‘Riding the ‘ronacoaster’: An A-Z of new terms we’ve learnt during the pandemic

It was the one thing we didn’t want to happen: a global pandemic on a scale humans haven’t grappled with in a hundred years – at the same time as Brexit, a worsening climate catastrophe and the delirium of a Donald Trump presidency. 2020 has been bleak chaos.

Following the news in 2020 has been like watching news on steroids, and acid, drugging us in a never-ending avalanche of confusing and chaotic messages. There has been no coherent narrative in the tale, save for a certain consistency to the government’s inconsistency, accompanied by the numbing blows of almost relentless tragedy.

Amid the horror, the Sars-cov-2 virus, a type of coronavirus which causes the disease known as Covid-19, has totally re-engineered much of human existence.

In many countries this has resulted in national lockdowns and other systems designed to prevent people intermingling with one another, in an attempt to slow the spread of the highly contagious pathogen.

The vast curtails on freedom have meant for long periods of 2020, an act as (previously) innocuous such as meeting up with friends can be classified as a dangerous illegal activity, meanwhile facemasks in enclosed public spaces are largely mandatory.

Like the great social upheavals of the past, societal change comes with a unique set of terminology. Just as “perestroika” and “glasnost” became common currency around the world at the end of the Cold War, now, “support bubble”, “social distancing” and “contact tracing” occupy major neural highways in people’s minds in the early 20s.

A leading specialist in contemporary slang, Tony Thorne, of King’s College London, who has been keeping an exhaustive list of coronavirus terms has said that “Coronaspeak”, as he calls the new language of the pandemic, “can help the public make sense of the unfolding crisis, but it may also increase levels of stress and confusion if people can't keep up.”

He notes that in China, the outbreak of the disease led the authorities to make language service providers - who monitor and assist with language barriers - part of the official emergency response to disasters.

This was vital because when China experienced medical supply shortages, international assistance came from more than 70 countries, involving a plethora of international or regional languages, including less commonly taught languages.

But in the west, it seems we take a very different approach. Left to our own devices, our language has become peppered with a mixture of scientific terms, slang, and new names for binge drinking, all of which have rapidly appeared to fill in the sudden holes which have appeared in the fabric of society.

The Independent takes a look at the newspeak of the coronavirus pandemic.

Air bridge

Instantly confusing, in early July 2020, Boris Johnson said there was going to be “a small list of countries where we are going to have the air bridges”. He meant flights. Later the same month amid confusion, government messaging began to substitute the phrase “international travel corridors”. They mean flights – to destinations from which you will not have to quarantine upon your return to England. 

Anthropause

The hiatus in usual human activity brought about by the first lockdowns of 2020, which saw a significant impact on wildlife and nature.

Armchair virologist

Appearing like an unwelcome rash across social media, numerous excitable commentators suddenly seemed to know a suspiciously large amount about disease vectors, epidemiology and oxygen intake, and took to dispensing their sneering expertise loudly and unnecessarily.

Bleach

“Do not inject bleach”, pleaded bleach manufacturers after an infamous Donald Trump news conference, during which the president of the US cast about – on the spot – for cures to the virus.

“I see the disinfectant where it knocks it out in a minute,” Mr Trump said. “One minute! And is there a way we can do something, by an injection inside or almost a cleaning?”

No.

Barnard Castle

A historic market town in County Durham just under 300 miles from London, and 25 miles from Dominic Cummings’ father’s farm. According to the UK government, 300 miles is a reasonable distance to travel to find childcare – even if you live in London – and 25 miles each way is a reasonable distance to drive with your family in the car while you feel ill and need to test your eyesight for a longer journey – say, back to London.

Belper Moo

In an insane world, crazy responses are the only sane course of action. The psychological impacts of the first lockdown were felt particularly acutely in one Midlands town where locked-down residents began a nightly mooing ritual – imitating distressed cattle in a bid to ward off boredom and release their frustrations.

Caremongering

Apparently widely used in Canada and India, this refers to an act of generosity or kindness towards others before footage of the encounter inevitably turns up on social media for public appraisal.

Clandestine barbers

The speakeasies of the hairdressing world, “clandestine barbers” are those which have kept offering their services – illegally – during the lockdown.

Clap for carers

While the mournful cry ringing through the towns during the great plagues of yore was “bring out your dead”, the 21st century street-level soundscapes have been more clatteringly optimistic. Every Thursday at 8pm the front doors of all the houses would be flung open by families clapping and banging cooking implements in a national appreciation of the work done by the NHS and other key workers.  

