Hansard

Hansard (pronounced han-sard)

(1) The official verbatim published reports of the debates and proceedings in the British Parliament.  Separate editions are published for both the House of Commons and House of Lords.

(2) A similar report kept by other legislative bodies in other countries, most of which trace their political systems back to colonial origins in the British Empire.

1812: Named after Thomas Curson Hansard, a London printer and publisher, who became the first official printer to the parliament at Westminster.

Prior to 1771, the British parliament was a secretive body, there existed a published official record of action but no record of debate, the publication of anything said on the floor of either house actually a breach of Parliamentary privilege and punishable by a court.  However, as independent newspapers became more numerous, many began publishing unofficial accounts.  Parliament responded with fines, dismissal and imprisonment.  Some editors used the device of styling their reports of debates as those of fictitious societies but parliament continued to resist until 1771 when several judges declined to hear the cases and a number of more far-sighted politicians began to understand how this free publicity could be turned to advantage.  By then, it was not uncommon for speeches to be crafted for the effect they would have when printed, rather than a pieces of oratory intended to impress the house.  The early newspapers, the editors of some which encouraged (and sometimes printed, even if edited) “letter to the editor”, were the slow-motion social medial of the age.

The green and red covers used by the UK Hansards reflect the shades of the leather upholstery in each house.

Eventually, editions of the parliamentary debates were produced by printer Thomas Curson Hansard (1776-1833), issued under his name from 1812.  These were periodicals which circulated by subscription and, in another modern touch, Hansard didn’t employ stenographers to take down notes, instead using a multiplicity of sources most of which were the morning newspapers.  Hansard was thus the Google news feed of the day, an aggregator with the revenue model of on-selling the work of others with no payment to the source.  Google has of late been compelled to offer its sources a few crumbs; Hansard never did.  The early editions of Hansard cannot absolutely be relied upon as a verbatim record of what was said.

In 1909, the parliament established its own staff of official Hansard reporters, a separate office under the auspices of the speaker (Commons) and Lord Chancellor (Lords).  Hansards of today can be thought a comprehensive account of every speech (although one wonders about those of some legislatures with no great tradition of transparency) but the reports are not strictly verbatim but substantially so with repetitions, redundancies (and the odd vulgarity) omitted.  Obvious mistakes (including grammatical errors) are corrected, but nothing can be added or omitted which adds to or detracts from the meaning.  There is some latitude in this: A former Australian prime-minister, the Country Party’s Sir Earle Page (1880-1961; prime minister of Australia 1939) was notorious for quoting whatever figures came into his head, then later providing the correct numbers for inclusion in the official Hansard.

Not all interjections make it into Hansard but the unrecorded homophonous gem of an exchange in the Australian parliament between Sir Winton Turnbull (1899-1980) and Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; prime minister 1972-1975) deserved to:

Sir Winton Turnbull (Country Party, Mallee): "I’m a country member and…"

Mr Gough Whitlam (ALP, Werriwa): "I remember."

List of assemblies which publish Hansards.

Parliament of the United Kingdom and the UK's devolved institutions, Parliament of Canada and the Canadian provincial and territorial legislatures, Parliament of Australia and the Australian state and territory parliaments, Parliament of South Africa and South Africa's provincial legislatures, Parliament of Barbados, East African Legislative Assembly, Parliament of New Zealand, Legislative Council of Hong Kong, Parliament of Malaysia, National Parliament of Papua New Guinea, Parliament of Singapore, Legislative Council of Brunei, Parliament of Sri Lanka, Parliament of Trinidad and Tobago, National Assembly of Kenya, National Assembly of Tanzania, Parliament of Ghana, Parliament of Uganda, Parliament of Mauritius, Parliament of Jamaica, States of Jersey, States of Guernsey, Tynwald, the Parliament of the Isle of Man, National Assembly of Nigeria, National Assembly of Namibia, Parliament of Botswana, Parliament of Zimbabwe.

Lindsay Lohan and Harsard

Lindsay Lohan and the great "slagging off Kettering scandal".

Because her "lifestyle choices" in the early twenty-first century made her name a synecdoche for this and that, Lindsay Lohan has been mentioned in parliamentary proceedings in a number of jurisdictions.  The best known came as one of the few amusing footnotes to the depressing business which was the Brexit referendum, the mechanism through which the UK withdrew from its membership of the European Union (EU), Ms Lohan helpfully keeping the world informed of the vote's progress via tweets on X (the known as Twitter).  One tweet mentioned Kettering and the previously obscure Philip Hollobone (b 1964; Tory MP for Kettering since 2005), knew honor demanded he respond to the actor “slagging off” his constituency.  The offending tweet caught the eye of the outraged MP on that evening in in 2016, after it was announced Kettering (in the Midlands county of Northamptonshire) had voted 61-39% to leave the EU; it read: “Sorry, but Kettering where are you?”

