Bedint (pronounced buh-dent (U) or bed-ent (non-U))
(1) Something which suggests
a bourgeois aspiration to the tastes or habits of the upper classes.
(2) A generalized
expression of disapproval of anyone or anything not in accord with the social
standards or expectation of the upper classes.
(3) Any behavior thought
inappropriate (ie something of which one for whatever reason disapproves).
1920s: A coining attributed to variously to (1)
English writer, politician and diplomat Harold Nicolson (2) his wife, the
writer Vita Sackville-West or (3) speculatively, Vita
Sackville-West’s family. The word is of Germanic
origin and although there are variants, the source of all was the Middle Dutch bedienen, the construct being be- + dienen. The
Middle Dutch be- was from the Old
Dutch bi- & be-, from the Middle High German be-, from the Old High German bi-,
from the Proto-Germanic bi-, from the
primitive Indo-European hepi and was
used to indicate a verb is acting on a direct object. Dienen
was from the Middle Dutch dienen,
from the Old Dutch thienon, from the
Proto-Germanic þewanōną and meant "to
be of assistance to, to serve; to serve (at a tavern or restaurant); to operate
(a device)". In the rituals of the Roman
Catholic Church, it has the specific technical meaning "to administer the
last sacraments (the last rites)". A bedient (the second third-person
singular present indicative of bedienen)
was thus a servant, a waiter etc. The acceptable pronunciation is buh-dent while bed-int, be-dit or anything else is the depth of bedintism. Bedint is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bedints. As a non-standard word, there are no derived forms but, for humorous effect, some have appeared including the nouns, bedintism bedinity & bedintism and the adjectives bedinted, bedintish & bedintesque. The noun bedintologist is non-standard but there are a lot of amateur bedintologists active. Caution must be exercised because the very use of the word can be condemned as bedint.
Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.
The idea thus is exemplified
by a maître d'hôtel (head waiter) who, well dressed and well mannered, appears
superficially not dissimilar to someone from the upper classes but of course is
someone from a lower class, adopting for professional reasons, some of their characteristics
(dress, manner, speech (and sometimes snobbery) etc). Whoever coined the word, it was certainly popularized
by Harold Nicholson and Vita Sackville-West, neither of whom were much reticent in finding fault in others.
It seems initially to have been their shared code for discussing such
things but soon became common currency amongst the smart set in which they
moved and from there, eventually entered the language although not all
dictionaries acknowledge its existence and it should probably be thought non-standard. It one of those words which need not be taken too seriously and is most fun to use if played with a bit (bedintish, bedintesque, bedintingly bedinded, bedintism, bedintology etc). As a word, although
from day one weaponized, bedint was subject to mission-creep to the point
where, as Lewis Carroll's (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832–1898) Humpty Dumpty "in rather a scornful tone" explained to Alice in Alice Through the Looking-Glass (1871): "When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither
more nor less."
Figures from that lost, pre-1914 world: Harold Nicolson (1886-1968) &
Vita Sackville-West (1892-1962), London, 1913.
As originally used by Nicolson &
Sackville-West, bedint was one the many linguistic tools of exclusion and snobbery; these devices exist among all social classes, some of which, when part of “working-class consciousness” or similar constructs are classified
as “inverted snobbery”. Bedint was used to refer to anyone not from the layers of the upper class (royalty, the aristocracy,
the gentry) in some way aping the behavior or manners of “their betters”; the
behavior need not be gauche or inappropriate, just that of someone “not one of
us”. Nicolson didn’t exclude himself
from his own critique and, as one who “married up” into the socially superior Sackville
family, was his whole life acutely aware of what behaviors of his might be
thought bedint, self-labelling as he thought he deserved. His marriage he never thought at all bedint although
many of those he condemned as bedint would have found it scandalously odd,
however happy the diaries of both parties suggest that for almost 50 years
it was.
Harold Nicolson &
Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1932.
Bedint as a word proved
so useful however that it came to be applied to members of the upper classes
(even royalty) were they thought guilty of some transgression (like dullness) or
hobbies thought insufficiently aristocratic (ie "a bit middle class" which was about as bad as insults got).
The idea of some behavior not befitting one’s social status was thus still
a thread but by the post-war years, when bedint had entered vocabulary of the middle-class
(a bedint thing in itself one presumes Nicolson and Sackville-West would have
thought), it was sometimes little more than a synonym for bad behavior (poor
form as they might have said), just an expression of disapproval. That didn't mean all "non-typical" behavior was bedint because certain eccentricities or a bohemian lifestyle might be tolerated or even admired. Bedint-tagging can thus be thought as something within the rubric of labeling theory and to this day there are many practicing bedintologists although not all will be familar with the word.
