Lesson 18: The development of

RP - Language as a social symbol

About this lecture
This lesson (quite a short one!) is based on chapter 5 in Changing English, but we will
also use some material from chapter 7, pp 227-234. We will look at the emergence of
accent/pronunciation as a marker of social identity, and especially as a marker of
belonging to a social elite in England from the mid-1700s onwards. We will look at
some ideas about why this happened at this time, and look briefly at the social arenas
in which the new upper class accent was formed.
We will then look at its spread through education and media, at the reasons why it
spread and reached its peak in the early- to mid 1900s, and at the role it has today.
Language used as a social symbol will usually not be stable or fixed even for an
individual: we will also look briefly at style shifting, and how the audience we are talking
to influences the social type of language used (with a nod to accommodation theory).
We will next look at some ways in which RP has changed, what is happening to it now,
and at Estuary English as a present source of influence.
We will then finally provide links to two samples: one of older RP and one of modern
RP(ish) pronunciation. You should examine these to see if you can identify some of the
changes we have mentioned.

1. Language as a social marker: Introduction

When the way people behave (or speak) is used for sorting individuals or groups into
those who belong with us, those who are ‘our kind’, ‘the right sort’ and those who do
not/are not, we say that such words, pronunciations and behaviours function as social
shibboleths. This term is taken from the Old Testament:

• ”Then Jephthah gathered all the men of Gilead and fought with Ephraim.….. And
the Gileadites captured the fords of the Jordan against the Ephraimites. And when
any of the fugitives of Ephraim said, “Let me go over,” the men of Gilead said to
him, “Are you an Ephraimite?” When he said, “No,” they said to him, “Then say
Shibboleth,” and he said, “Sibboleth,” for he could not pronounce it right. Then they
seized him and slaughtered him at the fords of the Jordan. At that time 42,000 of
the Ephraimites fell. ”
The Book of Judges, ch. 12

A shibboleth is thus a test case (related to e.g. language or social conventions) that is
used to sort out who can be admitted to a certain social circle, and who cannot: an
important point is that those who are excluded may not notice what they are doing
wrong, or perhaps even that a test is being applied!
In the original text, it is simply a test of geographical or tribal background, but today it
is primarily used about social belonging: a test of whether you belong to the same
social class as the group you attempt to mingle in.
Accent/pronunciation is obviously used to sort people socially, but it is not the only
aspect of language which is used for this purpose: in fact, grammar and vocabulary
may well have a longer tradition in this context. An example where non-standard
grammar is seen as socially dubious might be if someone says I ain’t got no
money instead of I have no money. And in Charles Dickens’ novel Great
Expectations (very much a novel about class and social climbing), vocabulary as well
as personal appearance marks out the protagonist Pip as not up to Estella’s exacting
social standards as they play cards while still children:
"He calls the knaves Jacks, this boy!" said Estella with disdain, before our first game
was out. "And what coarse hands he has! And what thick boots!"

I had never thought of being ashamed of my hands before; but I began to consider
them a very indifferent pair. Her contempt for me was so strong, that it became
infectious, and I caught it.

The most famous comment in English literature on pronunciation/accent as a social

test case is perhaps George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion (filmed as My Fair Lady). In this
play, Professor Higgins, (professor of phonetics!) makes a bet that he can make a
Cockney flower-girl pass as a duchess if she is taught proper RP.
He is eventually successful, though in this scene, he discovers that even if his
experimental subject’s RP pronunciation is impeccable, she cannot pass in high
society without training in grammar, vocabulary and appropriate subjects of
conversation also:

Link (Links to an external site.)

