One of my favorite words in the whole
of the Oxford English Dictionary

is "snollygoster,"

just because it sounds so good.

And what snollygoster means
is "a dishonest politician."

Although there was a 19th-century
newspaper editor

who defined it rather better when he said,

"A snollygoster is a fellow
who seeks office

regardless of party,
platform or principle,

and who, when he wins,

gets there by the sheer force
of monumental talknophical assumnancy."

(Laughter)

Now, I have no idea
what "talknophical" is.

Something to do with words, I assume.

But it's very important that words
are at the center of politics,

and all politicians know
they have to try and control language.

It wasn't until, for example, 1771

that the British Parliament
allowed newspapers to report

the exact words that were said
in the debating chamber.

And this was actually
all down to the bravery

of a guy with the extraordinary
name of Brass Crosby,

who took on Parliament.

And he was thrown into the Tower of London

and imprisoned,

but he was brave enough,

he was brave enough
to take them on, and in the end,

he had such popular support
in London that he won.

And it was only a few years later

that we have the first recorded use
of the phrase "as bold as brass."

Most people think
that's down to the metal.

It's not; it's down to a campaigner
for the freedom of the press.

But to really show you
how words and politics interact,

I want to take you back
to the United States of America,

just after they'd achieved independence.

And they had to face the question

of what to call
George Washington, their leader.

They didn't know.

What do you call the leader
of a republican country?

And this was debated
in Congress for ages and ages.

And there were all sorts
of suggestions on the table,

which might have made it.

I mean, some people
wanted him to be called

"Chief Magistrate Washington,"

and other people,
"His Highness, George Washington,"

and other people,

"Protector of the Liberties

of the People of the United States
of America Washington."

Not that catchy.

Some people just wanted
to call him king --

it was tried and tested.

They weren't even being monarchical,

they had the idea that you could
be elected king for a fixed term.

And, you know, it could have worked.

And everybody got insanely bored,

because this debate
went on for three weeks.

I read a diary of this poor senator
who just keeps coming back,

"Still on this subject."

And the reason for the delay
and the boredom

was that the House of Representatives
were against the Senate.

The House of Representatives didn't want
Washington to get drunk on power.

They didn't want to call him "king,"
in case that gave him ideas,

or his successor ideas.

So they wanted to give him
the humblest, meagerest,

most pathetic title
that they could think of.

And that title ...

was "President."

(Laughter)

"President." They didn't invent the title.

I mean, it existed before,

but it just meant somebody
who presides over a meeting.

It was like the foreman of the jury.

And it didn't have much more grandeur

than the term "foreman" or "overseer."

There were occasional presidents
of little colonial councils

and bits of government,

but it was really a nothing title.

And that's why the Senate objected to it.

They said, "That's ridiculous!
You can't call him 'President.'

This guy has to go and sign treaties
and meet foreign dignitaries.

Who's going to take him seriously
if he's got a silly little title

like 'President of the United
States of America'?"

(Laughter)

And after three weeks
of debate, in the end,

the Senate did not cave in.

Instead, they agreed to use
the title "President" for now.

But they also wanted
it absolutely set down

that they didn't agree with it,

from a decent respect for the opinions
and practice of civilized nations,

whether under republican
or monarchical forms of government,

whose custom it is to annex,

through the office
of the Chief Magistrate,

titles of respectability --

not bloody "President."

And that, in the intercourse
with foreign nations,

the majesty of the people
of the United States

may not be hazarded
by an appearance of singularity --

i.e., we don't want to look
like bloody weirdos.

Now, you can learn
three interesting things from this.

First of all -- and this is my favorite --

is that, so far as I've ever
been able to find out,

the Senate has never formally
endorsed the title of President.

Barack Obama, President Obama,
is there on borrowed time,

just waiting for the Senate
to spring into action.

(Laughter)

The second thing you can learn

is that, when a government says
that this is a temporary measure --

(Laughter)

you can still be waiting 223 years later.

But the third thing you can learn --
and this is the really important one,

the point I want to leave you on --

is that the title, "President
of the United States of America,"

doesn't sound that humble
at all these days, does it?

Something to do
with the slightly over 5,000

nuclear warheads he has at his disposal

and the largest economy in the world

and a fleet of drones
and all that sort of stuff.

Reality and history
have endowed that title with grandeur.

And so the Senate won in the end.

They got their title of respectability.

And also, the Senate's other worry,
the appearance of singularity --

well, it was a singularity back then.

But now, do you know
how many nations have a president?

A hundred and forty-seven.

All because they want
to sound like the guy

who's got the 5,000 nuclear warheads, etc.

And so, in the end, the Senate won

and the House of Representatives lost ...

because nobody's going to feel that humble

when they're told that they are now

the President of the United
States of America.

And that's the important lesson
I think you can take away,

and the one I want to leave you with.

Politicians try to pick and use words
to shape and control reality,

but in fact,

reality changes words far more
than words can ever change reality.

Thank you very much.