Harold Nicolson &
Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1960.
The biographical
work on Nicolson reveals a not especially likable snob but, in common with many
fine and sharp-eyed diarists, he seems to have been good company though perhaps
best enjoyed in small doses. One of
those figures (with which English political life is studded) remembered principally
for having been almost a successful politician,
almost a great writer or almost a viceroy (the latter perhaps more in his mind than that of the cabinet), he even managed
to be almost a lord but, despite switching party allegiances to curry favor
with the Labour government (1945-1951), the longed-for peerage was never
offered and he was compelled to accept a knighthood. His KCVO (Knight Commander of the Royal
Victorian Order, an honor in the personal gift of the sovereign) was granted
in 1953 in thanks for his generous (though well-reviewed and received) biography
of the stamp-collecting George V (1865-1936, King of England 1910-1936) although those who
could read between the lines found it not hard to work out which of the monarch’s activities the author thought bedint. As it was, Nicolson took his KCVO, several rungs down the ladder of the Order of Precedence, accepting it only "faute de mieux" (in the absence of
anything better) and describing it “a bedint
knighthood”, wondering if, given the shame, he should resign from his
clubs.
Wedding day: Duff Cooper & Lady Diana Manners, St Margaret's Church, London, 2 June 1919.
So a knighthood, a thing which many have craved, can be bedint if it's not the right knighthood. When the Tory politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) ended his term (1944-1948) as the UK's ambassador to France, the Labor government (which had kept him on) granted a GCMG and although he thought his years as a cabinet minister might have warranted a peerage, he accepted while wryly noting in his diary it was hardly something for which he should be congratulated because: "No ambassador in Paris has ever failed to acquire the it since the order was invented and the Foreign Office has shown how much importance they attach to it by conferring it simultaneously on my successor Oliver Harvey (1893-1968), who is, I suppose, the least distinguished man who has ever been appointed to the post". Still, Cooper took his "bedint" GCMG and when a Tory government returned to office, he was, shortly before his death, raised to the peerage, choosing to be styled Viscount Norwich of Aldwick. His wife (Lady Diana Cooper (1892–1986) didn't fancy becoming "Lady Norwich" because she though it "sounded like porridge" (additionally, she had good "brand recognition") and took the precaution of placing notices in The Times and Daily Telegraph telling all who mattered she would continue to be styled "Lady Diana Cooper". They had a "modern marriage" so differences between them were both negotiated and not infrequent.
A faute de mieux moment: Lindsay Lohan with “award surfboard”, The Teen Choice Awards 2004 cermony, Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, Los Angeles, California, 8 August, 2004.
From his
grave, Harold Nicolson might be amused that since his death more attention has
be paid to the details of his remarkable marriage than his careers in politics,
diplomacy or literature, despite the latter yielding a biography of his father,
a best-selling life of George V, a study of Mrs Charles Lindbergh’s (1906-2001)
father, novels and historical works. Of
all he wrote, perhaps the one that will continue to be mined for “source
material” was the most “postmodern”: the pseudo-autobiographical Some People (1927), the Author’s Note cautioning
“…many of the
following sketches are purely imaginary. Such truths as they may contain are only
half-truths”. A book thus with
modern qualities and whether it revealed much about its subjects can be debated
but it was an insight into the author, not so much what he was but how he
wished to be perceived. Nicolson clearly
conveyed this was not a work to be read by bedints with an ostentatious use of
devices of the type Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called a “pride of knowledge”: Much of Some People was in French, the text
littered with untranslated allusions to classical literature and words (some long assimilated into English) appearing in the original Ancient Greek script. Genuinely, it’s an often amusing work even
bedints can enjoy in translation (it’s ideal for a hypertext edition) but old
Henry Fowler would not have been impressed and would likely have dismissed the
devices as “pretentious”. Others, well acquainted with Nicolson's social aspirations, called it “a
cad’s book”.
Vita Sackville-West (left) and Violet Trefusis (right),
Villa dell'Ombrellino, Florence, Italy, circa 1920. The Tuscan estate belonged to Ms Trefuis's mother, Alice Keppel (1868–1947) a long-time mistress of Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910).
