No, it’s not related to the heartbreak of psoriasis. But this condition, extension-in-lexis, can be just as irritating to many confirmed lovers of language. So many of us who work with words want our tools to be well-defined and clear in meaning, but that is not the way it is to be.
Extension-in-lexis is defined as an: “Increase of the range of meanings of a given word, often through increase of figurative use.” And it happens all the time. For example, how many of us use the word blizzard to mean a snowstorm? The truth is, blizzard originally meant violent blows, a volley of words, or even a rifle shot… not a snowstorm. But on March 14, 1870, it was used in a newspaper to denote a violent snowstorm, and since that time constant usage in that context has reversed the preferred meanings. We talk about snow blizzards and assume that people know what we mean, but if we are referring to a boxing match where an person showers his opponent with violent blows, we may say “a blizzard of punches” as though to clarify this usage. Of course, the reality is that this was one of its original definitions.
Many words have their meaning changed over time, and as with blizzard, we modern writers may not even realize that we are contributing to the changing of language. Recently there was some discussion on a list I frequent, about the usage of the word tarmac. One staunch protector of original usage stated, and factually, that actual tarmac, or tar-macadam, is no longer used for runways because modern aircraft weigh too much for tarmac to support them. But because of constant historical usage, the meaning of tarmac has been extended to cover any sort of paving material used to construct runways and their associated taxiways, parking areas, and aircraft handling areas.
My own personally-aggravating word is decimate. Part of the word is “deci,” meaning one-tenth, and originally decimate was a way for the ancient Romans to achieve discipline. If a legion was being fractious and uncooperative, the leader of that legion might walk along the line of the formation and select every tenth legionnaire to be put to death–a strong deterrent to bad discipline. It was also used sometimes in controlling rebellious towns, by putting to death one tenth of the populace, or burning one tenth of the homes, and this meaning persisted into the 16th Century. Now, solemn-faced announcers proclaim that a town was decimated by an earthquake, when they really mean it was destroyed or devastated.
The word silly in the Middle Ages actually meant happy or blessed. Over time, it came to mean innocent or harmless… then to mean weak… and now denotes foolish or weak-minded. (Of course, the opposite side of this coin is the word nice, which in the 13th Century meant foolish or stupid, and now has a much more pleasant definition, though rather soft-edged and vague.)
Of course, it’s not just ancient times that created extensions-in-lexis. How about the word boot? Sure, it’s footwear, but as often as not nowadays we use it to talk about starting a computer, or restarting (rebooting.) And whence came that meaning? It came from bootstrapping older computers, which in turn came from the expression “to pull oneself up by one’s bootstraps” or to get oneself started without assistance.
There are also words derived from real words by seemingly logical extension, but which have no root in reality. The word uncouth in Old English originally meant unknown or strange, but over the centuries came to mean not just unknown, but unknown to be used by polite society; in a word, impolite or rude. So, we now have people who say, “He has no couth.” But there never was a word couth that meant anything in the original language, Old English. It’s a new coinage, really.
I suppose what I’m getting to is this: language is a mutable and constantly changing thing, and extension-in-lexis is only one small part of how it grows and develops over time. No matter how much the anal-retentive among us might like to keep a corral around the language, strictly defining how words are used, it can’t be done. Language is a maverick thing, and very much alive, and will not be caged.
Copyright ©2009 Tony Burton

#1 by Jonathan Quist on October 6th, 2009
I’m famous!
Sort of.
Yes, as a former pilot, I tend towards precise (some would say curbludgeonly) regarding any aviation-related verbage, such as “tarmac”. Yes, I acknowledge the common usage, but no, I will never use that particular term in conflict with its original meaning – so I confess to occasionally suggesting others do the same, including on Dorothy-L. (Forgive me, I’m also an engineer.)
“Silly” is one of my wife’s favorites, and I’m glad to find it noted here, though I’ll add that, at least within my family when I was a child, “silly” was synonymous with “humorous” – it was not a term of disparagement. At least, not if “disparage” means the same thing today as it did then.
Regardless, I was glad to see that “The Aggravation of Extension-in-Lexis” is not an essay about shoddy quality control in reclining leather bucket seats. In spite of my occasional rants about “tarmac”, my most frequent diatribe is in total agreement with Tony: “The colloquialism _is_ the language.”
It matters not if you are speaking in Southern genteel, urban slang, or Standard Broadcast English (US or BBC, take your pick). If it’s in common usage, it’s still English. If you want to write in a static language, try classical Latin. If you want a pure language? Maybe Proto-Algonkian. Certainly not English, with its unpedigreed (but wonderfully rich) ancestry.
Or am I just being silly?
jeq
#2 by Tony Burton on October 6th, 2009
No, Jonathan… you are being “nice.”
Tony
#3 by Jonathan Quist on October 6th, 2009
Thank you!
Uh… I think.
#4 by Hitch on October 7th, 2009
As I believe I mentioned on DL, the word “decimate” also means (Websters): “to destroy a large part of – decimation.” Therefore, I think it is accurate for the Talking Heads on the idiot box to refer to significant destruction as “decimation,” even though this is not in keeping with its archaic usage. I haven’t checked in my OED (still sadly in packing boxes), but I suspect it too will list destruction amongst the accepted definitions.
#5 by Tony Burton on October 7th, 2009
I don’t argue that “decimate” is being used wrongly in accordance with modern usage. Indeed, that is the point of the entire peroration, to wit: language changes, no matter how much we might be annoyed by it. Decimate has been used to mean “to destroy a large part of something” since the late 17th century, but that still irritates some pedantically-minded folks such as myself, who expect the meaning of a word to relate directly to its antecedents.
To me, it’s like, over time, thinking that it is acceptable to say that a centimeter can mean as much as one-third of a meter. It’s inaccurate to take a word that inherently means a measured portion (one-tenth, one-hundredth, etc.) and define it as you like. In England of the 16th and early 17th century, the word even meant to take a tithe of someone’s possessions–but even then it meant the literal tithe, or one-tenth.
But I’m swimming against the tide here. As I said in the post, language will not stay within any cage we create for it.
#6 by carl brookins on October 7th, 2009
Having some interest in words and there proper and improper uses…and I do, this was an interesting piece. One of my ongoing problems with my critique group is the use/choice of words. One member is a trained linguist. It’s what he teaches.
Jargon and the use of odd words, particularly for certain…shall we say….bodily functions always elicits a lively discussion, not to say argument. But that’s also true of sometimes commonalities as well. The English language is, I understand, particularly prone to modification and aberration.
#7 by Tony Burton on October 7th, 2009
Carl, I think one reason for that is that the world in general is becoming so “blended,” for lack of a better term. In the 13th century, a person in the middle of the island that is now called England might go his or her entire life without meeting anyone who spoke a different language. Now, it’s hard for a person in England, or America, to go for a whole day without meeting someone whose native tongue is not English. Our verbal culture is full of words whose origins are elsewhere: rodeo, algebra, hamburger, etc. Even for a word whose roots we can trace directly to Old English, the question remains: was it originally a Saxon word? Celtic? Norman French? Even the word “egg” is from the Norman French.
#8 by mertoonoleque on December 12th, 2009
Sorry for writing OFFTOPIC … which wordpress template do you use? Looks amazing!!
#9 by Tony Burton on December 13th, 2009
I use Arclite as my WordPress theme.