Philip Hollobone MP, official portrait (2020).

Mr Hollobone, a long-time "leaver" (a supporter of Brexit), wasn’t about to let a mean girl "remainer's" (one who opposed Brexit) slag of Kettering escape consequences and he took his opportunity in the House of Commons, saying: “On referendum night a week ago, the pro-Remain American actress, Lindsay Lohan, in a series of bizarre tweets, slagged off areas of this country that voted to leave the European Union.  At one point she directed a fierce and offensive tweet at Kettering, claiming that she had never heard of it and implying that no one knew where it was.  Apart from the fact that it might be the most average town in the country, everyone knows where Kettering is.”  Whether a phrase like “London, Paris, New York, Kettering” was at the time quite as familiar to most as it must have been to Mr Hollobone isn’t clear but he did try to help by offering advice, inviting Miss Lohan to switch on Kettering's Christmas lights that year, saying it would “redeem her political reputation”.  Unfortunately, that proved not possible because of a clash of appointments but thanks to the Tory Party, at least all know the bar has been lowered: Asking where a town sits on the map is now “slagging it off”.  Learning that is an example of why we should all "read our daily Hansards", an observation Mr Whitlam apparently once made, suggesting his estimation of the reading habits of the general population might have differed from reality.

Screen grab from the "apology video" Lindsay Lohan sent the residents of Kettering advising she'd not be able to switch on their Christmas lights because of her "busy schedule".

Floccinaucinihilipilification

Floccinaucinihilipilification (pronounced flok-suh-naw-suh-nahy-hil-uh-pil-uh-fi-key-shuhn)

(1) The estimation of something as valueless.

(2) The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant, of having no value or being worthless.

1735–1745: Apparently a coinage by pupils of Latin at England’s Eton College (a public (ie private) school), the intent jocular but also something of an exercise in the pleonastic and tautological, the construct built (with the odd phonetic substitution or insertion) from the Latin words floccus (a wisp) + naucum (a trifle) +‎ nihilum (nothing) +‎ pilus (a hair) + -fication.  The elements (floccī + naucī + nihilī + pilī) all conveyed the notion “of little or no value, trifling”.  The -fication suffix was an alternative form of -ification, from the Middle English -ificacioun (ending on words generally borrowed whole from Old French), from the Old French -ification, from the Latin -ficātiō, a noun ending which appears on action nouns formed using the suffix -tiō (the English -tion) from verbs ending in -ficō (English -ify).   It was used to convey the idea of “the process of becoming” and was used in words of French or Latin origin, but in the last half-century the forms have become highly productive in English and the choice between -fication & -ification tends to be dictated by the resultant ease of pronunciation although when applying the suffix -ation to a verb ending in -ify, -ification is used instead of the expected -ifiation.  Modern forms like nerdification (the process of making or becoming nerdy) and hipsterfication (the process of making or becoming a hipster or characteristic of hipsters) have proliferated.  Floccinaucinihilipilification is a noun, floccinaucinihilipilificatious is an adjective and floccinaucinihilipilificate, floccinaucinihilipilificated & floccinaucinihilipilificating are verbs; the noun plural is floccinaucinihilipilifications (which some deny exists).

Modern reprint of the Eton Latin Grammar (1887) by Arthur Campbell Ainger (1841-1919).

Bored or baffled pupils in Latin class presumably coined many fake Latin words and it’s the longest, funniest or most vulgar which tended to survive.  At a hefty (by the conventions of English and most languages) 29 letters, floccinaucinihilipilification certainly is long and also enjoys the distinction of being the longest “non-technical” (ie not from medicine, physics etc) word in English although as something used to convey meaning (the very purpose of language), knowing the word does in itself seem floccinaucinihilipilificatious and for those who want more, that adjectival back-formation is lengthier still at a 30 character count.  Both trump that other schoolboy favorite antidisestablishmentarianism (opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established (state) church) which manages with 28 and attempts to claim the noun antidisestablishmentarianismist (31) exists have always been dismissed.  Etymologists believe the inventive pupils were inspired by a line which appears in various editions of William Lily's (circa 1468–1522) Latin grammars, one of which was the Eton Latin Grammar in which was listed a number of nouns commonly used in the genitive case with some verbs like pendo and facio expressing the idea of evaluating something as worthless.

Floccinaucinihilipilification: Trends of use.

