Why Do We Hate the Word “Moist”?
- Posted by: Mark Peters
- on August 1, 2009 at 3:20 pm
The strange linguistic phenomenon of word aversion
There is so much hate in the world. People hate smoking, Starbucks, American Idol, air travel, bears, and people of all stripes, based on their race, sex, religion, sexual orientation, nationality, height, width, or favorite Beatle. As for me, I hate Johnny Depp (for his awful, cartoony version of Hunter S. Thompson) and pea soup (too many putrid bowls scarred my childhood).
But of all our prejudices, one of the strangest is surely word aversion, the odd phenomenon of people being grossed out, in an almost physical way, by certain words.
As University of Pennsylvania linguist Mark Liberman said, when the topic first popped up on Language Log in 2007, word aversion is different from word rage, which is “where people get angry at jargon or slang associated with a despised group, or upset because a word or phrase is felt to be incorrectly used, or annoyed at language that they perceive as redundant, or overly complicated, or pretentious, or a cliché, or trendy, or politically incorrect.” That kind of dislike is more common. Grudges against irregardless, synergy, like, don’t go there, or retard fit comfortably in the word rage department.
But word aversion has something to do with the sound and structure of the word itself. As commenter Shannon said on a recent Language Log post, some reactions are “…bred of the mysterious relationships between language, emotion, memory, sound and ‘mouthfeel.’” I’m more used to seeing the word mouthfeel in discussions about beer, but it sure does get at the physical violation some feel when saying certain words.
Other recent Language Log comments—and boy, do these kinds of articles attract comments—illustrate the varied, visceral repugnance of word aversion. Irina detests stimulate, which “feels sexual in an icky way.” Bonita Kyle dislikes vegan, a word that “seems so ugly.” Alan Gunn had an unfortunate driving experience that future street-namers may wish to consider: “There’s a road I use occasionally named ‘Smilax.’ It’s named for a kind of vine, but I can’t help thinking about laxatives whenever I see the sign.” But commenter alyxandr has the most surprising feeling: “If it’s not too meta, i’ve never liked ‘English’; it sounds like you just stepped in something you’d rather not know about.” Maybe this is because English rhymes with squish—or it’s just a perfect reminder of how individual and unpredictable word aversion can be.
Then again, it’s easy to predict that when word aversion is discussed, the patron yuck-word of the movement will be mentioned: moist. This word gets on the wick of more people than any other, for reasons that are still not entirely understood, although it seems that the main offendees are female and the main reason for their revulsion is the supposed off-the-charts ick factor of the word. Facebook groups like “I HATE the word ‘moist’,” “Moist is a WRONG word,” and “People who hate the word Moist!” abound. Check out these recent tweets:
“thank you the word moist, for being the worst word ever. i think i speak for all americans when i say we don’t want you as a word anymore.”
July 29, 2009, Holly Melynn
“@Pandabeara EWWW MOIST. I really do hate that word. except in reference to cake.”
July 28, 2009, The Barron
“least liked word of the day: moist… :shudders:”
July 28, 2009, Amber Kochanny
“#leastfavoritewords moist….that word makes me cringe”
July 28, 2009, Dawn Anderson
One tweeter speculates on the reason for the hate: “I don’t know, it just freaks people out. I guess moist is like a porn word or something…” (July 29, 2009, Amanda Keener). Indeed, since panties is another word frequently hated, you don’t have to be Dan Savage to see a sexual component in the dislike. On the other hand, the Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has noted that other hated words such as “Ointment and goiter share the ‘oi’ sound with moist: there must be something about that diphthong that gets under people’s skin.” Maybe he’s onto something: wet, damp, soaked, drenched, soggy, and water-logged have similar meanings to moist, but they don’t inspire the same kind of hostility.
Word-haters should learn a lesson from the moistaphobes: their ceaseless efforts to lambaste the word have only raised moist’s profile. But don’t let that stop you. Let me know what words give you the willies, and why.
