirely on how you say them.

“I love you.” said with meaning and feeling can stop your listener in their tracks. “I love you.” spoken without that is no more impactful than “Can you clean your feet before you come in.”

I had a mentor when I was a young lawyer. He would watch my trials and then debrief me on my work. On one particular occasion I was defending a man on a criminal charge of dangerous driving. Speed before impact was the critical evideniary issue. I had to challenge it.

“So Tony why did you ask the witness how fast she thought your client was driving before the accident?”

His question caught me off guard. My immediate reaction was that it was specious, not helpful. I pushed back.

“Because speed is everything to my defense. The police testified he was going over sixty miles per hour in a forty zone. I had to challenge speed and this witness helped me with that.”

My mentor persisted.

“So, you needed to lower the speed that vehicle was travelling and this witness was going to help you with that.”

“Yes.”

“Well then why did you use the word fast in your question. That is a word that accelerates, stimulates and invites an answer that matches the word ‘fast’.”

I resisted.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Interesting. Do you happen to remember her answer on the stand?”

“Not exactly.”

“I took notes.” he replied. She said “He was going really fast, about sixty miles an hour I figure.”

It turns out my mentor was absolutely correct.

My client was convicted of dangerous driving. My careless question contributed to that conviction.

Later that same year I was at a forensic conference at the University of Washington. Okay, I am about to get all geeky on you, so feel free to bail now if you’ve had enough of Tony Peyton’s idle meanderings.

I took in a lecture with Dr. Elizabeth Loftus, a cognitive psychologist renowned for her research on human memory. In her groundbreaking experiments in 1974, participants watched films of traffic accidents and were asked to estimate how fast the cars were traveling. The researchers swapped out the verb in the question for different groups, using words like fast, smashed, collided, bumped, hit, or contacted.

What speed was the car going when it passed you before it collided with the other car? How fast was the car going before it smashed into the other car? The results were compelling.

Participants who heard more intense, stimulating words estimated much higher speeds – 60 mph for ‘fast and smashed‘, 45 mph for ‘passed and collided’. A twenty-five percent difference in the estimate of speed. Same witnesses, completely different answers. Both answers honest.

It was a lesson well learned, not just for a courtroom but for every conversation I have.

Now where was I? Ah yes, I was talking about the English language and ‘twaddleships’.

I have to go. I need to see what he’s been twaddling on about this morning.

This is great. I may never have to say his name again. Everybody knows who I mean.

I love the English language.