To say the word is rare is stating the obvious but statistically, use spiked after the spread of the internet and that’s because of all the lists of long, bizarre or obscure words, Google’s ngrams increasing the count every time another one was created or shared.  Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

Despite appearing on all those lists, by the twenty-first century, actual (ie “real”) use had been so infrequent that to call it “archaic” was misleading but indisputably it was old and that had much appeal for Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg (b 1969) an English politician who between 2010-2024 sat in the House of Commons, rising to become Lord President of the Council and later a member of cabinet in the memorable administration of Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).  As one who deliberately affects an archaic style, Sir Jacob’s amused colleagues soon dubbed him “the honourable member for the eighteenth century” and he made plain his disdain for much of what modernity has delivered (the EU (European Union), the Labour Party, working class people with ideas above their station, pop music etc) and in gratitude for his stellar service, Sir Jacob was created a Knight Bachelor in Mr Johnson’s resignation honours list (which was as entertaining as any in living memory).  Because the Knight Bachelor is the most ancient of the UK’s many classes of knighthood, that would have pleased him but it’s also low in the pecking order (the “order of precedence” which dictates critical things like where one gets to sit (and, more to the point, next to whom) at certain dinners, church services and such) so that would not.  It ranks below all the knighthoods which are part of the organized orders of chivalry (the Garter, the Thistle, the Bath, the Star of India etc) and unlike the chivalric orders, does not confer any entitlement to the use of post-nominal letters, the form “KB” not used (except in historic reference) after 1815 when knighthoods in the order of the Bath (1725) were reorganized as Knight Grand Cross (GCB) & Knight Commander (KCB).  Still, he picked up the right to be styled “the honorable” when his father (William Rees-Mogg, 1928-2012) was in 1988 created a life peer and when in 2019 he was appointed to the Privy Council, he gained for life the style “The Right Honourable” so there was that.

The Right Honourable Sir Jacob Rees Mogg PC, attending the funeral of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), London, 19 September 2019.

In 2012, Sir Jacob spoke the word “floccinaucinihilipilification” in a debate in the House of Commons, his topic being what he asserted was in the nation a common opinion of the EU and, helpfully, told the house it meant “the habit of regarding something as worthless”.  The 29 letter monster remains the longest word ever to appear in Hansard (a record of parliamentary proceedings) although someone did manage to use pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a factitious 45 letter creation said to mean “a lung disease caused by inhalation of very fine silica dust usually found in volcanos”) when appearing before a select committee (not being on the floor of the house it didn’t make the Hansard).  An opportunist extension of the medical term pneumonoconiosis, it was coined during the proceedings of the National Puzzlers' League convention in 1935 in an attempt to create English’s longest word but was dismissed by dictionaries as fake, clinicians and textbooks still referring to the disease as pneumonoconiosis, pneumoconiosis, or silicosis.  British dictionaries may feel compelled to include antidisestablishmentarianism but many overseas publications do not, on the basis there’s hardly any record of its use except in lists of long words which some editors treat as lexicographical freak shows.  Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary lists the longest as electroencephalographically, also from the physician’s diagnostic tool box.

Skank

Skank (pronounced skangk)

(1) In the slang of certain classes, rhythmically to dance in a loose-limbed manner.

(2) In the pejorative slang of certain classes, a woman thought unattractive and disreputable, especially one with an air of tawdry promiscuity.

(3) Any substance that is particularly foul, unhygienic or unpleasant (obsolete).

(4) A slovenly style of dress, possibly imitative of dishevelled heroin addicts (obsolete).

(5) To steal from; to swindle (obsolete).

1965: Origin uncertain though much speculation.  The sense of an "unattractive woman" and usually one of loose virtue first noted in 1965, thought most probably descended from the 1920s skag in this sense, possibly by means of an imperfect echoic.  The verbal meaning "dance to reggae music" is from 1976 and almost certainly not the same word.  Etymologists suggest it’s most likely a compound construct of some kind, either a blend of skeevy (unattractive) + rank (dirty, smelly) or, more improbably, scold +‎ brank (Middle English meaning frolicsome and often lascivious conduct).  All agree that despite the similarities, the Danish skank (cognate with English shank) used as a noun in Swedish since 1635, is unrelated, a noun is based on the older, now obsolete adjectives skank and skink (limping, lame on one leg).  Skank is a noun & verb, skanker is a noun, skanked & skanking are verbs, skanky, skankier & skankiest are adjectives; the noun plural is skanks.  Despite the existence of the noun skanker and the frequent use of the form as a slur against women, there’s no evidence of skankee) and despite what seems an obvious need, there's no acceptance of the adjective skankish as a standard word.  For one pondering on a group of skanks, should one feel the need to rate them, the comparative is skankier and the superlative skankiest.  

One of Mark’s many moments

Mark Latham.

