Why English is Spectiferous for Coining New Words.

English has a long history of adopting vocabulary from other languages. As James Nicoll put it: “We don’t just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.” Yet we don’t stop there. English is a bit more open to change than many languages, what with our verbal kleptomania and our muddled origins, and this seems to make us fond of both portmanteaus (words created by combining two other words), and coining brand new words.

Possibly more than any other language, English speakers just invent words on the spot, and some of them catch on, eventually being added to the official lexicon. As language is all about communication, any word that successfully communicates your idea is then language. The best example of this in a general sense is an anecdote of mine from high school. I once had a friend with a penchant for mispronouncing words. When it was remarked on that what he had said was not a word, his response was always the same: “Did you understand what I meant? Yes. Then it’s a word.”

Though probably not the main factor, a good part of English’s word invention habit results from grammatical conditions. Differences or errors in pronunciation are less likely to be problematic in English as positional context is more important and we have comparatively simple declensions and conjugations. This means that distinguishing between similar sounding words, or assigning probable meaning to an unknown word, is done partly by its position in the sentence, and there is rarely confusion as to what type of word it is.

The probable primary reason why word invention works so well in English is that we have a strong association between sound and meaning. I’m not talking about onomatopoeia here, though we have plenty of that as well, like ‘buzz’ for the sound a bee makes, and so on. What I’m referring to here is a different type of association, that of particular vowels or consonants which automatically invoke a particular attribute or feeling. Many other languages have this association as well, though not usually to the same degree.

High front vowels such as in ‘life’ and ‘tweet’ are often judged to be bright, small or cheery, while low back vowels as in ‘sad,’ ‘dark,’ and ‘mug’ are interpreted as being dim, large or dull. Word endings with a high vowel (-ie, -y) or a lateral consonant (-l, -le, -elle) are considered diminutive or less serious, and words ending with affricate sounds like ‘-ch’ are often considered unpleasant. So when native English speakers hear a nonsense word like ‘crulch,’ the immediate association for most of us is that, while we have no idea what it actually means, we assume it to be something unpleasant, clunky, and possibly sharp or sticky.

Sibilants like ‘s’ and fricatives like ‘sh’ often conjure a meaning related to soft, quiet, subtle, or subdued, which can be seen in words like squishy, plush, shady, sash, satin, silk, shadow, sappy, sheep, shame, sheesh, shush, shun, shy, and splash…. Sorry, got a bit carried away there. A few simple changes to the sound, like the addition of hard consonant sounds, can often give it a whole new connotation, as in sharp, stick, spit, swig, or shot. And those are just a few examples from the hundreds of complex, and under-studied, phoneme associations in English.

Shakespeare is famous for coining new words, many of which are now fully integrated and official. Words like ‘besmirch,’ which in context is recognizable almost instantly as meaning ‘to damage or soil one’s reputation,’ partly on the basis of its sibilant and affricate sounds. It conjures to mind similar sounding words, like soil, squelch, squish, switch, smirk, and itch, among others. ‘Gossip,’ ‘puking,’ and ‘bump’ are others that he invented, which likely stayed with us at least partially because their sounds fit so well with their meaning in the minds of English speakers.


Probably the best example of how nonsense words can be understood based largely on their sounds comes from Lewis Caroll. In Jabberwocky, almost half of the principle words were invented, and can only be understood because either they are an obvious portmanteau, or they are phonetically constructed to convey a certain impression. Even without the context of the poem, words like ‘mimsy,’ ‘slithy,’ and ‘vorpal’ give us a very good idea of what they might mean just by their sound.

Numerous authors and personalities have contributed new words over time, such as J.K. Rowling’s ‘muggle,’ Rudyard Kipling’s ‘grinching,’ or Nick Kaltenbronn’s ‘quiz’. The Oxford dictionary adds about a hundred new words every year, many of which are acronyms or portmanteaus, but some of which are pure invention. If their sound fits and the word becomes popular enough, they inevitably become established words. In addition, rare, freshly minted, or newly assembled words seem to hold a fascination for many of us. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of websites now dedicated to coined words and portmanteaus in English, and even a few designed to help you out with randomly inventing new words.

Isn’t English frabjous?


Word of the day: Absquatulate

(v.) /əbˈskwɒtjʊleɪt/

This one makes me giggle every time I see it, which, to be fair, is not often. I figured everyone can use a good chuckle on a Monday, so I hope you find it as amusing as I do. Absquatulate means to leave abruptly, often with the connotation of avoiding pursuit or not telling anyone where one is going. It can also be used in a noun form as ‘absquatulation.’

‘I heard that my boss was looking for volunteers, so I prepared to absquatulate.’
‘The criminal absquatulated to a non-extradition country.’
‘Every time I start the vaccuum, my cat absquatulates.’

Etymology: Mid 19th century. Blend (simulating a Latin form) of abscond, squattle ‘squat down’, and perambulate.

Word of the day: Nugacity

(n.)  /njuːˈɡasɪti/

Happy Friday! Here’s a fun little word for a ‘trivial or frivolous thing or idea.’ May your weekend be relaxing, and full of enjoyable nugacities.

I couldn’t take him seriously, every thing he did seemed to be a nugacity.

Etymology: Late 16th century. From late Latin nugacitas, from Latin nugax, nugac- ‘trifling, frivolous’.

Word of the day: Concinnity

(n.)  /kənˈsɪnɪti/

Concinnity is a rarely used yet beautiful word that can mean either a skilful and harmonious arrangement or fitting together of different parts (1) or a studied elegance of literary style or artistry (2). It refers to a deliberate attention to elements as part of a whole, and a focus on integrating different elements with grace and beauty, not merely efficiency. The connotations of quality over quantity are also appealing to me; I feel like we could all use more concinnity in our lives.

Examples of use:

1. Their plan for future endeavours outlined natural steps with a beautiful concinnity.
Focusing on the bottom line runs counter to any possible concinnity.
Concinnity is important if one wants to create something of lasting value.

2. No factory could create a thing of such beloved concinnity.
This piece of critically acclaimed art has a high degree of concinnity.

Etymology: Mid 16th century. From Latin concinnitas, from concinnus ‘skilfully put together’.

Word of the day: Abrogate

(v.)  /ˈabrəɡeɪt/

Here’s another nifty word that doesn’t get used much. It means to repeal or strike down a formal agreement, right, or law. Alternately, it can mean to disregard or evade one’s responsibilities. I think it carries a bit more impact than ‘repeal,’ for when you really want that extra emphasis. Be eloquent!

Examples of use:
1. The government rejected a proposal to abrogate the right to strike.
The law which prevented voting equality was abrogated many years ago.

2. We believe the board is abrogating its responsibilities to its shareholders.

There is also a noun form, abrogator: a person or thing which abrogates, or has abrogated, something.
Handy, right?

Etymology: Early 16th century; from the Latin abrogat- ‘repealed’, derived from the verb abrogare (ab- ‘away, from’ +rogare ‘propose a law’.)