Chris Whitty

No, I’d never heard of him before either. The chief medical adviser to the UK government rose to almost national treasure-level prominence in the public consciousness due to his appearances with various government ministers all of whom were invariably standing behind lecterns bearing trite slogans.

#Coronatimes

Sadly not a call to arms by the celebrated Mexican beer manufacturer, but a phrase to describe the nasty, brutish and lengthy era we appear to be living through.

Coronapocalypse

Sadly not a term for cataclysmic mass overindulgence in the celebrated Mexican beer, but the literal ruination of our economies, societies and cultures due to the pandemic.

Corona Extra

The celebrated Mexican beer. Despite reports of the brand suffering due to its association with the deadly virus and photographs on social media of supermarkets’ beer shelves bereft except for crates of Corona, the company has apparently enjoyed a “bumper year”. ¡Salud!

The coronopticon

Apparently coined by the Economist magazine – this is the very real threat to personal freedom posed by those who hold unprecedented levels of data on people. From government health apps, to location tracking software and state surveillance programmes, these technologies rolled out in the name of preventing the spread of the virus have the capabilities to make us the most tracked society in history. The name comes (presumably) from philosopher Jeremy Bentham’s “panopticon” prison design. Look it up if you aren’t familiar (I wasn’t) it’s – exciting stuff.

Covidiot

One whose behaviour falls below acceptable standards regarding the virus, particularly in taking the precautions designed to hinder the spread of the virus. Typical examples might be failure/refusal to wear a mask, heedlessly mingling with people who have the disease, playing down the impacts of the virus, and failing to take political action when urged by the country’s most senior scientists.

Covid-secure

The adjustments required for organisations, workplaces, schools etc, after lockdown to ensure people can return safely, these include measures to enforce social distancing, hygiene and advice on what protective gear needs to be worn.

Covid waltz

The awkward shuffle people spontaneously launch into when passing on narrow paths or pavements to avoid the close proximity of other humans.

Circuit breaker

A short sharp lockdown designed to rapidly reduce infection rates – the longer it is left before it is used, the less effective it is. Comes from the electric device of the same name which protects important electrical devices from damage when a fault is detected.

Elbow bump

Handshaking is out, because germs. Hugging is out because germs, the French style double air kiss on the cheek is out, because germs. Elbow bumping is in. So is the “Wuhan shuffle” – see below.

Incubation period

Number of days between initial infection and when symptoms first appear. According to the UK government current estimates (December 2020) give an average incubation period of five days, but can range between one and 11 days. The maximum incubation period is used to define the period required for isolation, currently believed to be 14 days.

Key workers

A term to denote workers deemed to be invaluable to society. These include frontline NHS staff, firefighters and supermarket workers.

Flattening the curve

During the first peak of the pandemic in Europe in spring 2020, the efforts to reduce the rapidly rising daily number of infections became known as “flattening the curve”, due to the desired impact on the graphs showing the infection rate. Reducing peaks in infection numbers meant health services were less likely to be inundated.

Fattening the curve

The calorific impact of staying at home with little to do.

Flu bro

Those groovy dudes (imbeciles) who argue the disease is merely influenza: “It’s just the flu, bro.”

Furlough  

“I’ve been furlonged,” my neighbour told me over the fence. No, Rick, you’ve been furloughed.

As of mid-November 2020 the overall cost of the UK government’s furlough scheme was £43bn – equal to half an HS2 railway. Overall, UK government borrowing is forecast to hit £394bn (about three and a half HS2s) for the current financial year (April 2020 to April 2021), according to the Office for Budget Responsibility. It is the highest figure ever seen outside wartime.

Furlough Merlot

Wine drunk to pass the time spent not working. This 2020 vintage is an economically ruinous little number that is bound to go viral. Utterly undetectable on the nose or the palate, but nonetheless imbued with despair, alienation and mistrust of authority. It has a lingering finish. Evocative of Spanish vintages from the early 20th century, this is best served at a high temperature.

Lockdown

The biggest social and psychological experiment for some time. “Stay at home, protect the NHS, save lives”, barked the UK government’s sloganeering department. And we did – well, except those in need of long-distance childcare.  

From 23 March 2020, people stayed at home, shuttered businesses, stopped socialising, roads were emptied of cars, the price of fuel dipped to under a quid a litre, the skies were devoid of aeroplanes, and we waited, for months. Pubs, restaurants and hairdressers (which survived) were able to reopen on 4 July.

Long Covid

One in 20 people who contract Covid-19 are likely to suffer from “long covid”, in which symptoms have persisted for weeks or months and can be highly debilitating.

Maskulinity

A mental fog which flusters fragile individuals – invariably men – who feel their manliness has somehow been compromised by being asked to wear a mask in public.

