In the fim “Hot Frosty,” currently streaming on Netflix, a snowman magically comes to life after a sad and lonely widow places a scarf around his neck one cold winter’s eve. Once the snowman becomes sentient, he looks and acts like any other human man, for the most part. But he does have a few quirks that set him apart from the other flannel-wearing leading men in holiday specials. For one thing, he can’t be in warm temperatures or he begins to melt. Same with eating hot food. Also, he has a limited grasp on the English language. He’s fluent, but does not understand idioms. When the sad and lonely widow tells him to lay low, he takes this literally and immediately hits the deck. And, after stumbling upon some medical records in the widow’s basement, the snowman asks her, “What is cancer?”
This, to me, was more ridiculous than a hunky snowman coming to life because how can he speak fluent English but not know the word cancer? I found it absurd. Until I saw Merriam-Webster’s word of the year — polarization.
If you are unfamiliar with the definition of polarization in the year 2024, I have to assume you are a snowman recently come to life because the word has been inescapable for at least a decade, and I cannot believe there are people living among us who do not know what it means, and frankly all of us are tired of hearing it.
This is part of the problem with this Word of the Year ritual to which we are subjected every year around the holidays.
Merriam-Webster’s process for determining its word of the year is a bit vague. The website states, “Search volume on Merriam-Webster.com throughout the year reflected the desire of Americans to better understand the complex state of affairs in our country and around the world.” Whether that means “polarization” was actually the most-searched word or just a pick that the dictionary staff knew would create online buzz remains unclear. I have to hope it was the latter so as not to lose total faith in my fellow man.
Merriam-Webster also featured nine other words that they say “stood out in our lookup data in 2024,” most of which feel more current than “polarization.” The words include:
- Totality, thanks to the total eclipse in April.
- Demure, a word popularized by TikTok creator Jools Lebron.
- Fortnight, the title of one of Taylor Swift’s singles off her latest album “The Tortured Poets Department.”
- Pander, the verb both political parties accused the other of doing during the presidential campaign.
- Resonate, another word employed often during the election season.
- Allusion, the maritime word for “collision,” used when describing the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapse in March.
- Weird, vice presidential candidate Tim Walz’s favorite descriptor for the Republican ticket.
- Cognitive, used most often with “ability” to call into question President Joe Biden’s capacity for serving four more years.
- Democracy, a word I truly hope users were looking up to better understand and not Googling after hearing it for the first time.
Though more relevant than “polarization,” in my opinion, none of these words are as interesting as the word of the year from across the pond at the Oxford University Press: brain rot. I’m willing to look past the Brits’ “word of the year” actually being two words because I think it’s the perfect pick that encapsulates how it feels to be older than Gen Z and Gen Alpha and attempting to understand their vocabulary.
The Oxford University Press writeup explains, “‘Brain rot’ is defined as ‘the supposed deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state, especially viewed as the result of overconsumption of material (now particularly online content) considered to be trivial or unchallenging.”
But, the statement explains, the term is more nuanced than that definition suggests, thanks to the rapid-evolving nature of language on social media.
“It has also been used more specifically and consistently in reference to online culture. Often used in a humorous or self-deprecating manner by online communities, it is strongly associated with certain types of content — including creator Alexey Gerasimov’s viral Skibidi Toilet video series, featuring humanoid toilets, and user-generated ‘only in Ohio’ memes, which reference bizarre incidents in the state.”
If you’re wondering what “Skibidi Toilet” and “Ohio” mean when used online, congrats, you’re the proverbial snowman come to life, asking, “What is cancer?” But you’re not alone. Anyone over the age of 25 seems to struggle to understand TikTok slang. Or maybe I speak for myself.
I’ve spent untold hours trying to understand words like “skibidi” and the use of “Ohio” as an adjective. And just when I think I’m close to understanding, I hear those words used in a new way, and I’m suddenly further from getting it than when I started. So I’m thankful for Oxford University Press’s explanation:
“This content has given rise to emerging ‘brain rot language’—such as ‘skibidi’, meaning something nonsensical, and ‘Ohio’, meaning something embarrassing or weird — which reflects a growing trend of words originating in viral online culture before spreading offline into the ‘real world’.” Which could explain “brat” and “manifest” being the Collins and Cambridge dictionaries’ words of the year.
If that statement is to be believed, and more words originating in online viral culture are about to hit the real world, we’re all going to need to grow accustomed to encountering these words in the wild, feeling as clueless as a sentient snowman lying on the floor.
It seems possible that if the younger generations continue to invent words and phrases online, there will be a growing divide among the young and older. And that might lead to, you guessed it, polarization. So maybe Merriam-Webster isn’t behind the times. Maybe they’re predicting a future vocabulary landscape. Maybe next year’s word of the year will be “prescient.”