Algospeak
By Adam Aleksic
Penguin Random House
My 17-year-old cringes each time my husband or I use (now-outdated) slang terms like “rizz” and “suss.”
“Ewww, mom!” She cries – which of course incentivizes us to use them more.
Tjese in-house exchanges also inspired me to check out the new book “Algospeak: How Social Media is Transforming the Future of Language” by young linguist influencer/TikTok-er Adam Aleksic (@etymologynerd).
The book doesn't just unpack the origins of recent/current slang terms shared online, but also demonstrates how and why a word’s meaning may profoundly shift (looking at you, “preppy”); how influencers adopt similar rhetorical and verbal strategies to attract and retain viewers; why and how fringe groups like incels develop their own slang online (and how those words eventually enter the mainstream); the role appropriation often plays in the adoption of new terms; how fragmenting online subcultures into even more specific microcultures, via algorithms, benefits marketers; and how the adaptability of a word or phrase often contributes to its longevity.
Being a writer with two slang-slinging teens in my home makes me an ideal reader for "Algospeak," of course. But, honestly, anyone with even a passing interest in online culture and language evolution will learn a ton from Aleksic's accessible, fun, and fascinating book.
As a point of entry, Aleksic discusses the fallout from a Museum of Pop Culture exhibit in Seattle that commemorated the 30th anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death: "When you get there … you're shocked by the first placard under the display. It doesn't say your favorite singer killed himself. It doesn't say that he 'committed suicide.' Instead, it tells you that 'Kurt Cobain un-alived himself at 27.'"
Older visitors argued that this word choice trivialized suicide, and the backlash online went viral – to the point that the museum changed the placard just days later. But as Aleksic explains, the term "un-alive" first took root as a means of working around government censorship in China, and has since become a healthy way for young people around the world to speak more openly about depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation: "It's what their classmates are more comfortable saying, and since it gives kids a new way to express themselves, 'unalive' will probably only continue to grow in popularity."
Plus, this is hardly be the first time we've used words to make death less scary, as Aleksic points out.
If there's one overarching, recurring theme in "Algospeak," it's the role playfulness has in the evolution of English online – from the coded use of certain emojis to deliberate misspellings of words to get around censors ("seggs" = sex, for one). As soon as one workaround is flagged, a new one appears in its place, making the policing of social media an impossible game of whac-a-mole. When slang words start being used by mainstream "olds" like me (see my daughter's response above), more new words are coined, and often appropriated, from the online subcultures that regularly forge them.
These subcultures include 4chan, ballroom/drag, and more broadly African American English. Aleksic is admittedly troubled by this: "The fast pace of how words travel along increasingly adjacent social networks begets ignorance or misconceptions about where the words came from in the first place. … While the people popularizing ('Gyat' and 'ahh') most likely didn't mean harm, they're unintentionally responsible for reinforcing racist stereotypes of Black people as overly expressive or dramatic."
A valid point. But again, the kind of creative playfulness with language that's regularly on display online has an undeniable pull, so that what begins as a bit of in-group wordplay inevitably often becomes the next big meme overnight.
Because of our increasingly short attention span, "Algorithms have … changed the way we tell stories," Aleksic writes. " … It's hard to get a detailed point across within the constraint of a minute, and too much nuance can be confusing to viewers when you're trying to retain their attention. This means that creators have largely eschewed complexity in favor of virality. … The human brain really likes simplicity."
This is a primary reason for TikTok's addictiveness, of course. As has been widely reported, this trend is not doing humans' any favors, in terms of our ability to sustain focus, our productivity, and our mental health.
The news Aleksic delivers in "Algospeak" isn't all bad, though. The malleability of language can also provide a little freedom where there otherwise is none.
"Centralized social media platforms might seem nominally easy to control, but we've clearly shown ourselves to be quite ingenious at algospeak," Aleksic writes. "Mass communication has been put into the hands of everyday citizens, meaning that language can do its own thing, unfettered from government inhibition."
Given recent threats to free speech not just globally, but domestically, this passage came as a welcome reminder that as long as we can think independently, we can find new and creative ways to communicate with each other – no matter how much side-eye our suss posts may attract from opps.
(Now you'll excuse me while I go show that last sentence to my daughter … )