It was an indication of how important
it was for Nicolson not to be though bedint although, of course, as he likely
would have admitted, trying so hard is about as bedint as things get but if
anything, it was the publication in 1973 of Portrait
of a Marriage by his son (Nigel Nicolson, 1917–2004) that confirmed him (among
those few who much dwelt on the matter) as “really not a bedint”. The book was a son’s unadorned tale of his bisexual
parents' extramarital arrangements but so convivial were the agreements between
them about the many trysts and affairs it seems absurd to characterize them as
infidelities, indeed, nothing as romantic as Vita Sackville-West's “elopement”
with Violet Trefusis (1894–1972) could possibly be thought bedint. Indisputably a snob and a racist, Nicolson divided
the planet’s population (that literally was his vista) in a tiny racial, social
and intellectual aristocracy (with which he self-identified) and “the rest”; in that he wasn’t greatly different from many except in using “bedint” as a
kind of convenient shorthand he did display what more than one biographer and
critic would call his “inferiority complex” (one acquaintance
labelling him “a
national figure of the second degree”). Like his contemporary the expatriate American
Sir Henry "Chips" Channon (1897–1958), his ambition was to be rich
and be raised to the peerage although such was his character it may be than
even had he collected a viscountcy, he’d have begun to fret about not being an
earl, that notch on the peerage a kind of fence between them and the “bedint lords”. Certainly he anticipated the title would one
day come, planning to commandeer one of the vacant Sackville titles, his name “insufficiently aristocratic”
despite the pleasing “elegance of the absent ‘h’”. Curiously, despite blatantly being anti-Semitic
and contemptuous of most of the usual suspects (working class, middle class,
foreigners etc) he supported the Balfour Declaration (1917), advocated for the
creation of the state of Israel, was appalled by the Treaty of Versailles
(1919), approved of the League of Nations (1920-1945), applauded the Beveridge
Report (the 1942 paper by Sir William Beveridge, (1879–1963) detailing the original framework of the post-war welfare state) and ended up in the Labour Party.
No biography of Nicolson has made him seem especially “likeable” but
among history’s footnotes he remains memorable, a quality transcending bedintism.
The
BEM (British
Empire Medal), the lowest of the six rungs of the Order of the
British Empire.
Politicians would regard
the BEM as “a bedint award for bedints” and would be insulted if offered one.As a
species, politicians have a sense of entitlement like few others and while that’s
hardly a revelation, what is amusing is to speculate whether the “pathologically
entitled” are drawn to the business or it grows in them as they notice the
trough seems always to be topped up no matter how deep they bury their
snouts. More amusing still is to create
two lists categorizing politicians as one or the other and what’s striking is
how few don’t make the cut for either. As
a breed, one thing to which most felt entitled was an honor, and from minor
worthies such as mayors hoping for a OBE (Officer of the Most Excellent Order
of the British Empire) to put them a notch above the nurse given an MBE (a Member
in the same order) for many decades of dedicated service, to cabinet ministers
lobbying for a knighthood or peerage, the lure has always been strong. There have been exceptions. Enoch Powell (1912–1998) declined the offer
of a life peerage on the basis the proffered barony “wasn’t hereditary”;
presumably he thought a “non-ongoing nobility” just too bedint to be
contemplated while others would make light of being dubbed. Sir Arthur Fadden (1894–1973; Prime Minister
of Australia Aug-Oct 1941) was in 1951 made a KCMG (Knight Commander of the
Most Distinguished Order of St Michael and St George) and to mark his
retirement from politics in 1958 he was elevated to GCMG (Knight Grand Cross in
the same order). He welcomed the new
honor by remarking: “Twice a knight, not bad at my age.”
There have
also been politicians who seemed to find the whole honors system totally naff. Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of
Australia 1991-1996) declined the more or less obligatory AC (Companion of the
Order of Australia (the de facto “top-of-the-tree” since the AK (Knight of the same
order) went into abeyance after a brief and controversial revival by Tony
Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015)) on the basis “…prime ministers
are well-rewarded for their service” although it’s tempting to think
while Mr Keating might have thought most
honors were too bedint for him to accept, given his self-regard, he might have
been tempted if offered a dukedom; there hasn’t been (a non-royal) one of them
created for 150-odd years and they’re no longer as costly as once they were. He made one memorable speech making his
disdain clear. Rising in the House of
Representatives on 27 February, 1992, he castigated conservative politicians
for” “…still
looking for your MBEs and your KCMGs and all the rest of the regalia… we will
have no bar of you or your sterile ideology.
Lord Salisbury speaking in
the House of Lords
(1894), supplement to The Graphic, after a chromolithograph by Sydney Prior
Hall (1842-1922). In Great Contemporaries (1937), Winston
Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) alluded to
Salisbury's many years as prime minister: “...venerable, august Lord Salisbury, Prime Minister since
God knew when.”
