“What I would just say to you”, as I “chunk it down”, is that the current PM – or should that be CEO – Christopher Luxon, is bedevilled by criticism. He is notorious for slipping into corporate speak.
The prize goes to commentator Matthew Hooton. After a Luxon State of the Nation address, he said Mr Luxon demonstrated his talent for “gathering large numbers of words together that, combined, manage to be entirely devoid of meaning”.
This PM language topic came to mind after Civis watched a programme recently added to Netflix. A few days later came news that Prime Minister had landed two Emmy nominations.
The documentary follows the political and private life of Dame Jacinda during her five years as prime minister. It is co-produced by her husband, Clarke Gayford.
What a study in contrasting language styles. Mr Luxon is criticised for cold, hollow corporate language that alienates ordinary people. Dame Jacinda cops it for warm words that might be too polished, too carefully curated and, ultimately, too fuzzy.
That's not what the Washington Post thought. Her regular use of interviews, press conferences and social media during Covid times was “a masterclass in crisis communication”.
Former prime minister Helen Clark said Dame Jacinda was a natural and empathetic communicator who didn't preach at people, but instead signalled she was “standing with them”. Her “team of five million” and “they are us” resonated.
Dame Jacinda largely projected authenticity. Nevertheless, Civis was frustrated by her lack of consistent straight talk during those 1pm Covid media conferences.
It wasn't that Dame Jacinda backed away from hard decisions — the lockdown and vaccination calls were proof of that. But sometimes you can have your fill, and then some, of apparent empathy and supposed kindness.
As her government continued through its second term, were “kindness” and “empathy”, in the end, a cover for underdelivery?
Intriguingly, for someone who completed a bachelor of communication studies at Waikato University, Dame Jacinda employs some decidedly old-fashioned language.
She was always prone to saying “whilst” rather than the simpler “while”. “Amongst’’ instead of ‘‘among’’ was heard four or even five times during Prime Minister.
Where did those flowery, even pretentious, affectations come from? Might it relate to her Mormon upbringing?
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints uses a Bible based on the King James Version (1611) – thou knowest it's packed with ancient language and plenty of “st” verb endings.
No doubt Dame Jacinda grew up with these sounds. However, if an AI search can be trusted, “among” outnumbers “amongst” 549 times to 117 in the King James Bible, and “while” out-tallies ‘‘whilst’’ 135 times to 10.
Shakespeare, also about 1600, used among and while far more than amongst and whilst.
Civis has also read that Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels (1726) used plenty of modern forms and none of the older ones. Swift also used neither “amid” nor “amidst”, both now old-fashioned. Perhaps, however, “in the midst of life” remains palatable.
Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities includes “while” 98 times and “among” 104 – zero for the “st” forms, but three for “amid”.
Does Dame Jacinda slip into archaic language unbeknownst to herself?
