The Curious Origin of the Word ‘Gobbledygook’

By Dr Oliver Tearle (Loughborough University)

What connects the word ‘gobbledygook’ with the word ‘maverick’? To discover the link, we need to delve into the origins, or etymologies, of both words. But first, let’s consider how we came to have the word gobbledygook to refer to meaningless jargon or nonsense.

First of all, how is gobbledygook spelt? Is it gobbledygook? Or gobbledegook? The Oxford English Dictionary lists both, although has gobbledygook in its header, for reasons that will become clear. Both are acceptable ways of spelling this distinctive word. Now we’ve got the spelling sorted out, how on earth did such a word come about?

The word ‘gobbledygook’ (or ‘gobbledegook’) was first recorded in the Second World War, when it was invented by Maury Maverick, a congressman from Texas, who used it to describe bureaucratic doubletalk. In a memorandum dated 24 March 1944, Maverick wrote: ‘Stay off the gobbledygook language. It only fouls people up. For the Lord’s sake be short and say what you’re talking about.’

There are two things we might observe about this appeal to use plain, direct language. First, Maverick’s context implies that, specifically, it is jargon he is worried about: he wants those he’s addressing to lay off the overly technical and specialised language that ‘fouls people up’ (i.e., confuses people), in favour of brevity and directness. ‘Calling a spade a spade’ might be another way of phrasing this, in a popular idiom.

The second thing we might note is that Maverick used the word ‘gobbledygook’ before the word ‘language’, implying that he viewed it as a sort of adjective, much as if he’d written ‘stay off the specialist language’. One wouldn’t write, ‘stay off the jargon language’ but simply ‘stay off the jargon’, so when Maverick coined the word, he viewed it as more of an adjective than a noun – although a noun it has come to be, when the majority of people use it. These days, people would simply say, ‘stay off the gobbledygook’.

But where and how did Maverick come up with the word? The ‘gobble’ part is a clue. Maverick appears to have been inspired by the sound that turkeycocks make: first ‘gobble’ and then ‘gook’. The word has come to mean simply ‘pompous and unintelligible jargon’ which, to the uninitiated, makes about as much sense as the noise of a turkey gobbling (and gooking).

Since the word is onomatopoeic in that its sound reflects its meaning (apparently nonsensical consonants strung together), it’s perhaps little surprise that gobbledygook very quickly took off as a term. Indeed, the OED has another citation from 1945, just one year after Maverick’s inaugural use, in the Tuscaloosa News, a local newspaper in Alabama: ‘The explanations sound like gobbledegook to me.’ The spelling may have (slightly) changed, but the meaning was already clear – unlike the very jargon at which Maverick’s neologism took aim.

So, gobbledygook can best be described or defined as language, but especially jargon, which is long-winded, or pretentious, or else so specialist in its references as to be unintelligible to most people. Although the word has come to be synonymous with ‘nonsense’ or ‘gibberish’, it’s usually a particularly official kind of gibberish, used in bureaucratic, technological, scientific, or political contexts.

Indeed, sticking with the war context out of which Maverick’s word emerged, it’s worth noting that the word features (somewhat anachronistically since the show is set during the First World War) in Blackadder Goes Forth, where General Melchett hears Blackadder use it and takes a shine to the word, deciding to use it in conversation. Baldrick, very much the village idiot of the show, mishears the word as ‘gobble-a-duke’.

So, what connects the word ‘gobbledygook’ with the word ‘maverick’? Well, Maury Maverick was, as his name implies, a descendant of Sam Maverick, a Texas engineer and rancher in the nineteenth century. Samuel Maverick’s name was the source of the eponymous coinage ‘maverick’, which originally referred to his free-roaming and unbranded cattle and later, by extension, to anyone who is unconventional and goes against the norm.

So the man who gave us the word ‘gobbledegook’ was a descendant of the man who gave us the word ‘maverick’: two very useful words, especially when describing politicians.


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1 thought on “The Curious Origin of the Word ‘Gobbledygook’”

  1. I have a series of poems based around the fictional kingdom of the Gobbledegooks. Here’s one. Enjoy!

    Oh say you remember the Gobbledegooks,
    Cor blimey, what funsters! Good gracious! Gadzooks!
    Today there’s a flurry, like waves on the ocean;
    Prince Rupert’s gone missing, now here’s a commotion.

    A pirate, a parrot, a ferret, a flea,
    Adrift in the boisterous, roisterous sea,
    Sail past in a schooner (or is it a galleon?)
    In search of that rascally, ratbag rapscallion.

    Fandangle-fantabulous falcons in flight,
    A troll on a tricycle trailing a kite,
    Kaleidoscope jesters cartwheeling through hoops
    And tatterdemalion, tumbleweed troops,

    The King and the Queen, the Princesses (of course!)
    Squirrels on scooters, Girl Guides on a horse,
    All fossick through foliage, trawl through the trees
    And rummage round rockpools, all soaked to their knees.

    The playground is plundered, the park’s been inspected,
    No hiding-place ever so small is neglected
    Nobody can spot ‘im, nobody can see ‘im
    In sweet-shop or toy-shop or Mushroom Museum.

    The Queen’s getting frazzled, the King is perplexed,
    The Grand-Duke’s bamboozled on what to do next.
    Then midst all the hubbub, the hoo-ha and fizz,
    A wee voice starts singing, “I know where he is!”

    ‘Tis Hilda the youngest of scullery maids,
    The sweetest of face and the longest of braids.
    The Lords and the Ladies stop speaking and swallow
    And when Hilda beckons, they all of them follow.

    Down steep, stony staircases, several flights,
    Past suits of old armour from long-ago knights.
    Past state-rooms and banquet-halls, dungeons and such,
    Through velvety curtains that sway to the touch.

    They march through the kitchen where Cook’s baking bread,
    A great cloud of flour-dust swirls round her head.
    A dozen assistants all scuttle about;
    The great oven’s smoking, red flames flicker out.

    At last to the scullery, dingy and dim
    And stacked to the tippy-top, uppermost brim
    With frypans and saucepans and ramekins too,
    With wee pots for custards and large pots for stew.

    And there in the corner a cauldron gigantic
    Where Hilda leads all of the searchers so frantic.
    Right there in the pot-bottom, down in the deep,
    Lies little Prince Rupert, still smiling, asleep.

    The Grand-Duke’s elated, the court is ecstatic,
    Their shouting awakens the bats in the attic
    Who flock from the belfry, a dark flapping cloud
    And swoop o’er the heads of the up-gazing crowd.

    “Hoorah!” cry the people, the Gobbledegooks,
    “Hoorah!” echo all of the Lords and the Dukes.
    The King gives a speech to which nobody listens
    And there on the cheek of the Queen, a tear glistens.

    The servants, excited, give Hilda a cheer –
    They name her the scullery-maid of the year.
    And as for Prince Rupert, a moment he’ll borrow
    To whisper to Hilda, “Can I come back tomorrow?”

    Reply

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