Miley Cyrus

Cockney rhyming slang for coronavirus. People likely to suffer a dose of the Mileys are those who don’t Bob Squash their brass bands.

The New Normal

Everything is not as good as it used to be. 

The pandy, the Panny-D, the pando

The pandemic in Australian.

Pain-demic

A potentially lethal outbreak of amateur bread-baking in a locked-down home.

PPE

No longer necessarily refers to the Oxford University course of choice for would-be politicians – in the new #coronatimes PPE has been rebranded and stands for Personal Protective Equipment.

Panic buying

First came the reports from down under as “Australia goes potty for loo roll”, panted the press. Next came a run on hand sanitiser and bottled water. Within days, the UK was at it too. 

Photographs of empty shelves filled social media feeds, pasta-buying limits were enforced, yeast became a thing of the past, strong white flour began to command high prices on the black market. Videos of upset shift workers led to temporary changes in who had priority access to some shops. As lockdown wore on, most of the supplies returned.

Plandemic/Scamdemic/Shamdemic

Presumably from the same geniuses who came up with the subversive “Bliar” for Tony Blair, “ConDem” for the Conservative-Lib Dem coalition government, and “wake up sheeple”.

Nonetheless, conditions for conspiracy theorising have never been better. A collapse in trust in government, the media, science, one another, reality, and a widespread sense of directionlessness have left people grasping for any available hold on the sinking wreckage of our civilisation. Well, maybe that’s understating it. But whatever’s going on, growing numbers of people are latching onto unsubstantiated and dangerous ideas. If it has a catchy play on words title, it’s bound to be a winner.

In October, a survey of about 26,000 people in 25 countries, carried out by YouGov and the Cambridge Globalism Project, found staggering levels of mistrust in vaccine safety and belief in various conspiracy theories, with those believing the virus's death rate had been “deliberately and greatly exaggerated” accounting for 60 per cent of respondents in Nigeria and more than 40 per cent in Greece, South Africa, Poland and Mexico.

About one in four French respondents and one in five British respondents said they believed the death rate had been exaggerated.

Quarantinis

A horror cocktail blended from all the dusty old bottles at the back of the cupboard – served with ice.

Rat-lickers

Those who refuse to wear masks despite having no good reason to do so. This delightful sobriquet comes from the (likely apocryphal) reports that during the black death era, misguided fools would apparently lick rats as a means of warding off the plague. Lovely.

‘Ronacoaster

We’re in our seats, the locking mechanism has come down over our heads, and there’s no getting off the ride until it’s over, or unless the wheels come off and the whole train comes crashing to the ground in a broken mess. This is the ups and downs, switchbacks, dizzying loop-the-loops and accompanying nausea the impact of the pandemic has had on people.

Ronavation

All the renovations and minor building projects people have found time to carry out on their homes during lockdown.

Rule of Six

In September 2020 it became illegal for groups of more than six people to meet up, anywhere. In keeping with its handling of the crisis, the government included utterly baffling exemptions to keep people guessing, including allowing mass grouse shoots to go ahead, so could guided museum tours, which could inexplicably take up to 30 people, and casinos adhering to “covid secure” guidelines could also host groups of more than six people. 

Second wave

From the earliest days of the pandemic, fears of a second spike in infections were raised by experts. These were brushed aside, even as the wave roared ahead of us in September. By October over 20,000 people a day were testing positive, up from highs of around 5,500 during the first wave – though of course levels of testing have increased.

Scotch egg

A chimerical food stuff which eludes classification. This breadcrumb-encrusted political football may or may not be classified as a “substantial meal”, or two of them could be a starter, depending on which government minister is being pressed on the matter.

Social distancing

The ultimate in doublethink-oxymoronic expressions, it is a term so neat, so destabilising in its internal irony, the cognitive dissonance turns reality inside out and upside down, and thereby prepares the mind for a range of other cognitive gymnastics it would otherwise struggle with.

You can see people, but from afar. Do not touch them. Keep two metres away. Put up a plastic screen. Step into the road so they can pass. Do not have sex with them until Matt Hancock has decreed it acceptable .

Social shielding

This term was used more widely during the first peak of the pandemic in spring 2020 – referring to a self-imposed quarantine particularly for those who may have come into contact with anyone with symptoms, or for vulnerable people.

Staycation

One which has been around for some time, and despite it’s common currency, still seems to cause confusion. The term first became popular in the wake of the global financial crisis when a weak pound and need to save money meant people opted to holiday at home. The word does not mean a holiday in the same country. That’s just a holiday. Staycation is a portmanteau of the words stay and vacation – you stay exactly where you are – at home. Going to Cornwall for a week is not a staycation, it’s a holiday. If you already live in Cornwall and you take time off work and put your feet up at home, then yes, that’s a staycation.

