2 MIN READ

Why Do We Say ‘All It’s Cracked Up To Be’?

Though complaining that something is not “all it’s cracked up to be” sounds egg-adjacent, the idiom has distinct nonfood origins.

by Julia Rittenberg
Close-up of a broken egg

My friends and I used to “give each other the chills,” a process that started by chanting “crack an egg on your head, let the yolk trickle down.” It was a middle school time-wasting activity, so the “chills” weren’t all they were cracked up to be. “All it’s cracked up to be” is a phrase that asks you to measure if something is as good as expected. And while it might bring to mind the act of cracking an egg, it has distinctly non-ovoid origins. 

People usually use the phrase in the negative. When something is not all it’s cracked up to be, it means it’s not as good as you expected it to be. You can use the phrase without the negative modifier as well. Asking if the new superhero movie is “all it’s cracked up to be” implies you expect it will be a disappointment. 

The idiom is a folksy way of speaking. An early example of it in print showed up in The Kentuckian in 1829: “He is not the thing he is cracked up for.” A few years later, in 1835, American frontiersman Davy Crockett similarly criticized Martin Van Buren in his writing: “Great men … are not the things they are cracked up for.” 

The key to the idiom is probably in the word “crack.” British slang speakers have employed “crack” as a positive descriptor since 1793. However, there isn’t a documented direct line from the slang to the idiom in the negative. 

As such, there’s no agreed-upon origination for “all it’s cracked up to be,” but the 19th-century print examples give us a good indication that it showed up in the American English lexicon in the early 1800s. 

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5 MIN READ

The Best Shakespearean Insults

Whether comparing someone unfavorably to a cheese or making an early “yo mama” joke, Shakespeare never shied away from getting creative with his jabs and insults.

by Tony Dunnell
Statue of William Shakespeare

The works of William Shakespeare provide the first recorded use of some 1,700 words in the English language. In some cases, these were preexisting words that Shakespeare was simply the first to write down, but many others were invented or introduced by the Bard himself. He also coined a wide range of expressions that we still use today, such as “in a pickle,” “with bated breath,” and “wild goose chase.” 

And then there were the insults. Shakespeare was a master of barbs and jabs, and he used insults to both comedic and dramatic effect. His works include a plethora of colorful invectives that could provoke mighty guffaws from commoners standing in the pit, as well as bashful titters from aristocrats in the private galleries. The insults that are darker in tone could replace actual violence — as Hamlet says as he prepares to face his mother, “I will speak daggers to her, but use none.” 

Here are some of Shakespeare’s finest insults, including a precursor to the  “yo mama” joke and some of the most creative and satisfying put-downs in the English language.

You starveling, you elfskin, you dried neat’s tongue, you bull’s pizzle, you stockfish!

This rapid-fire assault from Falstaff in Henry IV, Part 1 compares its target — who happens to be Prince Hal, the future Henry V — to various thin, dried, and unappetizing things, including the skin of an elf, a shriveled cow’s tongue, a bull’s penis, and dried cod. 

Away, you three-inch fool!

In Shakespeare’s comedy The Taming of the Shrew, Curtis uses this line to attack Grumio’s physical stature while also insulting his intelligence. Then there’s the secondary connotation of “three-inch,” calling into question the size of Grumio’s manhood. It’s a short insult, but it packs quite a punch. 

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Methinks thou art a general offence and every man should beat thee.

In Act 2 of All’s Well That Ends Well, the wise nobleman Lafeu confronts the tricky, deceitful Parolles. Lafeu doesn’t hold back, berating Parolles by declaring him so universally disliked that he deserves to be beaten by literally everyone. 

Villain, I have done thy mother.

Proving that Shakespeare could be crude at times, this straightforward precursor to the modern “yo mama” joke is perhaps one of his most direct and brutal insults. Spoken by the cunning villain Aaron in Titus Andronicus — often considered the Bard’s most violent work — its vulgarity underscores Aaron’s cruel nature. 

Away, you scullion, you rampallian, you fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe.