Australian politician Mark Latham (b 1961; leader of the Australian Federal Labor Party and Her Majesty's loyal opposition 2003-2005), once described Murdoch press legal commentator, The Australian’s Janet Albrechtsen (b 1966; by Barry Goldwater out of Ayn Rand) as a “shanky ho”.  Later he claimed he didn’t, at the time, know what it meant, blaming a woman for putting him up to it.  In his youth, it must have been a remarkably sheltered life; apparently the only soul to grow up in Sydney’s western suburbs without learning what ‘skanky ho’ means.  He should have got out more.

According to Latham, a woman who was an advisor to fellow Labor parliamentarian Carmen Lawrence (b 1948; Premier of Western Australia 1990-1993) challenged him to describe Albrechtsen as “a skanky-ho who must die.”  Ms Albrechtsen excites much hatred among women of the left; they think she's feminism’s equivalent of a class traitor.

Ms Janet Albrechtesen

Although claiming he had no idea what ‘skanky ho’ meant, he anyway took the bait, later admitting not being able to say no to a challenge was “…my problem.”   So, first chance he got, he went into parliament and “…described dirty Janet as a skanky ho who will die in a ditch to defend the Liberal Party” which wasn’t quite what was suggested but close enough to be in the spirit of the bet.  Perhaps fortunately, the speech into which the line was interpolated was in the debate about a financial sector legislation amendment bill so the handful of people listening (or pretending to) probably had no more idea than him what ‘skanky ho’ meant.

Actually, ‘skanky ho’ appears in the Hansard, the record of proceedings, only because, in a mistake Latham described as “…hopeless…” he said “shanky ho” and felt obliged to correct the record.  That made things worse because, as he admitted, it was “…maybe not a smart move, as it turns out this is the equivalent of calling someone a filthy piece of rugby hot-box.  Outrageous when you think about it…”  That wasn’t exactly a mea culpa but by Latham’s standards, it came close.  In probably Australia's most remarkable political transformation since former Labor prime-minister Billy Hughes (1862–1952; prime minister of Australia 1915-1923) washed up decades later as attorney-general in a conservative cabinet, Mr Latham now sits in the New South Wales (NSW) Legislative Council (the state's upper house), in 2019 winning a seat for Pauline Hanson's One Nation and gaining re-election in 2023.  One Nation is a difficult political party to describe in the usual language of political science but most seem to settle on "right-wing populist" although much of its (somewhat fluid) philosophy seems often remote from both traditional conservatism and neo-liberalism.  It's probably best understood as the brand and personal platform of Pauline Hanson (b 1954), its identity (and likely its future) as tied to her as the now defunct Kadima was to old Ariel Sharon (1928–2014; prime minister of Israel 2001-2006).

Skullduggery

Skullduggery (pronounced skuhl-duhg-uh-ree)

(1) Dishonorable proceedings; mean dishonesty or trickery.

(2) An instance of dishonest or deceitful behavior; trickery.

(3) Underhand dealing.

(4) As sculdudrie or sculduddery, illicit fornication or something obscene respectively (archaic Scots dialectial forms).

1856: A creation in US English, it was a variant of earlier Scots sculdudrie or sculduddery (both of obscure origin) which had been in use in colonial America.  In Scotland, sculdudrie originally meant “adultery” or “illicit fornication” and, with the unexplained spelling variation sculduddery, by 1821 the meaning had extended to a general sense of “bawdry, an obscenity".  By from the late nineteenth century, as skullduggery, in most of the English-speaking world, it came to refer to dishonest or deceitful behaviour.  Skulduggery is a noun; the noun plural is skulduggeries or skullduggeries.

Skulduggery is general underhanded behaviour or trickery, usually secret or devious. The noun plural is skulduggeries or skullduggeries, though both are rarely used in this form because the reference tends almost always to be to behaviour in a general sense to begin with.  Everybody except Tony Blair seems to understand the profession of politics is a venal business of lies and squalid skullduggery.  By the time of his valedictory address to the House of Commons, he’d managed to forget noble causes like New Labour’s “ethical foreign policy” which lasted only until it was explained to him that the UK’s armaments manufacturers realized great profits by selling weapons to regimes with appalling human rights records:   

"Some may belittle politics but we who are engaged in it know that it is where people stand tall.  Although I know that it has many harsh contentions, it is still the arena that sets the heart beating a little faster. If it is, on occasions, the place of low skullduggery, it is more often the place for the pursuit of noble causes. I wish everyone, friend or foe, well. That is that... the end."

Hansard: Tony Blair’s last official words as prime-minister.  Prime Minister's Questions, 27 June 2007.

