Saturday, 31 March 2018

A three-line whip

A three-line whip. Listening to the Radio (BBC Radio 4) just now I’ve discovered what this phrase actually means / comes from: British Parliamentary procedure!  Ex-MP Gyles Brandreth is interviewing people about Persuasion – no, not the Jane Austen novel – but the art of persuasion. He recalls how when he was a Parliamentary Whip he had to let MPs know if they had to be in the Chamber of the House (of Commons) to vote. The instruction was either underlined with one line – important – or two lines – very important – or, in extremis, three lines: Your presence in the House is absolutely vital, and you MUST vote with the Government on this...  And so this is a ‘three-line whip’!

BBC Radio 4, Saturday 31st March 2018, 10.30am: ‘Gyles Brandreth and the Art of Persuasion’ https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b09x8qfh

Interestingly, when I look this up online, I see, repeatedly, that dictionaries give the actual meaning and use of the phrase ‘a three-line whip’. But I don’t find it easy to find examples of the metaphorical use. While I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s a ‘three-line whip’ was a common phrase to say that something was being strictly enforced. If my father was repeatedly late for supper, for instance, my mother would say, “Don’t be late again – this is a three-line whip, Ron!” So I am surprised online dictionaries don’t seem to acknowledge this everyday usage. Maybe it’s fallen out of everyday use... or maybe I’m simply getting old...!

‘In the UK a three-line whip is an instruction given to Members of Parliament by the leaders of their party telling them they must vote in the way that the party wants them to on a particular subject.’  https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/three-line-whip (accessed 10.58, 31.03.2018)

‘A single whip is simply a guideline, while a double whip (or two line whip) is stricter - and attendance at the vote is required. The three-line whip is a 'vote with the party or get out'. The number of lines comes from the number of times that a vote is underlined by the Chief Whip in the parliament's schedule.’  https://english.stackexchange.com/questions/11593/where-does-three-line-whip-come-from (accessed 11.00 31.03.2018)

The Whip
Every week, whips send out a circular (called 'The Whip') to their MPs or Lords detailing upcoming parliamentary business. Special attention is paid to divisions (where members vote on debates), which are ranked in order of importance by the number of times they are underlined.
Three-line whips
Important divisions [opportunities for MPs to vote on the outcome of debates] are underlined three times - a 'three-line whip' - and normally apply to major events like the second readings of significant Bills.
Defying a three-line whip is very serious, and has occasionally resulted in the whip being withdrawn from an MP or Lord. This means that the Member is effectively expelled from their party (but keeps their seat) and must sit as an independent until the whip is restored.’


So what is a ‘division’ in the UK Parliament?
‘In parliamentary procedure, a division of the assembly, division of the house, or simply division is a method for taking a better estimate of a vote than a voice vote. Typically, a division is taken when the result of a voice vote is challenged or when a two-thirds vote is required.’

In parliamentary procedure, a division of the assembly, division of the house, or simply division is a method for taking a better estimate of a vote than a voice vote. Typically, a division is taken when the result of a voice vote is challenged or when a two-thirds vote is required.
A division is also called a rising vote, where members stand up from their seats. According to Robert's Rules of Order Newly Revised (RONR), the numbers for and against are not counted in a division. However, they may be counted by order of the chairman or by order of the assembly through majority vote. The assembly may also have a rule that the division is counted.
Historically, and often still today, members are literally divided into physically separate groups. This was the method used in the Roman Senate, and occasionally in Athenian democracyWestminster system parliament chambers have separate division lobbies for the "Ayes" and "Noes" to facilitate physical division. In several assemblies, a division bell is rung throughout the building when a division is happening, in order to alert members not present in the chamber.’




Thursday, 1 March 2018

Snowmageddon

‘Snowmageddon’ is what Inside Science’s* presenter today called the very cold snap of freezing Siberian-wind-driven weather that we’re currently experiencing here in the UK.