This colorful and — to modern audiences — largely impenetrable stream of insults is worth dissecting for its fantastic words. The diatribe, spoken by a page in a larger exchange with Falstaff in Henry IV, Part 2, begins with “scullion,” used in Shakespeare’s day to refer to any person of low rank. This is followed by “rampallian,” meaning “a wretch” or “a good-for-nothing scoundrel,” and then “fustilarian” (an alteration of the earlier and even more magical word “fustilugs”), used to refer to a ponderous, clumsy person. “I’ll tickle your catastrophe,” meanwhile, roughly translates to “I’ll smack you on your behind.” 

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I do desire we may be better strangers.

This is perhaps the most elegant insult in Shakespeare’s vast repertoire. Delivered by Orlando in As You Like It, it’s a graceful way of telling someone you’d rather never see them again. 

You Banbury cheese!

In The Merry Wives of Windsor, we encounter the character Slender, whose name comically refers to both his lack of wit and and his physical stature. (He is described as having “a little wee face, with a little yellow beard.”) In Act 1, Scene 1, Bardolph insults him by comparing him to a very specific type of cheese — an insult that made sense to contemporary audiences familiar with this particular dairy product. Banbury cheese was very thin, with little actual cheese after the rind was removed — it was therefore a clever and fitting way to mock both Slender’s name and his physical slightness. 

Thou cream-faced loon! 

One Shakespearean insult that deserves to be revived for the 21st century is “cream-faced loon.” Spoken by Macbeth, it’s a fairly simple jab meaning “pasty-faced idiot” — but it certainly rolls off the tongue. 

Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat.

As insults go, being called a “luxurious mountain goat” might not sound so bad. But in the insult Pistol launches at a French soldier in Henry V, “luxurious” doesn’t have today’s connotation of “opulent or sumptuous” — rather, in Shakespeare’s time, it meant something akin to being self-indulgent, louche, or hedonistic. The Bard likely used “mountain goat” due to the animal’s association with randy behavior, creating an insult that in today’s parlance would mean something like “you damned, lecherous goat.” 

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2 MIN READ

What Does It Mean To ‘Throw Down the Gauntlet’?

Today, anyone can throw down a metaphorical gauntlet in relative safety. But back in the Middle Ages, it was a far more literal — and dangerous — act.

by Tony Dunnell
Knight in shining armor close up

Today, when people use the expression “throw down the gauntlet,” it is very much in a metaphorical sense. After all, not many people walk around wearing gauntlets — armored gloves — these days. The idiom is used as a challenge or dare, to say that one is ready to confront, argue, or compete with someone. Normally, this doesn’t involve an actual physical fight. It’s more likely to appear in a sporting, political, or business context, such as, “The leader threw down the gauntlet to his opponents, daring them to challenge his decision.” 

Originally, however, an actual fight in the presence of gauntlets was far more likely. The origin of the phrase comes from medieval chivalric traditions — specifically, the settling of disputes between knights through trial by combat. To issue such a challenge, the instigating knight would dramatically remove his gauntlet and throw it onto the ground at his opponent’s feet. To accept the challenge, his opponent would pick up the armored glove — hence the other expression, “take up the gauntlet.” The challenged knight could decline by leaving the gauntlet on the ground, but this would carry great social shame and entirely unchivalrous implications of cowardice.

In the world of medieval chivalry, the throwing of the gauntlet represented more than mere aggression. It was a formal, honor-bound procedure. Challenges could arise from disputes over principles, romantic interests, land, or any perceived insults that demanded satisfaction through combat. A challenge could even be made against a claimant to a royal crown. When William the Conqueror seized the English throne in 1066, he asked his friend Robert Marmion to serve as his champion — a role that demanded he be ready to throw down the gauntlet at the feet of anyone openly challenging the new king’s legitimacy. 

The age of knights dueling and wearing heavy metal gauntlets eventually faded into history. But the expression remains, and “throwing down the gauntlet” retains, to some extent, its original sense of courage and directness — just without the imminent danger of having to engage in one-on-one combat with a fully armored and likely angry knight. 

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3 MIN READ

Did Colonial-Era Settlers Have an American Accent?