In happier times, left to right: Tony Blair, Gordon Blair & Peter "Mandy" Mandelson (left) and the mean girls: Karen Smith (Amanda Seyfried, b 1985), Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert, b 1982) & Regina George (Rachel McAdams, b 1978) (right).

In the early 1990s, detesting the Tory government, the press were fawning in their admiration and dubbed the New Labour trio "the three musketeers" but they came also to be called: "the good, the bad and the ugly, a collective moniker which may be generous to at least one of them.  There is no truth in the rumor the threesome provided the template for the personalities of the "plastics" in Mean Girls (2004, right) although the idea is tempting because both photographs can be deconstructed thus: Tony & Karen (sincere, well meaning, a bit naïve); Gordon & Gretchen (insecure, desperately wanting to be liked) and Mandy & Regina (evil and manipulative).

There was plenty of low skulduggery during the New Labour government, led first by Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007) and later by Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010) but to get a good flavour of it it’s necessary to read the memoirs by them both, then the diaries of Alastair Campbell (b 1957; Labour Party apparatchik) and finally Mandy's (b 1953; sometime (between the odd difficulty) member of the New Labour governments) The Third Man.  The books are best read in that order because it makes easiest the reading between the lines to work out why each included certain things and left out other stuff (or spun it in some strange and inevitably self-serving way).  It’s quite a fun process and actually necessary because while Campbell’s diaries are lively, the other three would otherwise be a hard slog.  It’s now sometimes forgotten that in the distant past of the post-Thatcher, early 1990s, Tony Blair, Gordon Brown and Mandy were seen as modernizing reformers and in the early years of government actually behaved in a way which suggested that was true.  It didn’t last however and Brown soon became consumed with jealously and eventually hatred for Blair who was denying him the premiership to which he thought himself entitled.  Mandy meanwhile became resentful at being twice dismissed from office by Blair on grounds he thought unreasonable.  From this ensued what was pretty dirty business.

A practical manual of low skulduggery in four volumes:

Tony Blair, A Journey (2010), Random House, pp 624, ISBN 978-0-09-192555-0

Gordon Brown, My Life, Our Times (2017), The Bodley Head, pp 512, ISBN 978-2-78-739526-6

Alastair Campbell, The Blair Years (2007), Random House, pp 816, ISBN 0-09-179629-6

Peter Mandelson, The Third Man (2010), Harper Press, pp 584, ISBN 978-0-00-739528-6

Quean

Quean (pronounced kween)

(1) An overly forward, boisterous, impudent or disreputable woman (archaic).

(2) A (usually) female prostitute (archaic).

(3) A girl or young woman, especially a robust one (archaic British dialectal slang).

(4) A young unmarried woman or girl; daughter (Scots English, quine the alternative spelling).

(5) A useless old woman (a one-off, ex post facto, Australian invention).

(6) In 1930s Australian slang (1) an effeminate man, (2) a suspected or confessed homosexual.

Pre 1000:  From the Middle English quene (a woman; a low-born woman) from the Old English cwēn & cwene (woman (also female serf, hussy, prostitute (as in portcwene "public woman"))), from the Proto-Germanic kwenon (source also of the Old Saxon quan, the Old High German quena, the Old Norse kona, the Gothic qino (wife, woman), the Greek gunē and the Middle Dutch kone & quene (vain or worthless woman).  The ultimate root was the Germanic kwenōn from the Proto-Germanic kwenǭ (woman) from the primitive Indo-European gwḗn (woman) and was related also to the Dutch kween (a barren woman; a barren cow), the Low German quene (barren cow; heifer), the German kon (wife), the Swedish kvinna (woman), the Icelandic kona (woman) and the Gothic qinō (woman) & qēns (wife).

The word had a strange history in the British Isles and the similarity to the homophonic "queen" must have accounted for at least some of the tangle.  Some etymologists the form was used in deliberate opposition to "queen" in the sense of "woman considered without regard to qualities or position" thus the frequent use as a slighting or abusive term for a woman and in the Middle English it could mean "a harlot; an old woman or crone" and by the sixteenth & seventeenth centuries it was in popular use to mean "a hussy; a woman of loose virtue".  North of the border however, things could be different and in the late fifteenth century, in Scotland it carried the sense of a "young, robust woman".  Quean is a noun and queanish an adjective; the noun plural is queans but all are now thought obsolete except for historic purposes.

Queen and quean

Sir William & Lady McMahon.

