Last September, in The Week, Theo Tait drew attention to a point made by Helen Rumbelow, writing in the Times:
“Jonathan Porter, deputy head of Michaela, proudly one of the strictest schools in Britain, offers tips on discipline in a new blog post. One is to use “pop commands”. Instead of saying, “Sit down!” say, “Pop yourself over there.” One’s mastery of this meaning of the word is a test of Britishness. “Pop” has stealth power, turning any speaker into an indomitable northern matron, calling to “Pop the kettle on, love.” We could make more use of this national secret weapon: tell criminals to “pop that knife down”; Russia to “pop its murdering spies in prison”; and billionaires to “pop their tax-evaded funds back”.”
Michaela Community Free School is in Wembley, north London, and was founded by Katharine Birbalsingh in 2014. Its motto is: “Knowledge is Power”. The school has become well known for a policy of unprejudiced “no excuses” discipline, applied to all pupils equally. It believes in creating disciplined habits of thought and action – habits that become integral to the pupil’s character.
The school is admirable and provides a much-needed corrective to the highly prejudicial and narrow-minded way in which a great deal of information is imparted nowadays, not least in schools and universities where impartiality and objectivity are surely crucial. I wouldn’t dream of criticizing its approach. But I must admit I have a slightly different experience of that funny verb “to pop”.
We often say we’ll “pop out” to the shops, or over the road for the traditional cup of sugar. We suggest by using the expression that our action is intended to be rapid, of short duration. It’s clearly related to that other meaning of “pop”: a quick, explosive sound, as in the firing of a very small gun or the drawing of a cork from a champagne bottle. The brevity of the action described can also suggest the covert or illicit, as in “popping” drugs or pills.
All fairly straightforward, so far. But what I find annoying is the way the dentist’s assistant, before I lie back under that searchlight, tells me: “pop your coat on that hook”, or “just pop yourself on that chair”. Very like the Michaela teacher talking to a student. But I’m not a student; I don’t have to be persuaded to do something by means of blandishments. I’m an ordinary adult who can understand and willingly obey instructions. In such a context, using the word “pop” is frankly patronising. It implies a lack of comprehension on the part of the person addressed, and a consequent need for simple, even childish, language. A test of Britishness? Surely not.
I can understand how the situation arises. Those who have jobs that bring them into close contact with many varieties of people need to evolve a one-size-fits-all form of delivery that doesn’t require quick, on-the-spot decisions as to how individuals should be addressed. It’s sad that such jobholders can’t stretch to the subtler nuances of interpersonal relations, but it seems to be normal nowadays in institutions like the NHS and privately provided services like dentists (and we discover, even go-ahead schools for intelligent pupils) to use pre-packaged expressions that make such decisions unnecessary.
All of which is no doubt an inevitable result of the sheer pressure of life in the service industries. But that word “industry” is another one that needs more unpicking. Another time.