What did early American colonists actually sound like? Probably not like modern Americans — and parts of the current American accent may be closer to 17th-century British English.

by Tony Dunnell
British colonists with Native Americans

Colonial-era settlers did not speak with an American accent as we know it today. But they probably didn’t speak in a modern British accent either, at least not the Received Pronunciation — sometimes referred to as “the Queen’s English” or “BBC English” — spoken in London and southeastern England today.  

When British colonists — mainly English, at first — arrived in North America during the early 1600s, they brought with them the accents and dialects of their home regions. Many of these settlers came from cities such as London, Liverpool, and Bristol, with smaller numbers from Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, all bringing their distinct accents, pronunciation patterns, vocabulary, and speech rhythms. Therefore, there was nothing close to a unified “American” way of speaking.

But as these colonists settled together in the New World, a new way of speaking began to develop. A number of factors were in play. For one, there was the mixing of different English regional dialects, combined with isolation from England itself. Then there was contact with other settlers, who spoke Dutch, Swedish, French, and Spanish, as well as interaction with Indigenous peoples. It wasn’t long before a new English dialect began to emerge — in fact, it may have occurred within one generation. 

It can be argued that this marked the origins of what is now known as “American English.” But without actual recordings, which didn’t exist until centuries later, we’ll never be able to say exactly how the early American colonists spoke, or precisely when they first started to sound noticeably different from the British.

Interestingly, some linguists argue that certain aspects of what we consider the modern “American accent” actually preserve older forms of English pronunciation that have since changed in Britain. This has a lot to do with rhoticity, or the pronunciation of “r” in words like “card,” “door,” and “park.” Brits in the 1600s, like modern-day Americans, typically pronounced all their “r’s.” But with the rise of the largely non-rhotic Received Pronunciation (the “standard” British accent) in the 19th century, Brits began ditching the hard “r.” Because of this, there’s an argument to be made that modern Americans may sound more like the Brits of several centuries ago than the current Brits do — at least where the “r” is concerned. 

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3 MIN READ

What’s the Difference Between Language, Dialect, and Accent?

Is it an accent, a dialect, or a whole different language? The answer isn’t always obvious — and the differences might be smaller (or bigger) than you think.

by Tony Dunnell
Close-upn of letters coming out of a mans mouth

The distinctions between language, dialect, and accent aren’t always clear-cut. A technical definition can be applied to each one — with accent perhaps being the easiest to differentiate — but there is a certain amount of overlap among the three linguistic classifications. Human communication is, after all, an incredibly fluid and ever-evolving process. 

When we talk about accent, we are referring specifically to differences in pronunciation — how words sound when spoken aloud, or, as Merriam-Webster puts it, “an individual’s distinctive or characteristic inflection, tone, or choice of words.” We all speak with an accent (even if our accent is considered “neutral” for our particular language). Someone might speak the exact same language and use identical vocabulary and grammar as us, but they might still pronounce words differently — i.e., have an accent — based on their geographic origin or social background. In the United States, notable accents include those from New York City, Boston, and the South (which has its own variations, depending on the location). A person from Boston and someone from Alabama may both speak English, but their distinct accents sound different. In this case, the accent alone is unlikely to affect overall comprehension — but particularly strong accents can hinder a listener’s understanding, especially when combined with a difference in dialect. 

Accents can be understood as a subset of dialect. Dialects are more complicated than accents in that they encompass differences that include not only pronunciation but also vocabulary, grammar, and sentence structure. Dialects represent regional or social varieties of the same language, and due to their unique vocabulary and grammatical features, dialects can hinder understanding between speakers of the same language, especially if they are not accustomed to the differences. A good example is Scouse, the distinctive dialect (and accent) of Liverpool and the Merseyside region of the United Kingdom. People from the U.S. might struggle to understand Scouse, even though it’s a dialect of English. Even east Londoners who speak their own Cockney dialect of English can struggle with Scouse — and Liverpool is only 200 miles away from London. However, spending time immersed in the dialect will familiarize someone with the new way of speaking.