(Tune in next week for a flip to the cool, nausea-free side of the pillow, as I switch to the topic of word attraction—the opposite of word aversion, in which people fall head over dictionary in love with words).
Photo from Flickr user Steve Snodgrass (cc).
DISCUSSION: 27 Comments
I once engaged a discussion that centered around which word was more icky: “moist” or “soiled.”At the time, I reckoned it had to do with both words’ most common usages. Soiled is often used in a sanitary context, and very often in a sanitary-napkin context. This, in and of itself, shouldn’t be that icky. I mean, periods happen. We should be used to them by now. But the clinical nature of the word in conjunction with reference to girl parts is what icks many people out (clinical + sexual = ick). Perhaps the fact that “moist” it’s often used in a food context in conjunction with the sexual connotation is the source of moist’s ick factor (textural + sexual = ick).Or, it’s the dipthong thing.By the way, how funny is the word “dipthong”? Pretty funny.
I’ve never been fond of words that sound like they are onomatopoeia but aren’t. For instance, I don’t really like the word slacks (which should be the name of the sound your thighs make when wearing corduroy) or thong (which should be the name of the sound a “g-string” makes when you stretch it too far and it snaps against your skin). I also prefer the word “sandals” to “flip flops” since flip flops is LITERALLY the sound the sandals make when you wear them!
Katiepoche- along the same lines, I know plenty of people who are averse to the word, ‘discharge’ for those very reasons, I imagine.
I do not hate the word “moist”. Although sometimes it gives a feeling of something that has rotten. But still it is not that much hated by me. I do not get irritated when I encounter this word in some description, or discussion.
I’m alright with ‘moist’ and don’t seem to have much word aversion myself. I have some words I LOVE though; audio, ray, fort, and aqua.
By a strange coincidence, we just put out an audio podcast speaking about my aversion to the word “moist” on August 1st as well. I very much agree it must be the diphthong as “goiter” does it for me too. “Mucous” and “pus” are also very high on the list. Thanks to “I’m in Parentheses.blodspot” , one of our very amazing listeners for pointing me to YOUR blog.
I dislike the name “Roy” and words that contain it because I feel like I’m slurring my speech when I say it – almost as if my mouth is too numb to enunciate. I haven’t come across anyone else with this aversion though…However, I love long scientific words, like bioluminescence and dictyoptera.
“Towelette” is right up there with moist, and so often linked. What about “refreshing”? That word gives me the heebie-geebies, only because someone said to me, about 20 years ago, that they thought the word “refreshing” was vile. But I wondered if anyone else felt that way.
“Nourish” and “cherish”. Hate those words. Also “Delish”. Must be an “ish” thing, tho I don’t mind “ish” used as a suffix.
i loathe the word moist. and am excited to learn that i am not alone in my hatred. most people make fun of me for this.other hated words: loaf, sofa, sack, pants.
Arrrrg! I really don’t mind the word moist, but you happened to use the one word I DO have a major aversion to in your very first paragraph. PUTRID. Ick, ick, ick….
Shouldn’t we be scratching away at the surface to find the latent subconscious root cause for these word aversions? I fear people are repressed if they can’t accept the word moist. Shout it louder and learn to love it. Come to think of it I really dislike the word “ick”,
Lots of the traffic about “Moist” is probably because it featured in an episode of “How I meet your mother” where one of the characters has a flinching reaction every time it is said.Distaste for the word may pre-date the episode and actually the writers may just have used an existing cultural thing.
One word: seepage. It’s one of those words (like ‘discharge’) that has a heavy clinical association with it that’s just disturbing.
I think all of you need to take a step back and realize words express ideas or concepts. Not all of the uses are pleasant but we need words to express that particular use. Not everything in life is nice. Moist is not the same as wet. Putrid is not the same as rotten. Sometimes only one word will fit the exact description needed. If we were to create another word that had the exact same meaning as the word you dislike eventually you would probably dislike it too. The words will continue to be there; so you can desensitize yourselves to the sounds, keeping their meanings withing the context of use, or learn another language.
