These Words Must Be Destroyed

This year I was in despair. For the first time in years I couldn’t come up with enough material to fill my annual list of words and phrases that are so over-used or pretentious that I want them destroyed.

But then I asked Isthmus staff for suggestions and associate editor Linda Falkenstein came through with a list that made me think, “Oh yeah, I hate that too!” Not all of the words and phrases below were supplied by Linda and there was some on her list that I had never heard of — Glow up? Parasocial? Main character energy? This only means that I really need to get out more.

In any event, with a big thank you for the assist, here goes:

At the end of the day. When it’s all said and done and in the final analysis, “at the end of the day” needs to be retired.

Circle back. Let’s use this in a sentence: I was so lazy that I didn’t circle back to see if I had listed “circle back” (or anything else on this list) in a previous year. It doesn’t matter. If it’s on this list it means that my earlier decree to wipe it from the face of the earth has not been heeded. Bad on you.

Complementary football. When I first heard this I thought they meant complimentary football. I imagined coaches meeting at midfield after a game and saying things like, “Coach, that was a really great game plan you had out there today.” “Oh, no, coach, you really had your team ready to play this afternoon.” But it turned out they meant something like when your defense recovers a fumble your offense takes the ball and scores a touchdown instead of fumbling it back (see Wisconsin Badgers). They probably were able to score because their running backs were running “downhill” on that level field. Downhill is still everywhere in the world of sports color commentary, with the exception of skiing.

Fake it ‘til you make it. I’ve got a better idea. Start at the bottom. Don’t pretend to know more than you do. Learn. Take on new responsibilities and show that you can handle them. And then mature into a leadership position that you’ve earned.

GOAT. Why is it that we make the Greatest of All Time in any endeavor sound like a scraggly, smelly barn yard animal?

Lean into. Let’s blame Sheryl Sandberg for this one. Her 2013 book Lean In sought to show her readers how to become a Silicon Valley trillionaire just like her. There’s a little bit of fake it ‘til you make it in Lean In. Sandberg tells us it’s important to look and sound the part and to keep those elbows sharp. There’s less in there about actual competence. Let’s lean out.

Moment. Okay, so now this is one that — despite my laziness (see circle back) — I know I’ve identified in a previous year. But this year it’s gotten totally out of control. Everything is happening “in this moment.” Why not just say “now”? Why? Because “in this moment” sounds so much more profound. Moment is such a simple, innocent word and yet so many people have turned it into the winner of the subcategory Most Pretentious Word of the Decade.

Offline. “Let’s take this offline” is another way of saying “let’s put that in the parking lot” which is another way of saying “that’s a really dumb idea and we will never discuss it again.” But it can also mean the opposite as in, “You’ve now dared to bring up the elephant in the room and the issue we really should be discussing but are instead sweeping under the rug and so let me take that offline with you in my office where we can discuss your severance package.”

Perfect! I listed these in alphabetical order but if I were to have started with the 2025 Word That Must Be Destroyed Right Now it would be “perfect!” It is now officially impossible to order any meal without your server telling you that you have made the perfect choice. Really? Gosh, I don’t know. I might just as easily have ordered the salmon but then at the last minute I moved to the steak and frites. It was like winning the lottery. I don’t feel like I deserve it.

Reaching out. Nobody contacts anybody anymore. They “reach out” as if they have a religion or a philosophy or a mantra that if accepted will save the person’s soul. You have an offer for a new Costco membership? Well, that really will transform my life, but you can just offer it. You don’t need to reach out. I accept.

The Resistance. I take a backseat to nobody in my disdain for Donald Trump, but c’mon people, can we drop the drama? I am most definitely NOT part of “The Resistance.” I am not wearing a black turtleneck and beret, sipping coffee at a cafe and plotting to blow up bridges and derail troop trains. In fact, if you insist on declaring yourself a member of The Resistance, I’ll turn you in to the authorities and request a front row seat when you appear before the firing squad.

Student-athlete. I’ve attacked this phrase with the viciousness it deserves in my frequent writing about college athletics. But this year it has become even more obnoxious than ever. UW Athletic Director Chris McIntosh can’t exhale without saying it twice. This is no accident. McIntosh is trying to hold on to the last vestiges of the indentured servant system that once was at the heart of big time college sports. The phrase was invented in the 1950s by the NCAA as it was fighting a college football player who had been injured and was claiming workers compensation. Perish the thought! If the player won, he and his brethren would be considered university employees. They’d have to be paid a fair wage! They might get health insurance! They might even (gasp) form a union! So, as players inch further toward getting fairly compensated for their work, the UW, which has fought that tooth and nail, is now doubling down on the “student-athlete” scam. And every time McIntosh or anybody else at the UW uses this phrase they know just exactly what they’re doing.

Uptick. Increase is a good word. So is improvement. When I hear uptick I get itchy.

Weather alert! One of the local TV stations has Alert Days! You know the tornado scene that begins The Wizard of Oz? Or for that matter the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan? Yeah, it’s gonna be like that. We’re all gonna die. Panic now, the rain’s coming.

And here’s one that’s not on my list: Six-Seven or is it 6-7? Linda’s take on it is: “I don’t CARE what it means, just STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.”

But I like it. It’s the latest in a long tradition of words and phrases developed by a younger generation to confound and annoy their parents and elders. And it does not commit the mortal sin of all bad words — it’s not pretentious. I find 6-7 to be groovy and if you’re not hep enough to dig it, well, that’s just wack.

A version of this piece originally appeared in Isthmus.