The broadest of the three linguistic categories is language. Language represents a complete communication system with its own vocabulary, grammar rules, and often writing system — it includes dialects and accents. The general test for whether two communication systems constitute separate languages is mutual intelligibility: If speakers cannot understand each other without specific learning of the grammar, vocabulary, and syntax by both parties, they’re speaking different languages rather than distinct dialects. But the precise boundaries of what constitutes a separate language  are not always easy to define, existing on a scale of difference rather than either side of a clear dividing line.

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4 MIN READ

11 English Words That Sound Completely Made Up

From Lewis Carroll to Rudyard Kipling and Shel Silverstein, some authors are renowned for their ability to create silly-sounding words out of thin air. In addition to the contributions of those brilliant writers, there are plenty of extant words in the English language that also sound completely made-up.

by Bennett Kleinman
man is leafing through a huge old dictionary

In his 1871 poem “Jabberwocky,” Lewis Carroll famously coined a variety of nonsensical words that essentially sound like gibberish. While Carroll brilliantly came up with those terms on his own, he could’ve simply consulted a dictionary to achieve the same effect. Open any English dictionary and you’ll find a laundry list of words that sound as if they were made up, even though they’re 100% legitimate. Let’s look at 11 of those examples.

Bumfuzzle

Don’t be confused — “bumfuzzle” is a real transitive verb meaning “perplex” or “fluster.” It can also be written as the adjective “bumfuzzled,” defined as being “in a state of bewilderment.” As noted by Merriam-Webster, the word’s earliest use can be traced to 1873, though its precise etymology is less clear. It may be an alteration of other English terms such as “befuddle” and “dumbfound.”

Snollygoster

The fantastical term “snollygoster” refers to “an unprincipled but shrewd person.” By the 1850s, it was popular among those in the American South, who used it to refer to politicians in a humorous manner. President Harry S. Truman used the word in a 1952 speech about his colleagues across the aisle, saying, “I wish some of these snollygosters would read the New Testament and perform accordingly.”

Friendlily

No, it’s not a misspelling of the word “friendly,” nor are we discussing your friend Lily. This singsongy term is the adverbial form of the word “friendly” and can be used to highlight how nicely a person is behaving. For instance, you can use it in reference to a kind act: “He pulled me aside and friendlily told me I had toilet paper on my shoe.”

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Pronk

Rabbits hop and horses gallop, but what do deer and gazelle do? They “pronk” — a term borrowed from the Afrikaans language, in which it means “to show off.” Pronking is when a deer, gazelle, or other quadruped jumps into the air with straight legs and an arched back.

Embiggen

From 1996 to 2018, the word “embiggen” was indeed completely made-up. It was coined by the writers of the TV show The Simpsons, appearing in a 1996 episode titled “Lisa the Iconoclast.” In 2018, Merriam-Webster officially added the word to the dictionary, with a definition meaning “to make bigger or more expansive.” Seemingly overnight, the term went from made-up to legitimate. 

Taradiddle

Merriam-Webster would be the first to tell you that the etymological origins of the word “taradiddle” are impossible to pin down. In fact, someone claiming to know its origins would be spouting a taradiddle, as this word is essentially a synonym for “fib.” It was coined no later than 1796, when it appeared in print in a book about colloquial speech.

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Wabbit

To many Americans, “wabbit” is what comes out of Elmer Fudd’s mouth when he sees Bugs Bunny. But to the Scottish, it’s a term meaning “weary” or “exhausted.” It’s derived from the earlier Scots term wobart, meaning “withered” or “feeble.”

Bumbershoot

While Mary Poppins may have flown using a “brolly” in her native England, umbrellas are rarely called that here in the U.S. Instead, Americans have been using a different whimsical slang term for umbrellas since the late 1800s: “bumbershoot.” According to Merriam-Webster, the bumber- prefix is likely an alternation of the umbr- prefix.

Crapulent

“Crapulent” might sound like a new curse word, but this odd term actually means “suffering from excessive eating or drinking.” It comes from the Latin crapula, meaning “intoxication.”

Fartlek

Fartlek” is a Swedish noun that refers to a period of endurance training in which the runner alternates between sprinting and jogging. The fart- portion is derived from the Middle Low German word vart, meaning “pace,” and -lek comes from the Old Norse leikr, which essentially translates to “game.”

