TikTok is changing how Gen Z speaks
Summary
- On social media new words spread far and fast
THE WORD “demure" is old—it describes the sort of modest lady Victorians esteemed—but it is freshly fashionable. There are some 800,000 posts on TikTok with the tag #demure. Youngsters today are using the word with lashings of irony, invoking it to describe everything from Saturn to sunset to New York City’s bin service.
TikTok is changing how young people talk. Other fusty words, such as “coquette", are fashionable again. Colloquialisms are on the rise: members of Gen Z say “yapping" instead of “talking" and trim “delusional" to “delulu". New words have also become popular. Take “skibidi", a term popularised by a meme of an animated head singing in a toilet; it means “cool", “bad" or “very", depending on the context.
On social media words spread far and fast. At least 100 English words are produced, or given new meaning, on TikTok a year, reckons Tony Thorne, director of the Slang and New Language Archive at King’s College London. Some linguists think the platform is changing not just what youngsters are saying, but how they are saying it. A “TikTok accent", which includes “uptalk", an intonation that rises at the end of sentences, may be spreading.
The platform’s versatility encourages experimentation. Users can combine audio, text and video in a single post. That means words that sound especially satisfying can go viral, as well as those that are memorable in written form. Linguistic code has emerged, dubbed “algospeak", to dodge content-moderation algorithms. It includes euphemisms (sex workers are called “accountants"), and misspellings (“seggs" instead of sex).
The mutation of language on TikTok is also due, in large part, to the age of its users. Most are 18-34 years old. That matters because “Young people are language innovators," says Christian Ilbury, a linguist at the University of Edinburgh. For decades youngsters have created words to distinguish themselves from adults. On social media such neologisms find a big audience. Mr Ilbury describes this as “linguistic identity work"; parents have long called it attention-seeking.
The platform brings together fan groups and communities, from #kpopfans (people who like Korean pop music) to #booktokers (people who love reading). These groups create their own slang, says Adam Aleksic, a linguist and influencer. Some of it leaks into the mainstream. Other slang comes from specific groups: black people have innovated and spread hundreds of English words over the years, from “cool" to “tea" (gossip). Journalists and screenwriters popularise such words; now TikTokers do, too.
All of this speeds up the evolution of language. That delights logophiles but befuddles dictionary-makers, who must keep a record of the ever-expanding lexicon. The keep up with modern parlance. The OED is just now adding words such as “binge-worthy", which already feels tired; its own “word of the year" for 2023, “rizz" (charm), which originated and was popularised online, has not yet made the cut. TikTok has just the phrase to describe such a modest approach: very demure.
© 2024, The Economist Newspaper Ltd. All rights reserved.
From The Economist, published under licence. The original content can be found on www.economist.com
