Critical Ramifications of Aggravated Panoplies

E'en Homer nods, occasionally slipping on a banana skin to reveal his Achilles' heel.
That is to say, even professional word-mongers sometimes use words or metaphors poorly. The term 'panoply', as I have mentioned in the related website (see at head of this blog), seems to have acquired spurious overtones of pomp and brilliance through its superficial resemblance to the word 'pageantry'. It really means 'complete set of weapons'*. Is this what Arnold Bennett intended when he wrote "Then a dark and elegant young man in full evening panoply appeared [in a dance hall] from the street"; or again, in the context of another social event, "The exit of Dr and Mrs Raste in full panoply . . . into the garden . . . took place at ten o'clock" ? No - I think Bennett was unaware of the meaning of the word: note how in both instances he uses the phrase 'full panoply': the word element 'pan-' already means 'full' or 'inclusive'.

*  from the Greek word 'panoplia ' ('pan-' = complete and 'hopla ' = weapons). The translators of the King James Bible were interpreting St Paul's use of that word (if indeed he originally wrote in Greek) when they wrote "Take unto you the whole armour of God" - the breastplate of righteousness, the sword of the spirit, the shield of faith and so on.

"Are there likely to be ramifications between the USA and the British Government following this decision ?" asked a BBC News presenter. I guess he meant something like 'complex repercussions affecting relations between the USA and Britain'. But 'ramification' (from Latin ramus = branch or twig) means (literally) 'making branches' or (metaphorically) what we might think of as 'knock-on complications' spreading in the pattern of branches and twigs. 'Ramifications between two nations' is nonsense.

And we are often told that a person in hospital is 'critical'. A critical illness is one the outcome of which has yet to be judged or assessed. A person may be 'in a critical condition' (ie in a condition of uncertain outcome). But to say that a person him- or herself is critical means something quite different: it means that they are criticising. And strictly speaking (which we usually aren't) the word criticise (from the Greek word krit-es meaning a judge) means to assess, or to use one's impartial judgement, with no implication of carping or complaining or disapproving. 'Crisis' (from Greek krisis) means a judgement, a deciding moment.

As for aggravation, let us once and (wishfully) for all explain that it derives from the Latin stem gravis meaning heavy, and means 'adding weight to'. We use it metaphorically and correctly in the phrase 'aggravated burglary', implying that it wasn't just simple burglary, but burglary with violence added to it. We could say that 'adding insult to injury' aggravates the injury by making it heavier to bear. We can say that pneumonia is 'aggravated' (or made more burdensome) by exposure to cold air. But for that excellent journalist Andrew Rawnsley to write about "the government's growing aggravation about Whitehall's inability to keep secrets" is nonsense*. In this instance, it is not the government that is becoming more burdensome, but its problems. And Rawnsley's misunderstanding of the term 'aggravation' is betrayed by his describing it as 'growing': the sense of 'growing' is built into the term itself (by the Latin prefix ad-).

*  I think Rawnsley meant 'irritation'. But because the passage quoted comes from a report (in The Week) of Rawnsley's article rather than from the original itself (in The Observer), it is possible that the fault lies with The Week's editor who may have paraphrased Rawnsley's words clumsily. Incidentally, I am aware that this misuse of the term 'aggravate' has a long history: but that doesn't make it right.

Critical ramifications of aggravated panoplies
(First published on former website The Merry Pedant, Saturday, 22 August 2009)