Borborygmus

The term “borborygmus” dates back to the 1720s. Odds are, you’d have no reason to use it unless you’re a professional gastroenterologist, as it’s a medical term that refers to the rumbling in your stomach caused by moving gas. To most laymen, it’s essentially a synonym for an upset tummy.

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2 MIN READ

Why Are Soldiers Called GIs?

With monikers including “jarheads” and “doughboys,” American soldiers have developed a wide variety of nicknames. Many people also refer to them as “GIs,” and there are a few theories as to why.

by Bennett Kleinman
Soldiers Raising the US Flag

GI Joe is one of the most familiar characters in the world of Americana, but the initials “GI” are somewhat perplexing. What does “GI” mean, and why do we use it as a term for soldiers? Much like the fog of war, the answer isn’t clear, but there are some reputable theories as to its origin.

Despite an oft-repeated claim, “GI” doesn’t stand for “general infantry.” Language expert Hugh Rawson claims the initialism originally had to do with items made from galvanized iron that were in an army’s inventory (e.g., buckets, cans, pipes, etc.). In this context, the earliest known use of “GI” dates to 1906.

A few years later, during World War I, “GI” underwent an etymological evolution. Many took it to mean “general issue” or “government issue,” referring to the toiletries, clothes, and weapons issued to soldiers. According to WordOrigins.org, one theory for this change is the idea that soldiers may have seen “GI” (meaning “galvanized iron”) printed on certain items in the inventory, and assumed it meant “government issue.” They then applied the initialism to any military-supplied items, and the descriptor acquired its new meaning. 

The use of “GI” as slang for a soldier only goes back to 1935, arguably implying that the men were also part of a military production line. According to a 1946 article, “GI” was initially somewhat derogatory, suggesting “a man who was GI was crude or uncouth.” In time, “GI” shed that inherent derogatory connotation, becoming a more general slang term for soldiers.

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6 MIN READ

6 Foods With Misleading Names and the Real Stories Behind Them

These quirky food names may seem like misnomers at first glance, but their surprising histories reveal just how fitting they really are.

by Rachel Gresh
Freshly harvested organic eggplants held by a farmer in a field

Have you ever noticed that some words and names seem to promise one thing, only to surprise you with something entirely different? For example, consider the confusion of a non-native English speaker when learning that “eggplant” refers to an oblong, purple fruit. The same can be said about grapefruit, which belongs to the citrus family, or navy beans, which are white. Let’s explore the history behind the words to discover why these cleverly named foods aren’t a case of mistaken identity.

Chickpea

Where would modern cuisine and its global inspirations be without chickpeas? Cultivated for at least 10,000 years, this legume has long been a staple in Mediterranean diets — though it has nothing to do with chickens. The word “chickpea” ultimately derives from the Latin word for “pea,” cicer. This is also the origin of the renowned Roman statesman’s name: “Cicero” originated as a surname of someone who grew or sold legumes. 

Based on this etymology, the name of this legume translates to “pea peas” (similar to how the incorrect usage of “chai tea” translates to “tea tea”). The modern English word “chickpea” developed in the 18th century from the French pois chiche (the same food), which came from the Latin cicer. Over time, chiche was folk etymologized as “chick” in English, giving way to the current form. Another common name, “garbanzo bean,” is Spanish, deriving from the Basque phrase garau anztu, meaning “dry seed.”

Dragon Fruit

Dragon fruit, with its spiky skin and vibrant pink hue, looks like something from a fantasy novel. But it doesn’t come from dragons (obviously) — it grows on a vining cactus native to Central America. Its scientific name, Hylocereus undatus, refers to its appearance: hyle (Greek for “woody”), cereus (Latin for “waxen”), and the Latin undatus, referring to the wavy edges of its stems. The dragon fruit is also called “pitaya” in many countries around the world. 

Its English name, “dragon fruit,” has a mythical backstory. Cultivated in tropical areas around the world, dragon fruit is especially popular in Asia. In the early days of the fruit’s cultivation, merchants spun tales of fierce battles and fire-breathing dragons wherein the fruit would sprout from their final breath. The fruit was a symbol of triumph, presented to emperors as a gift of honor. The name likely stuck around because of the dragon fruit’s scaly appearance.

