Americans like to think of their country as a classless society, but of course it is not. The difference between the American system and that in some parts of the world is that, in America, one is not locked into class by birth; in America, it is possible to migrate from one class to another. Some sociologists, however, have maintained that, migration or no, one reveals his “class” origins through his choice of language.
Back in 1959, in a bestseller called The Status Seekers, Vance Packard pointed out a number of ways in which what was perceived as the American “classless society” was developing class distinctions.
What used to be one indication of class, the regional accent, seems to be disappearing today, probably as the result of changing neighborhoods and immigration patterns, the homogeneousness of accents in film and television, and people’s greater global mobility.
But what about another of Packard’s focuses—language? It is interesting to see how he divided certain words into categories of what he referred to as “U” (upper class) and “non-U” (not upper class). He was not alone. Sociologist E. Digby Baltzell, from the University of Pennsylvania noted, in 1987, that:
“The upper classes live in a house . . . use the toilet, the porch, library, or play-room. The middle classes reside in a home . . . use the lavatory, the veranda, den, or rumpus-room.”
In much the same way that people with “old money” had old (but good) furniture and lived in a happy state of disarray, and the nouveau riche preferred new furniture, the sociologists’ idea, whether valid or not, was that the middle class was “aspirational” and therefore trying to imitate what they erroneously perceived to be “upper-class” language.
Here is a selection of some words Packard and Baltzell considered “hot” words, in terms of revealing one’s “class.” Were these two social observers ever on target, and, if so, are they on target still?
“U” Words/“Non-U Words”
Rich/ Wealthy
Sick/ Ill
Sofa/ Couch
House/ Home
Library/ Den
Toilet/ Lavatory/powder room
Chaise/chaise longue/ Chaise lounge, chase lounge
In some cases, the sociologists’ assignment of words to one class or another is only amusing, but, in other cases, their assignments might provoke some discussion and differences of opinion.
With rich and wealthy, Packard’s observation may have been correct at the time, but today something else enters into the picture: financial advisors. Financial advisors like to call themselves “wealth managers” and refer to your money as your “wealth.” Indeed, some people might find managing their “riches” slightly shameful, but managing their “wealth” seems only prudent.
Sick usually has implicit in it (at least in the U.S.) “sick to one’s stomach,” and a need to be in close proximity to a bathroom, whereas ill seems to carry with it the sense of some severe or chronic illness that might require a hospital.
Although sofa and couch are often used interchangeably, Ms. Picky, just in terms of nuances of meaning, is inclined to think of a sofa as a piece of furniture one sits on, in a living room, whereas a couch is more of a place for lying down (from the French “se coucher” [to go to bed]), such as a daybed, or a psychiatrist’s couch. But that seems to do more with meaning than with class.
In terms of house vs. home, Ms. Picky thinks of a house as a physical structure, usually a freestanding one, whereas a home is anywhere a person lives—whether it be a palace or a cardboard box in a doorway. . . . Nevertheless, strangely, she catches herself inviting people to her “house,” when in fact she doesn’t live in a house at all, but in an apartment. (Perhaps she’s just a country girl at heart.)
A den always sounds a bit feral, like today’s “man cave,” but neither does the room where the family watches television at night, and the parents work via corporate VPN during the day, seem like a library. What should it be called?
The toilet/lavatory distinction seems to be more a British/American thing than a class thing. The Brits seem not to mind calling the room where the toilet is, a “toilet,” whereas Americans of any class, prefer to refer to that room by its other purpose—a “bathroom” or, in a restaurant, a rest room—even when they have no intention of using it for either bathing or resting. The term “powder room” (which makes one think of Victorian ladies and antimacassars) has been hijacked by real estate agents to mean a “half-bath,” or a room containing only a sink and a toilet, and reasonably accessible to guests—who do not then have to intrude upon the family’s more private rooms. The word lavatory seems mostly to have fallen into disuse, except among schoolteachers and schoolchildren. (Yes, Timmy, you may go to the lavatory now, but please don't dilly-dally in the hall.)
With chaise longue and chaise lounge, it’s easy to see where the differences arise: If one isn’t familiar with the term’s French meaning (“long chair”), there is an unfortunate similarity between the words longue and lounge, and the u and ng can be easily transposed by the mind to create a familiar, more appropriate word from an unfamiliar one with an uncertain pronunciation.
________
Bulletin Board
For D.Q.: Yes, mitigate and aggravate are opposites, and they are both used incorrectly in different ways.
Mitigate
Mitigate means to make a bad situation less bad, to temper it.
Example:
Her embarrassment at not remembering his name was mitigated by his friendly response.
Mitigate is often confused with militate, but the two are completely unrelated. To militate against something is to affect or influence it adversely. [As a mnemonic device, think of the root of militate, which is the same as the root of military, and is related to fighting; to militate against something is to fight against it.]
Examples:
The offense was mitigated by the fact that the robber, after having made off with $5000 in stolen jewelry, saved the life of a three-year-old child.
The lobbyists militated against many of the regulatory changes.
Aggravate
In the park recently, Ms. Picky heard a mother say ominously to a child who was being annoying, “Don’t aggravate me.” Although Ms. Picky sympathizes with the mother’s sentiments, she must take issue with her choice of words. Aggravate does not mean to annoy; it means to make something worse, to exacerbate an already bad situation, and people cannot be aggravated; only situations or moods can be aggravated.
Example:
His lack of sleep the night before only aggravated his bad mood.
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