Stockholm syndrome

The theory that everything would be absolutely fine without any national effort to tackle the disease.

Substantial Meal

A precise amount of food one must order in a pub to be allowed to order alcohol in a tier 2 area – the only problem is no-one knows what the exact classification of a “substantial meal is”. What we do know is that a substantial meal is measured in scotch eggs.

After environment secretary George Eustice said he would consider a Scotch egg to be a “substantial meal,” The Independent has heard reports of pubs selling them for a pound each to drinkers in order to abide by the law.

Michael Gove cast further light on the issue saying he believed two Scotch eggs could constitute a starter. Really helpful stuff.

Support Bubble

This is how we justify “seeing people”, during the coronapocalypse.  

This innocuous sounding term has an insidious dictatorial component – it’s not a “mates” bubble, or a “family” bubble. The word “support” makes it clear it is aimed at those emotionally feeble members of society who are so weak they can only derive comfort from the company of others. You have to admit you can’t cope.

Has also given rise to bubble as a verb. “We’ve been bubbling with Fred,” etc.

Test and Trace

“England’s test and trace system is the envy of the world”, bleated health secretary Matt Hancock in October, just 24 hours after government scientists warned the system was failing badly.

The £10bn system would be “worth every penny”, chancellor Rishi Sunak said in July, and would enable people to carry on normal lives. But by Autumn, tier systems were in place, pubs were ordered to close again and the national “circuit breaker” lockdown indicated Mr Sunak had been a tad on the optimistic side over the summer.

Upperwear

In the era of mass WFH, why bother getting dressed? Oh yeah, you have to be on a Zoom call with Dave from marketing at 10.30am. Ah well, won’t need trousers, just a shirt. Welcome to the age of upperwear. All falls apart when the meeting goes on longer than expected and you absent-mindedly get up to find your phone, revealing your tartan PJs/Bart Simpson boxers.

Vaccine hesitant

Quite a self-explanatory term, but as the Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency chief executive Dr June Raine has said, quite clearly: “We have carried out a rigorous scientific assessment of all the available evidence of quality, safety and effectiveness. The public’s safety has always been at the forefront of our minds.

This followed the MHRA’s approval of the Pfizer vaccine, which was rolled out this week, and amid warnings that “alarming” numbers of people are unwilling to take a Covid vaccine. 

“Vaccines are the most effective way to prevent infectious diseases. They save millions of lives worldwide," Raine added. 

Vaccine nationalism

Attempts to create and/or secure vaccines for one country’s citizens without giving heed to the citizens of other nations. In March, the bighearted folks at the Trump administration offered a German medical firm “large sums of money” for exclusive access to a Covid-19 vaccine.

Wet Market

Not a dreary day in the cobbled square of a small English town, but the somewhat queasy term which has shot to prominence during the pandemic and merely means markets which sell fresh meat, fish and other produce. They differ from “dry markets” which sell stuff like electronics and fabrics. Usually wet markets have their floors hosed down after closing each day.

The coronavirus which causes Covid-19 was linked to a fresh produce “wet market” in Wuhan. However, it became clear the market in question allegedly sold "live wolf pups, salamanders, civets, and bamboo rats", and would have been better described as a “wildlife market”. The difference was lost in the noise to cover the apparent source of the virus, and US politicians called for a ban on wet markets.

Wet Pubs

A pub which depends only on drinks to make money, rather than food. This is important because pubs in tier 2 areas (almost everywhere) are currently only able to serve alcoholic drinks alongside a “substantial meal”, and therefore must have access to a considerable supply of Scotch eggs.

Wuhan Shake

A little foot-tapping dance which emerged in China during the heady days of the first lockdowns. The greeting went viral at the same time as the virus did.

Ventilator

Not to be confused with a respirator, ventilators are machines which keep air flowing into and out of people’s lungs by mechanical means. Only used when people are unable to breathe sufficiently for themselves. They give patients suffering from lung conditions – such as those caused by Covid-19 – time to fight off the virus and recover. Demand for the complex machines soared in the UK as numbers of people contracting the disease rose.

Zoombombing

There’s good Zoombombing, and there’s bad zoombombing. Examples of the more acceptable side of Zoombombing include pranking your housemates while they’re on work conferences. Megalolz.

Then there’s the bad kind. This is where malicious hackers have interrupted Zoom sessions with stuff like pornographic videos or streamed child sex abuse.

Zoom chief executive Eric Yuan made an apology and the company improved security after a spate of incidents earlier this year.

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That’s it! Use with care, and add your own in the comments below.