We would forgive the folks in a memory care unit for this mistake, but it is unforgiveable at the Presidential level.
Language matters. In my nearly 40 years of writing about political communication, rarely have I heard a President misspeak with so little apparent awareness. You probably know where this is going. The moment was a few weeks ago when the Iraq air attack was explained by the President as an “excursion,” which is an unambiguous term of English used to describe a pleasant trip, much like what a cruise line might offer off the coast of a tropical island. Excursions are meant to be fun. And a person usually pays something extra to make the trip with a guide.
Someone in the Whitehouse surely wrote a briefing note that initially explained and justified the coming military “incursion’ that would supposedly shock the Iraqi military. Excursions and incursions sound similar but are miles apart in what they imply. The accidental reversal of the terms would be an honest mistake for someone just learning the language. But this malapropism from a President suggests a seriously muddled brain, all the more so because the error of usage was pointed out to him in public and—I hope—by aides as well. Not only should a staffer have insisted he correct his usage, but they should have pointed out that the wrong term would make him look like a fool. But Trump didn’t stop, looking like the last person to worry about what is a serious error of cognition.
We would forgive the folks in a memory care unit for this mistake of standard usage. But it is unforgiveable at the Presidential level when the misuse is bound up with real lives that have been lost. It is the equivalent of calling a tyrannical leader a “depot,” or state-sanctioned executions as useful “detergents.” These malapropisms can be funny when the speaker is in on the joke, which was usually the case with people in our recent past like George W. Bush Jr. and comedian Norm Crosby. But it is a grotesque reveal of stupidity when the user does not care about what is an unintended signifier.
Even with these advantages, there’s reason for some caution if a person’s work includes addressing an audience. The problem is that an activity that is essentially a kind of performance may trigger what amounts to a double dose of stimulation, given the natural increase of adrenaline that comes when we face others in a public setting. For most of us, a modest adrenaline rush is actually functional in helping us gain an edge in oral fluency. Like caffeine, adrenaline makes us more alert and maybe just a little smarter. But combining what are functionally two stimulants can be counter-productive. They can make a presenter wired tighter than the “C8” string at the top end of a piano. We all know the effects. Instead of the eloquence of a heightened conversation, we get a jumble of ideas that are delivered fast and with too little explanation. Add in a vocal pitch that will probably be higher than our natural range–along with a dry-throat from the diuretic effects of caffeine–and you may not be quite ready for prime time.