One of the most testing aspects of modern communications, is the use of jargon. Of course it has its use – it saves a considerable number of words when people who are knowledgable in certain matters are having a conversation. But it has an irritating side too. Many people who use it seem to wish either to show off their perceived cleverness, or to blind others with terminology when trying to sell an idea or product.

Almost every aspect of life seems to be filled with jargon – all sports, politics, economics, broadcasting, journalism, cookery, freemasonry, piano tuning, music, computing, aviation, sailing, engineering, business, and so many more. Sociology is another jargon-laden human endeavour, even though it is dismissed by many as languishing somewhere between a statement of the obvious, and pointless bunkum.

Another testing part of modern communications, is the ever-increasing, mindless, and frankly ridiculous use of Americanisms. People are now declaring that trivial matters are “not that big of a problem”, regardless of the fact that the extraneous “of” is even bad American, never mind bad English. Rebellious youths are erroneously referring to British police officers as “the Feds”, a fatuous and deplorable habit they have acquired from American films and television programmes. And of course, there is that ubiquitous nervous tick, excessive use of the word “like”. I could go on, but I don’t wish to give any Americans who might be reading this a complex.

You may be wondering, dear reader, if there is any form of connection between jargon, sociology, and British acceptance of the barbaric abuse that passes for English usage in the United States, or whether I’m just being my usual, curmudgeonly self. Well, you’ll be glad to know that I’ve found a connection. And it’s a truly appalling one.

Sociologists love to create names for every social group they can think of. And probably some that they can’t. One way of grouping society is to lump us all into specific generational groups. The “Baby Boomers” (born between 1945 and 1964), were followed by “Generation X” (born between 1965 and 1981), who were followed by “Generation Y”, also known as “Millennials”, ( born between 1982 and 1994). They, in turn, were followed by “Generation Z”. Who came before the “Baby Boomers”, and will will come after “Generation Z” is unknown. To me at least. If any sociologist wishes to enlighten me, they may.

Unsurprisingly, the term “Generation Z” is often lazily abbreviated to “Gen Z”. And so, dear reader, we get to the heart of the matter.

For some reason, best known to themselves, Americans have decided that they wish to demonstrate their difference to the rest of the anglophone world, by insisting that the name of the twenty-sixth letter of the alphabet is “Zee”. A consequence of this wanton display of linguistic exceptionalism, is that lazy sociologists refer to “Gen Zee”.

So far, so revolting. But to be fair, what an American chooses to do in the privacy of his or her own home, is entirely his or her own business.

However, the moment of disgust, the moment of outrage, the moment of true depravity, occurred while I was listening to the radio the other day. Two British broadcasters, on a British radio station, talking to a British audience, about young British people, thought it proper to refer to “Gen Zee. This is the sort of barbaric and perverted act for which the pillory was invented. These malefactors should spend at least a week being pelted with rotten eggs, over-soft tomatoes, mouldy cabbages, and transcripts of their programme. As Mr Toad might say, that’ll learn ‘em.

If British people must make use of the linguistic offerings made by their counterparts in the United States, why can’t they use words such as “scurrifunge”? This splendid piece of New England dialect means the sort of panicked tidying up one might do having had twenty minutes notice of the arrival of the mother-in-law, when the house is terribly messy. Surely I’m not alone in thinking that this would be a far more pleasing, healthy and wholesome Americanism to adopt than any extraneous “of”, or mispronounced letter.

Incidentally, dear reader, you may have a browny point if you can spot the Americanism I used that doesn’t have quotation marks around it. I shouldn’t imagine that there’s anything you can do with a browny point, but it might be a nice thing to have.