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Eggplant

A versatile staple in dishes such as ratatouille, eggplant parmesan, and baba ghanoush, this glossy purple fruit belongs to the nightshade family. But how did something purple come to be named after an egg? The English name dates back to the 18th century, when a different variety of the fruit — small, white, and oval-shaped — was commonly grown in Europe. These early cultivars looked just like hen’s eggs, and the name stuck.

In British English and some European languages, the purple fruit is called “aubergine,” derived from the Arabic word “al-badinjan,” meaning “the eggplant.” This term originates from ancient words for the fruit, including the Persian “badin-gan” and Sanskrit “vatigagama.” It’s unclear when American English speakers began calling the purple fruit “eggplant,” but seed catalogs in 1825 listed both white and purple versions with that name. At some point in the last 200 years, the white version dropped out of popularity, although it can still be found as a specialty food.. 

Grapefruit

The grapefruit is a large citrus fruit known for its tangy flavor; it’s a natural hybrid of the pomelo (the largest of the citrus fruits) and the sweet orange. It was first discovered in the Caribbean, possibly originating from Barbados during the 17th century. The fruit gained popularity during the 18th century and was soon cultivated throughout tropical regions, though the true origin of its name remains a mystery.

There were many early names for the new citrus; often, names were confused because oranges, grapefruit, pomelos, and other citrus fruits looked so similar. According to the horticulture department at Texas A&M University System, by the 19th century, Jamaican farmers knew the fruit as “grapefruit” because it grows in clusters on trees, much like grapes. However, other sources suggest that the association with grapes originated not from its appearance, but from a Dutch physician named Wouter Schouden, who visited Barbados in 1664 and described the sour fruit as tasting like “unripe grapes.” 

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Navy Bean

What do you call small, white beans commonly used in dips, stews, and soups? One of the most common names is “navy beans,” but their creamy shade is far from blue. As it turns out, the name comes from their long association with the military. These nutrient-dense beans have saved many soldiers and sailors from starvation thanks to their long shelf life, making them a staple in the armed forces’ diet. During the late 19th century, they became closely associated with the U.S. Navy, earning the legumes their contemporary moniker.

But navy beans have been around for thousands of years, long before the U.S. Navy commandeered them. They’re also known as haricots (French for “beans”), pea beans, Yankee beans (in Australia), and Boston beans. The bean was a staple of American Indigenous diets, often prepared with maple syrup and lard. New England colonists modified the recipe to include pork and brown sugar — similar to the modern recipe for Boston baked beans — and soon, giant crocks of baked beans were found in hearths around colonial Boston, earning it the appellation “Beantown.”

Crab Apple

Crab apple trees have been cultivated for thousands of years, originating in Central Asia. They gained particular popularity in medieval Britain (and later, colonial America), where their small, tart fruit was used to produce hard cider — a safer alternative to drinking water at the time. During the Middle Ages, the fruit’s English moniker emerged, likely from the adjective “crabbed,” meaning “perverse, wayward” in Middle English, which describes the crab tree’s gnarled and spiny appearance. 

Today, “crabbed” is still used as an adjective to describe ill-formed and hard-to-decipher handwriting (“His signature was crabbed and illegible”) or something that is contorted and difficult to understand. So, while the name may evoke thoughts of crustaceans, it actually reflects the tree’s appearance.

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2 MIN READ

Is the Semicolon Dying Out?

The semicolon is a useful punctuation mark for joining independent clauses and separating complex list items, but it seems to be on the decline, and there’s a different punctuation mark on the rise as a replacement.

by Samantha Abernethy
semicolon symbol

The semicolon has been around for more than 500 years, ever since Venetian printer Aldus Manutius first used it in the 1490s to add clarity to a sentence of complicated clauses. But now the punctuation mark is endangered. A 2025 survey by Babbel found a notable drop in its appearance in written communication, showing the semicolon falling out of fashion.

The semicolon’s job is to provide clarity when joining two complete clauses into one fluid thought. To the ear, it brings a pause stronger than a comma but not as strong as a period. So, why has it fallen out of fashion? Perhaps partly because writing style has shifted toward shorter sentences. Instead of joining two related independent clauses, we’re now more likely to break them into shorter sentences or insert an em dash.

