Peter Moore: Why are Americans stealing our slang?

No one in America would have called President Roosevelt or even Ronald Reagan bonkers.

This is not because no one thought they might be bonkers but because the average American would not have known the word bonkers. Now, at last, some are thinking that, perhaps, Donald Trump is bonkers.

The American generation Z, aged between eighteen and twenty-eight, are reaping the benefits of British slang. Bonkers is the fastest-growing British slang word in the US. For years US television influenced British youth, but now, at last, British television is influencing American youth. Programmes (not programs) such as Love Island and Adolescence have had an impact.

Research by the language learning platform Babbel and Northern Arizona University has tracked the impact of different words and phrases. They have a database of five million words and 1,000 hours of spoken American English.

Young Americans are even starting to queue and not stand in line, although it is open for debate whether they are as good at queueing as us Brits. They are even studying maths rather than math.

Now an American can be flummoxed and gobsmacked by a posh nutter wearing dodgy trousers getting into a kerfuffle after a bit of banter led to some aggro. At the risk of upsetting a family paper, it’s a load of bollocks. I’ll avoid the word that rhymes with rugger even though it has been used by the King.

Some American mothers have even complained that Peppa Pig is affecting their toddlers, who are talking about tomatoes, not “tamatoes”. These complaints are not new. In the seventeenth century, when the USA gained independence, the citizens of the new republic complained about English expressions polluting their speech. They even used “awfully” to mean “very”, which was awfully British.

The usual complaint is the other way round, Americanisms corrupting British youth. “Hey, you guys, that’s really cool,” and so it is good to get revenge.

Ironically many of the British expressions are coming from British TV and movies made by American companies such as Netflix, Apple, Disney and Amazon. Now these companies are building studios in the UK; eventually more films and TV will be made here than in Hollywood.

The final irony is that many American expressions were changed on this side of the Atlantic. Shakespeare called autumn “the fall” and said, “I guess”.

What the Americans do not always understand is the British ability to say the opposite of what we mean. We say “Yea, right” when we disagree. If something is a disaster, we say, “yea, bloody brilliant,” or a stupid comment is met with “genius”.

We are not as good as the Americans at criticising others. Trinity College London found that out of two thousand people surveyed, half regularly used phrases to avoid confrontation. We skirt around the issues. When asked to join a social engagement, we may say, “I’ll think about it and let you know,” rather than “I’d rather have my teeth pulled out without anaesthetic by an unqualified dentist.” Or “Can I squeeze past you?” rather than “Get out of the way fatty.” “Not to worry” or “could be worse” means “this is a disaster”.

How do we tell someone they are talking rubbish? We start with “with great respect”. We then go on with “I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate” or “That’s one way to look at it.”

The Americans deliberately tried to rationalise spelling, but there is no sign that they are planning to revert to our spelling. I would hate it if we adopted their ideas with Torquay Harbour or the Princess Theatre.

By the time this is published, Trump will have changed again, but at the time of writing, there is a 10 per cent tariff on UK goods imported into America. Can we apply a tariff to our language which the Americans use and abuse without paying a penny or a cent to the country where this language was invented? They are obviously ripping us off, or do they think we’re bonkers?