I admit that Roman history is not my strong suit – Romulus and Remus, the Rubicon, Julius Caesar being done to death, Horatius at the bridge, straight roads and that’s about it.
But I’ve always treasured the word cohort – one of the 10 units of a Roman legion. But that affection is fast being soured. Consider the following: “Alberta Health releases more detailed guidance on cohorts, how to form them”; “Nurseries to keep children in ‘cohorts’ of eight amid social distancing reopening plans”, “Start Codon showcases the first cohort of companies from its life science business acceleration programme”.
This is just a taster of recent headlines. When a word becomes fashionable, there’s simply no stopping it. Look how furloughs and bubbles suddenly ruled the headlines and airwaves. And now cohort. In the above cases and others, rather than opting for the straightforward word “group”, people have a tiresome attack of grandiosity. Can we just keep it simple, please?
On a far happier note, congratulations to Dr Todd Gray, a historian at the University of Exeter who, after a two-year campaign, has persuaded the Oxford English Dictionary to include the word “quilling” – the old practice of politicians bribing voters with copious amounts of alcohol to win their favour – in future editions. I can’t be certain but this seems to me very like what Boris Johnson has just done with his welcome announcement about pubs reopening on 4 July.
In preparation for your return to the bar, some of those new pub restrictions fully explained. Here’s mud in your eye, down the hatch, chin chin, bottoms up. But please bear in mind that your eyes, hatch, chin and bottom must be thoroughly sanitised lest a patrolling policeman chooses to examine you.
•Jonathan Bouquet is an Observer columnist