I just spoke with a friend of mine about this and she has some words that make her cringe, just hearing them:mucus, tit, saliva, and squelch.
Si said…”Shouldn’t we be scratching away at the surface to find the latent
subconscious root cause for these word aversions? I fear people are
repressed if they can’t accept the word moist.”The reality is, no matter how much people might argue this point, NOBODY hates the word “moist.”In fact, it’s impossible to hate any word. Because the word isn’t a thing. Not even the word “word” is a thing. (Well it is, but it’s only a messenger. Don’t blame the word. Blame yourself.) A word is merely a mechanism (a symbol) that activates what neuroscience calls “constructs.” Constructs are basically clusters of neurons that have wired together to become a complex “memory.” When any word is mentioned, the brain sends “wake-up” calls to a certain set of constructs—those most commonly activated in situations where that particular word/symbol arises.Any emotion one feels toward a word, negative or positive, is not the word’s fault. It’s the result of the “game” of memory making. The word is just a player.Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Or better yet, change the game. Harboring disdain for anything is wasted emotional activity.I dare all of you who hate the word “moist” to try this experiment.Get a washcloth made of “terry cloth.” Bite down on the washcloth and say that word you hate 50 times. Then go eat five soda crackers without any liquid to wash them down. While you’re choking them down, write the word 50 times.Then, for one week. Make a point to use the word at least once a day in conversation. And, if you run across someone else who “hates” the word. Let them know that you are in the process of rewiring your brain. Tell them they’re having feelings for an abstract symbol and that their “hate” isn’t really for the word, but rather, for the memories the word activates.I dare you.
Interesting topic.I think aversion to the word moist is bizarre. It’s a word, people. Fine, whatever, say you don’t like the way a word sounds. But harboring an emotional aversion to a word goes a bit futher than simple dislike for a particular dipthong. My guess would be that this is an issue of one’s subconscious. There are obviously quite a few words on the aversion list with sexual connotations. I’ve heard of people who are embarrassed by hearing (even reading) the word vagina, for instance – that’s a personal issue with cultural roots. One would probably be better served by focusing on why these words evoke such a strong response rather than Tweeting them into pop culture oblivion.
This is a word I’ve always brought up in conversation, asking why people hate it so much. And it is always cringed at–it once made someone think of warm, mayonnaise donuts. Gross. When I do mention it, I always enjoy shaping my mouth in such a way as to seem full of something delicious while I very slowly pronounce “moist,” spending a lot of time on Mmmm. It irritates people so much, it’s entertaining.
I used to think “moist” was a gross-sounding word, but… after reading all these posts, I’m seeing a trend: “moist,” “panties,” “discharge,” and “vagina” are disgusting words? That upsets my inner feminist; it seems to support the theory that our society is terrified of vaginas (a theory first introduced to me in the awesome flick Teeth, about the legendary vagina dentata).
I don’t understand the hate for the word moist. When referring to body parts, maybe, but cakes are moist too. The nastiest wors in the english language is ’scrotum’ whic makes my toes curl. Disgusting. Whoever came up with ’scrotum’ was working overtime. It’s not even like another word, so you might see where it derives. A true original, and a disgusting word: scrotum.
Liz - You are not alone. I hate the word “school” for the same reason. When I say that word I feel like my mouth locks up. It sounds so primitive to me.
n8 you have given me a new perspective on this whole topic. Before I was thinking wow, these words that people are listing off can seem “gross” or “make you want to cringe” But i agree. It all stems back to your experiences and recollection of how that word has came across from the past. Very interesting. oh and jahola i think you are right about scrotum. ha!
n8 – I was thinking the same thing about “über” – I used to say it a lot as a teenager in the early 90s when I had limited transportation options and got all my info on what was cool from WIRED and Mondo 2000. I think the contrast in how awesome a new record, website, video can be when you are 15 to when you are 30 always make me dissapointed when I hear it.
my issue with words is when people copy them without giving credit. that first tweet is a direct quote from the jimmy fallon show from a few weeks ago.