Mostly
though, politicians’ lust for honors has been strong and many went beyond dropping
hints to lobbying. George Goschen (1831–1907)
served in the British government as an “average Chancellor of the Exchequer”
and “competent First Lord of the Admiralty” but his many years in office were
noted more for the effluxion of time than substantive achievement. Despite that, Goschen of course felt “entitled”
to a seat in the Lords and even fretted about the name he’d adopt upon being ennobled,
telling the prime minister he’d decide when told what grade he’d be getting,
adding he hoped his elevation would not be announced as “…one of a batch”, making clear a viscountcy
was merely “rations”
for a retiring cabinet minister and his long service entitled him to go up a
notch. His arguments failed to impress
the prime minister (Lord Salisbury (1830–1903; UK Prime Minister for thirteen
years variously 1885-1902)) who told his secretary he was prepared only to
create him a viscount, something that prompted Goschen to impose himself on the
secretary for a long session of advocacy; it proved unproductive, the secretary
laconically minuting the prime minister: “Accepts Viscountcy: would have liked an Earldom.” Resigned to this faute de mieux, he entered the House of Lords as Viscount Goschen
of Hawkhurst, his contributions in that place little noticed and soon forgotten.
Had the
word then existed, Salisbury might have though Goschen’s conduct “typical
bourgeois bedintism” while reflecting on twice being offered a dukedom by Victoria
(1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901).
Salisbury had told the queen he was appalled by the prohibitive cost of maintaining what was then a ducal lifestyle and that he’d anyway rather have “an ancient
marquessate than a modern dukedom.”
In truth, when the offers were made, the Salisbury marquessate was
barely a hundred years old (the prime minister the third marquis) although
the titled roots of the Cecil family went back centuries. Still, “ancient” is how it’s defined and Joachim
von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) justified being (at
the age of 33) adopted by an aunt (in exchange for payment though she had troubles when seeking to enforce the contract) in order to append
the nobiliary particle “von” to his name on the basis of “not wishing to see an ancient branch of the family
go extinct”. That branch was then
of a 40 year vintage and the “purchased von” was within the Nazi Party a
source of contemptuous humor, the acerbic Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi
Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945) summing him up in a
diary entry of typically waspish succinctness: “He bought his name, married his money and swindled his way
into office”. Had Goebbels
been aware of “bedint”, that’s what he’d have labelled the inept foreign
minister; in the upper echelons of the party, other than the genius of the Führer, there was little agreement about much but all (except Hitler) who knew him, agreed Ribbentrop was a nincompoop.
Mr Infantino (right) presents President Trump (left) with the FIFA Peace Prize, Kennedy (-Trump) Center, Washington
DC, 5 December, 2025.
So there are those (Nicholson and Powell) who like the
idea of awards but find all but the most exalted bedintish, those (Keating) who
think them all baubles and trinkets, those (Fadden) who accept them without
taking things too seriously and those (just about everybody else) who yearn for
one and will plot and scheme to secure the best on offer. That more or less covers the field for awards
with a history but there has been the odd announcement of a creation existing apparently
for the purpose of honouring a certain individual. In 2025, Gianni Infantino (b 1970; president
of FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (International
Federation of Association Football) since 2016) presented the “FIFA Peace Prize”
to Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) and that there was a
FIFA Prize was something unknown to most.
One of the ironies of there being something in the human condition that
seems to doom the race to war is that since the early twentieth century (the
years since hardly peaceful) literally dozens of “peace prizes” have been established,
handed usually to individuals or institutions judged to have made a worthy
contribution to making us less inclined to follow our warlike ways. The best-known is of course the Nobel Peace
Prize although that award’s reputation has been tainted by some of its
recipients having belonged to the “give
war a chance” school and the perception of some it has become a DEI (diversity, equality & inclusion) prize, Barack Obama (b 1961;
POTUS 2009-2017) becoming the 2009 laureate apparently on the basis of “not being George W. Bush (George XLIII, b
1946; POTUS 2001-2009)”. In
announcing their decision, the Norwegian Nobel Committee cited President Obama’s
“extraordinary
efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples”,
encouraging a “new
climate” in international relations so that’s there for people to
make of what they will.