Rumors about the proclivities of Sir William McMahon (1908-1988; Australian prime minister 1971-1972), floated around within the Canberra beltway almost from the time he was first elected to parliament in 1949.  Usually the gossip was conducted in quiet, knowing sniggers but one day, on the floor of the house, Gough Whitlam (1916-2014; Australian prime minister 1972-1975), in one of his moods, called McMahon “a queen” which on reflection, he decided might have over-stepped the mark and told the Hansard office to edit the official record, saying he actually meant “quean” which he assured them meant “a useless old women”.  During the past thousand years it had never meant that and in the 1930s it had been recorded in Australian slang as a gay slur but the press were still forgiving of Whitlam, the view being it was a rhetorical flourish like Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) once calling British politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) a krampfhenne (a Bavarian dialectical word meaning “nervous old hen”).

Sir Robert Menzies (1894-1978; Australian prime minister 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) himself advised McMahon if he ever wished to become Prime Minister, he would need a wife and children so, upon hearing of Menzies’ plans to retire, he made contact with a young lady he’d earlier met.  He was then fifty-seven, she twenty-four years younger and they became engaged within six months, the marriage eventually producing four children.  Unfortunately, Menzies’ most ill-fated electoral strategy worked and McMahon became prime-minister in 1970.  The governor-general (Sir Paul Hasluck (1905–1993; Governor-General of Australia 1969-1974) who would later appoint him to the prime-ministership, in March 1968 confessed to:

“…a dislike of McMahon, the longer one is associated with him the deeper the contempt for him grows and I find it hard to allow him any merit.  Disloyal, devious, dishonest, untrustworthy, petty, cowardly - all these adjectives have been weighed by me and I could not in truth modify or reduce any one of them in its application to McMahon.  I find him a contemptible creature and this contempt and the adjectives I have chosen to apply to him sum up defects that, in my estimation of other people, cannot be balanced by better qualities."

Sir Paul Hasluck (left) and William McMahon (right) at the swearing-in of the McMahon ministry, Government House, Canberra, 22 March 1971.

Sir Paul did allow that McMahon was renowned for "industry and pertinacity in a cause" but added to his diary a note that it was "...the industry and persistence of a man applying himself often to a mean purpose."  Anxious perhaps that it not appear his opinion was formed from mere prejudice, he recorded that long ago "...the unkindest thought I had of him was to think him something of an oddity and a rather funny little man.  There was a time when I might have sought to find good points for he is a pathetic figure, obviously an incomplete and sorry little person, small in stature, ill-developed, extremely sensitive about his lack of manly qualities and sometimes ingenuous in his bid for liking.  But his vanity and deviousness in self-advancement go beyond a point where one can continue to excuse them or make allowances for them out of sympathy.  I do not respect him and do not trust him."  So even if Sir Paul was at pains to point out he didn't take an instant dislike to Sir William, it seems might have saved time and warming to the topic, he recalled in 1951 hearing McMahon who, although already for over a year a member of parliament, was still acting as a uniformed attendant at functions for the Lord Mayor of Sydney, assisting his aunt by handing out tea and cakes to the ladies in attendance.  Sir Paul must have taken particular delight in adding "He would be the only man among all the ladies and seemed to love it.  He never seemed to be in the company of men but was mincing and simpering like a little girl."  None of these character traits of course disqualify anyone from high political office although they may have contributed to McMahon being reckoned still perhaps Australia’s worst prime-minister although that may be unfair to some of his twenty-first century successors.

Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), escorting Sonia McMahon (1932-2010) to a state dinner, the White House, 1971; husband William bringing up the rear.

There was one highlight during McMahon’s brief, mediocre tenure in the Lodge.  On a state visit to the United States in 1971, his wife wore to dinner a white dress, slit both sides to the armpits and held together from the waist up by rhinestones less than an inch (25 mm) apart.  A garment of extraordinarily daring by the standards of the diplomatic corps, the dress made headlines world-wide and was the subject of more analysis than was ever extended to McMahon.  His wife always dismissed speculation about her husband being a bit gay, claiming the rumors were started by Gough Whitlam after McMahon wore suede shoes into parliament.

Lindsay Lohan in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (2004) (left) and Patrick Mullins' revelations of a middle-aged drama quean, his biography of Sir William McMahon (Tiberius With A Telephone (2020) Scribe, 784 pp, ISBN: 9781922310637 (right)).

The jibe "Tiberius With A Telephone" came also from Whitlam, an allusion to McMahon's reputation for intrigue and an example of his fondness for flaunting his classical learning and flair for conjuring alliterative phrases.  Remarkably, given that for half a century McMahon's brief premiership has been dismissed as insignificant, incipit and inept, Mullins' biography of this previously neglected administration is a revelation and a classic work of political history, an absorbing tale of the middle-years of the twentieth century.

Slag

Slag (pronounced slag)

(1) The substantially fused and vitrified matter separated during the reduction of a metal from its ore; also called cinder.