For example, where we once would have written: He was late; she had already left.

We now write: He was late. She had already left.

There’s nothing wrong with that change, but it reflects a broader move toward efficiency and simplicity in modern writing.

Perhaps it’s not only that people don’t like the semicolon, but also that they don’t know how to use it. Babbel found that many of those surveyed did not know how to use semicolons appropriately; maybe you want to quiz yourself, too. 

The semicolon would not be the first punctuation mark to go extinct. The interrobang (‽) — a hybrid question mark/exclamation point invented in 1962 — never quite caught on and now exists mostly as a novelty. But for the time being, the semicolon continues to hold its place in formal writing and academic prose, as well as in poetry and literary fiction. And there’s still one place where the semicolon proves essential: separating items in a complex list.

We visited Bologna, Italy; Nice, France; and Madrid, Spain.

Try writing that sentence with only commas, and you’ll get lost somewhere in southern Europe. 

😉

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3 MIN READ

What Are the Most Difficult Languages To Learn?

Which languages are easiest — and hardest — for English speakers to learn? It depends on the alphabet, grammar, and more.

by Jennifer A. Freeman
Hand writing on a blackboard in an Arabic class

Some languages are easier to learn than others, and the answer to “Which language is easiest?” varies based on the speaker’s native language. The closer a language is to an already-known language, the easier it will be to learn. The most difficult languages to learn typically have a different alphabet than the learner’s native language. For example, French is easier for an English speaker to learn than other languages because it uses the same Latin alphabet, whereas Greek would be more difficult because it uses the Greek alphabet.

Easy Languages for English Speakers To Learn

Spanish

According to the U.S. census, Spanish is the most common non-English language spoken in the U.S. It is also one of the easiest for American English speakers to learn because both languages use the Latin alphabet and share many cognates (words that have the same definition and sound very similar), such as “airport” and aeropuerto and “hotel” and hotel.

Norwegian

Norwegian and English are both members of the Germanic language family, so they share a lot of the same vocabulary. These languages also have similar sentence structures. For example, “Can you help me?” is written as Kan du hjelpe meg? in Norwegian. While not spelled exactly the same, the words are a 1:1 equivalent and the sentences even sound similar. 

Indonesian

Many Asian languages are difficult for English speakers to learn, but Indonesian is the exception. It is one of the few Asian languages that uses the Latin alphabet, and it’s a phonetic language, meaning that words are pronounced as they’re spelled.

Other easier second languages for native English speakers to learn are Swedish, Dutch, Portuguese, Italian, and French.

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Difficult New Languages for English Speakers

Any language that uses a different alphabet or a very different sentence structure will be more difficult to master. Additionally, some languages are tonal, meaning that the pitch of a word conveys (and changes) its meaning, something English speakers are not used to. This is the case in many Asian languages, including Vietnamese, Chinese, and Thai.

Mandarin Chinese

Mandarin Chinese is the most popular of a few Chinese dialects. This tonal language is composed of four tones, meaning that one word can be pronounced four different ways. Ma means “mother,” “horse,” “rough,” or “scold,” depending on how it is said. Mandarin Chinese also uses thousands of special characters that can be challenging for English speakers to memorize.

Arabic

Arabic is very different from English. It excludes most vowels, is written from right to left, and uses its own alphabet. Some Arabic sounds, especially those made in the back of the throat, are difficult for native English speakers to master.

Polish

Polish is one of the most difficult European languages for English speakers to learn. It uses a Latin-based alphabet, but the Polish alphabet has 32 letters (including diacritics, or letters with accent marks), compared to the 26 letters in English. Polish words tend to be long and packed with consonants and accents. Polish grammar is also more complicated: It has seven cases, whereas English has three (subjective, objective, and possessive).

Other difficult second languages for native English speakers to learn are Russian, Turkish, Danish, Hungarian, Vietnamese, and Thai.

However, when starting from scratch — as a baby would, with zero knowledge of any language — there is no language in the world that is more or less difficult than another.

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