Snow + Armageddon: meaning clearly, and instantly recognisably, some kind of ‘disaster by snow’, which is what is facing large areas of the snowbound UK tomorrow, with airports, roads, schools, and dozens of other types of businesses closed.

Why do we so love blending two words together? It seems to have become a real craze in recent years. ‘Brexit’ has got to be the most prominent new word-blend in our UK news and political discourse these days: Britain + exit (ie. from the European Union). I don’t remember so many new words being coined like this as I was growing up forty or so years ago... Or perhaps I just didn’t hear or read them, but they were always quietly being coined. For instance, new uses for old words like – well before my time – the making of a verb out of the noun ‘park’ (meaning a garden, but a static place for plants and pleasure, or the carefully cultivated area around a large country mansion or palatial house) and then appropriated for vehicles: we don’t think about ‘parking’ our cars these days, we just do it. And ‘parking’ as a noun has, it seems to me from my own observation when travelling or talking to people from a very wide range of other countries, become one of those many truly international English words, but usually used as a noun – many non-native speakers of English refer to ‘a parking’, as in, “We need to find a parking”: this use is still, it appears, non-standard English, but is widely used to mean either ‘a car-park / a parking lot’, or ‘a parking space’.

But these days new coinages are ‘out there’, worldwide at the touch of a button, so that’s maybe why I’m hearing so many day in, day out. And maybe it’s why so many coinages are occurring – it’s like a craze which has caught on and we’re all running with it. Well, whatever the reason, who cares? It’s as if we’ve seized the baton and we’re running with it: for the sheer exhilarating joy of language!



*Armageddon: an event of great destruction https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/armageddon

** BBC Radio 4 Inside Science 16.30, 01.03.2018


*** park Middle English: from Old French parc, from medieval Latin parricus, of Germanic origin: related to German Pferch ‘pen, fold’, also to paddock. The word was originally a legal term designating land held by royal grant for keeping game animals: this was enclosed and therefore distinct from a forest or chase and (also unlike a forest) had no special laws or foresters. A military sense ‘space occupied by artillery, wagons, stores etc in an encampment’ (late 17th Century) is the origin of sense 2 of the noun (early 20th century) ie. 2.‘an area devoted to a specific purpose’ e.g. 'business park'.   (Google 01.03.2018)

The Beast from the East

The first day of March 2018, and ‘The Beast from the East’ is here! Severe weather warnings... amber warnings (‘be careful’) and red warnings meaning ‘life is in danger’. Blizzard conditions, ice everywhere, and snow deeply drifting on hills and in the valleys, streets and towns... Winter weather is here, but the name the UK media are using is typically dramatic: 'The Beast from the East' to describe the Siberian weather sweeping over the country today and, it’s forecast, well into tomorrow too.

And there is more to come: apparently, we are to also expect – also tomorrow – 'The Pest from the West' which will be in competition with the 'Beast'...  

There’s nothing more that UK journalists love than to create nicknames for people, things, weather fronts... whatever!

What I find so interesting about this, though, is how traditional and ancient poetic devices like alliteration, or as in these examples, rhyme are seized upon with such enthusiasm. Many people say they don't like poetry, or never read it, but perhaps they do, in a manner of speaking. There’s perhaps nothing more satisfying than monosyllables in word-pairs in nice balanced phrases: ‘a blast from the past’ is one of my favourites that I learnt at an early age from my mother, who relished words, word-sounds, and word-games.

And she is not alone. It’s not only the light-weight media, the ‘red-tops’ (the old ‘tabloids’ like the Daily Mirror or the Daily Mail etc) that love these rhyming words: even the ‘sensible’ BBC News teams have taken on these nicknames – and the BBC’s weather forecasters themselves are telling the public to stay indoors and not to venture out into the path of the The Beast from the East...

The British are fairly obsessed with soap operas, and now it seems they've made the weather into one!!!

But what a welcome into March... L