(2) The scoria (the mass of rough fragments of pyroclastic rock and cinders produced during a volcanic eruption) from a volcano.

(3) In the post-production classification of coal for purposes of sale, the left-over waste for the sorting process; used also of the waste material (as opposed to by-product) from any extractive mining.

(4) In industrial processing, to convert into slag; to reduce to slag.

(5) In the production of steel and other metals, the scum that forms on the surface of molten metal.

(6) In commercial metallurgy, to remove slag from a steel bath.

(7) To form slag; become a slaglike mass.

(8) In slang, an abusive woman (historic UK slang, now a rare use).

(9) In slang, a term of contempt used usually by men of women with a varied history but now to some degree synonymous with “unattractive slut” (of UK origin but now in use throughout the English-speaking world and used sometimes also of prostitutes as a direct synonym, the latter now less common).

(10) In the slang of UK & Ireland, a coward (now regionally limited) or a contemptible person (synonymous with the modern “scumbag” (that use still listed by many as “mostly Cockney” but now apparently rare).

(11) In Australian slang, to spit.

(12) Verbally to attack or disparage somebody or something (usually as “slag off”, “slagged them”, “slagged it off” etc); not gender-specific and used usually in some unfriendly or harshly critical manner; to malign or denigrate.  Slang dictionaries note that exclusively in Ireland, “slagging off” someone (or something) can be used in the sense of “to make fun of; to take the piss; the tease, ridicule or mock” and can thius be an affectionate form, rather in the way “bastard” was re-purposed in Australian & New Zealand slang.

1545–1555: From the Middle Low German slagge & slaggen (slag, dross; refuse matter from smelting (which endures in Modern German as Schlacke)), from the Old Saxon slaggo, from the Proto-West Germanic slaggō, from the Proto-Germanic slaggô, the construct being slag(ōną)- (to strike) + -gô (the diminutive suffix).  Although unattested, there may have been some link with the Old High German slahan (to strike, slay) and the Middle Low German slāgen (to strike; to slay), the connection being that the first slag from the working of metal were the splinters struck off from the metal by being hammered.  Slāgen was from Proto-West Germanic slagōn and the Old Saxon slegi was from the Proto-West Germanic slagi.  Slag is a noun & verb, slagability, deslag, unslag & slaglessness are nouns, slagish, slagless, slagable, deslagged unslagged, slaggy & slaglike are adjectives and slagged, deslagged, unslagged, slagging, deslagging & unslagging are verbs; the noun plural is slags.  As an indication of how industry use influences the creation of forms, although something which could be described as “reslagging” is a common, it’s regarded as a mere repetition and a consequence rather than a process.

In the UK & Ireland, the term “slag tag” is an alternative to “tramp stamp”, the tattoo which appears on the lower back.  Both rhyming forms seem similarly evocative.

The derogatory slang use dates from the late eighteenth century and was originally an argot word for “a worthless person or a thug”, something thought derived from the notion of slag being “a worthless, unsightly pile” and from this developed the late twentieth century use to refer to women and this is thought to have begun life as a something close to a euphemism for “slut” although it was more an emphasis on “unattractiveness”.  The most recent adaptation is that of “slagging off” (verbal (ie oral, in print, on film etc) denigration of someone or something, use documented since 1971 although at least one oral history traces it from the previous decade.  In vulgar slang, slag is one of the many words used (mostly) by men to disparage women.  It’s now treated as something akin to “slut” (in the sense of a “women who appears or is known to be of loose virtue) but usually with the added layer of “unattractiveness”.  The lexicon of the disparaging terms men have for women probably doesn’t need to precisely to be deconstructed and as an example, in the commonly heard “old slag”, the “old” likely operates often as an intensifier rather than an indication of age; many of those labeled “old slags” are doubtless quite young on the human scale.  Still, that there are “slags” and “old slags” does suggest men put some effort into product differentiation.

How slag heaps are created.