According
to Mr Infantino, FIFA’s improbable entry into the peace prize industry was to “reward individuals who have taken
exceptional and extraordinary actions for peace and by doing so have united
people across the world” and that certainly sounds worth acknowledging
although in 2025 not all were convinced President Trump was an exemplar of such
conduct. Indeed, there were cynical
observers who accused Mr Infantino of having “ulterior motives” and (not so
well) “hidden
agendas” (which seems a harsh thing to say of the successor to SeppBlatter (b 1936; President of FIFA 1998-2015)), noting the US being one of the
hosts of the 2026 FIFA World Cup and Mr Trump’s undisguised belief richly he deserves
the Nobel Peace Prize (if the committee had a sense of absurdist humor they’d
confer the literature prize because of the contribution to civilization of Trump: The Art of the Deal (1987). While
most seemed to dismiss the FIFA Peace Prize as distinctly bedint (or worse), President
Trump accepted gracefully, calling the award “one of the great honours of my life”,
presumably impressed it required nothing like the aggressive campaign
(including nominations by a number of world leaders) that proved fruitless when
assessed by the Nobel committee. Later,
the president returned the favour by suggesting Mr Infantino should succeed António
Guterres (b 1949, UN (United Nations) secretary-general since 2017) as UN
secretary-general when his second five-year term expires. In terms of administrative experience that
was a defensible recommendation because while the UN comprises 195 states (the
Holy See and Palestine non-voting members with observer status), FIFA encompasses
not less than 211 national member associations (as well as those of sovereign states,
there are historic entities (England, Scotland, Wales & Northern Ireland),
non-sovereign territories and dependencies (including Puerto Rico, Hong Kong
& Aruba) and the six “umbrella” continental bodies).
While it
seems improbable Mr Infantino will take the helm of the UN (apart for all else,
it’s not “Europe’s turn”), he has plenty to deal with including securing
another term as FIFA president, his carefully “sewn-up” numbers having “frayed
at the edges” after the controversy over his abortive attempt partially to
privatize commercial operations of future World Cup tournaments. As well as disapproving of the concept, there
were dark (and unsubstantiated) rumors of Trump-related companies standing to
profit from the transaction and Mr Infantino likely becoming the CEO of the new
entity with an annual salary in excess of US$50 million. With that scheme scuppered, Mr Infantino’s
attention shifted to regaining the numbers he’d require in March 2027 win re-election
as FIFA president, his skills in such matters well-honed. The scheme may have been in the minds of members
of the FIFA Council as they pondered the prize’s future, some reported as questioning
its merit and demanding either changes to the rules (including excluding politicians
from eligibility) or scrapping the thing.
Being FIFA, the matter was referred to the organization’s 22-member FSRC
(Football Social Responsibility Committee) with a recommendation expected to be
handed down prior to the council’s next meeting in Doha, Qatar, on 16 December,
2026. If the FIFA Peace Prize is
scrapped it’d be unusual in becoming a “one off” but such things are not
unique.
Adolf
Hitler awarding the Fritz Todt Ring (Dr. Todt Ring) to Reich Minister for
Armaments and War Production Albert Speer on May 13, 1943, with the formal
presentation taking place on June 2, 1943, at the Wolf's Lair
(Führerhauptquartier Wolfsschanze).
Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and
German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) presented Albert
Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments
and war production 1942-1945) with the “Fritz Todt Ring” in appreciation of
Speer’s technological, organizational and administrative feats in scaling up
German armaments production. Speer had
been appointed minister after Dr Fritz Todt’s 1891–1942; Reich Minister for
Armaments and Ammunition 1940-1942) still unexplained death in a aircraft crash
and the sharp rise in armaments production after the change is an important part
of debates about the “Speer Myth”, one faction arguing Speer merely took advantage
of the reforms already initiated by his predecessor while others cite the
enhanced authority Speer insisted on being granted and his dynamic incursion
into parts of the military & industrial apparatus always closed to Todt. Whatever the truth, the “Fritz Todt Ring”
remained unique with no further recipients named but it’s not true a “ring” was
chosen as the form because Speer used “rings” as a motif in his administrative restructure
of German industry, the choice a coincidence and the regime
later established the regular Dr Fritz Todt Prize (in grades of Gold, Silver,
and Steel) to mark outstanding contributions to the production process by
technicians & engineers. Also unique
in the Third Reich was the award of Knight's Cross with Golden Oak Leaves,
Swords & Diamonds. Intended as an
order with twelve living members (the most distinguished combat veterans), events
overtook things and by the time World War II (1939-1945) ended, only one had
been presented, making it among the rarest military decorations. The recipient was Luftwaffe (air force) pilot
Hans-Ulrich Rudel (1916–1982) who, until his death, remained an unrepentant and
most active Nazi.