All uses of “slag”, figurative & literal, can be traced back to the vitreous mass left as a residue by the smelting of metallic ore, the fused material formed by combining the flux with gangue, impurities in the metal, etc.  Although there’s much variation at the margins, typically, it consists of a mixture of silicates with calcium, phosphorus, sulfur etc; in the industry it’s known also as cinder and casually as dross or recrement (the once also-used "scoria" seems now exclusively the property of volcanologists).  When deposited in place, the piles of slag are known as “slag heaps” and for more than a century, slag heaps were a common site in industrial regions and while they still exist, usually they’re now better managed (disguised).  A waste-product of steel production, slag can be re-purposed or recycled and, containing a mixture of metal oxides & silicon dioxide among other compounds, there is an inherent value which can be realized if the appropriate application can be found.  There are few technical problems confronting the re-use of slag but economics often prevent this; being bulky and heavy, slag can be expensive to transport so if a site suitable for re-use is distant, it can simply be too expensive to proceed.  Additionally, although slag can in close to its raw form be used for purposes such as road-base, if any reprocessing is required, the costs can be prohibitive.  The most common uses for slag include (1) Landfill reclamation, especially when reclaiming landfills or abandoned industrial sites, the dense material ideal for affording support & stability for new constructions, (2) the building of levees or other protective embankments where a large cubic mass is required, (3) in cement production in which ground granulated blast furnace slag (GGBFS) can be used as a supplementary component material of cement, enhancing the workability, durability and strength of concrete, (4) manufacturing including certain ceramics & glass, especially where high degrees of purity are not demanded, (5) as a soil conditioner in agriculture to add essential nutrients to the soil and improve its structure, (6) as a base for road-building and (7) as an aggregate in construction materials such as concrete and asphalt.  The attraction of recycling slag has the obvious value in that it reduces the environmental impact of steel production but it also conserves natural resources and reduces the impact of the mining which would otherwise be required.  However, the feasibility of recycling slag depends on its chemical composition and the availability of an appropriate site.

Harold Macmillan, Epsom Derby, Epsom Downs Racecourse, Surrey, 5 June 1957.

The word “slag” has been heard in the UK’s House of Commons in two of the three senses in which it’s usually deployed.  It may have been used also in the third but the Hansard reporters are unlikely to have committed that to history.  In 1872, Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881, UK prime-minister Feb-Dec 1868 & 1874-1880) cast his disapproving opposition leader’s gaze on the cabinet of William Gladstone (1809–1898; prime-minister 1868–1874, 1880–1885, Feb-July 1886 & 1892–1894) sitting on the opposite front bench and remarked: “Behold, a range of extinct volcanoes; not a flame flickers upon a single pallid crest.”.  Sixty-odd years later, a truculent young Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) picked up the theme in his critique of a ministry although he was slagging off fellow Tories, describing the entire government bench as “a row of disused slag heaps”, adding that the party of Disraeli was now “dominated by second-class brewers and company promoters.”  Presumably Macmillan thought to be described as a “slag heap” was something worse than “extinct volcano” and one can see his point.  The rebelliousness clearly was a family trait because in 1961, when Macmillan was prime-minister, his own son, by then also a Tory MP, delivered a waspish attack on his father’s ministry.  When asked in the house the next day if there was “a rift in the family or something”, Macmillan said: “No.”, pausing before adding with his Edwardian timing: “As the House observed yesterday, the Honorable Member for Halifax has both intelligence and independence.  How he got them is not for me to say."

Lindsay Lohan and the great "slagging off Kettering scandal".

Although lacking the poise of Macmillan, Philip Hollobone (b 1964; Tory MP for Kettering since 2005), knew honor demanded he respond to Lindsay Lohan “slagging off” his constituency.  What caught the eye of the outraged MP happened during Lindsay Lohan’s helpful commentary on Twitter (now known as X) on the night of the Brexit referendum in 2016, the offending tweet appearing after it was announced Kettering (in the Midlands county of Northamptonshire) had voted 61-39% to leave the EU: “Sorry, but Kettering where are you?”

Philip Hollobone MP, official portrait (2020).

Mr Hollobone, a long-time "leaver" (a supporter of Brexit), wasn’t about to let a mean girl "remainer's" (one who opposed Brexit) slag of Kettering escape consequences and he took his opportunity in the House of Commons, saying: “On referendum night a week ago, the pro-Remain American actress, Lindsay Lohan, in a series of bizarre tweets, slagged off areas of this country that voted to leave the European Union.  At one point she directed a fierce and offensive tweet at Kettering, claiming that she had never heard of it and implying that no one knew where it was.  Apart from the fact that it might be the most average town in the country, everyone knows where Kettering is.”  Whether a phrase like “London, Paris, New York, Kettering” was at the time quite as familiar to most as it must have been to Mr Hollobone isn’t clear but he did try to help by offering advice, inviting Miss Lohan to switch on Kettering's Christmas lights that year, saying it would “redeem her political reputation”.  Unfortunately, that proved not possible because of a clash of appointments but thanks to the Tory Party, at least all know the bar has been lowered: Asking where a town sits on the map is now “slagging it off”.  Learning that is an example of why we should all "read our daily Hansards", an observation Mr Whitlam apparently once made, suggesting his estimation of the reading habits of the general population might have differed from reality.

Screen grab from the "apology video" Lindsay Lohan sent the residents of Kettering advising she'd not be able to switch on their Christmas lights because of her "busy schedule".