2. The origins of pronunciation as a social
marker in English
Changing English claims that the idea of one unified standard of pronunciation for well-
bred people across Britain (or at least across England) did not arise until the mid-
1700s. Before that, the educated classes were (or were expected to be) standardised
in grammar and vocabulary, but not in pronunciation:
Samuel Johnson: ‘Sounds are too volatile and subtile for legal restraints…’ (CE p.
154)
We have evidence a long time before this that some English speakers looked down on
other English speakers because of their pronunciation:
John Trevisa (1384): The northern pronunciation (especially at York) is ‘scharpe, slitting,
frotynge and unchape’ (CE p. 69)
In this case, it is not really a standard that is used as a point of comparison: it is simply
a southerner finding the northerners unpolished. There is no evidence that this view
made the Yorkshiremen want to change their pronunciation.
The fact that speakers with one accent look down on speakers with another accent
does not mean that a standard has begun to emerge. For that to be the case, we
would also need some evidence that the northerners actually accepted that their
pronunciation was local while the southern accent was not, and accepted that the
southern accent was more suitable in formal contexts. The idea of which is the better
pronunciation must have a wider acceptance: a standard is only a standard if even
those who do not use it accept it as such!
In the mid-1700s, we see a growing expectation that if you belonged to the upper or
upper middle class (or wanted to belong there), you also had to pronounce words in a
certain way. Why did this become more important around this time? Any answer to this
question would be speculative, but it is worth pointing out a couple of developments:
There was increased geographical mobility/urbanisation: the cities (especially London)
grew bigger. As long as most people stayed put where they were born, and lived in
transparent rural communities where everyone knew who everyone else was, you did
not need a special accent to know where people belonged socially. Even if the lord of
the manor had the same accent, more or less, as the farmhand, no one would be in
doubt about their respective places in society. In a big, bustling city, this was not
always so clear!
There was now a lot of money to be made in trade, including in the new manufacturing
industries, but the old elite would not necessarily want to include the new rich without
any distinction or conditions! Something to show that you had not emerged from the
workshop yesterday was perhaps needed.
We could also point out that clothes had used to be the most obvious sign of social
class. Before industrialisation, cloth was very expensive, and the clothes a person wore
were both a very substantial part of his or her property, and a very clear indicator of
social standing. The new manufacturing industries gradually reduced the price of cloth
so that even ‘ordinary’ people could afford several suits of clothing, not obviously
different from those worn by their betters. This might mean that the upper classes felt
the need for other, more obtrusive indicators of class (so they would know who they
could socialise with without lowering their status, and who not).
The accent – or one accent – of the London-Oxford-Cambridge triangle came to be
seen as desirable: this was the beginning of the accent which would become RP.
An interesting comment here is Sheridan’s on ‘cockney’ vs. ‘court’ pronunciation in
London (CE p. 155): “And as the court pronunciation is no where methodically taught,
and can be acquired only by conversing with people in polite life, it is a sort of proof
that a person has kept good company, and on that account is sought after by all.”
He is saying here that a ‘court-like’ pronunciation can only be achieved by conversing
with (other) persons belonging to the upper classes, and if you show by your
pronunciation that these people want to talk with you, you are yourself desirable for
social interaction for individuals further down the pecking order. It can be a bit of a
Catch 22, though: you need a good accent to be desirable as a conversation partner
for the upper classes, but you can only achieve such an accent by conversing with the
upper classes.
The polite accent is ‘nowhere methodically taught’, Sheridan said in 1762, but this
does not mean that schools would not be involved in its spread. The accent crystalized
into a distinct nation-wide marker of a membership of the upper class through its use
in Public Schools (which of course in England means prestigious private schools: Eton,
Rugby, Harrow, Winchester, Charterhouse etc.) and the universities (Oxford and
Cambridge) in the late 1700s/ early 1800s. The point was not that these schools taught
the RP accent formally – had separate classes in pronunciation. The creation of an
upper-class accent was primarily an effect of these institutions bringing together
members of the dominant class in a socially homogenous environment and immersing
them in such an environment linguistically, so that regional characteristics were be
ironed out. Mostly, we can assume that the disciplining of pronunciation was
performed by their fellow pupils. It is likely, though, that masters would also contribute,
by correction and ridicule of dialectal forms in vocabulary, grammar or accent.
Eton boys past and present
3. The great age of RP
The influence of RP grew in the late 19th century, and pure RP had its greatest
influence in the early- to mid-1900s:

• Social mobility grew, and with that the need to adjust your language to your new
social status
• The expansion of education meant that more and more of the population were
subjected to standardising efforts from teachers. Not all teachers spoke RP, of
course, but many of them would try to standardise to some extent. Teaching was
also an area where social recruitment was mixed: for ambitious young men of the
lower middle class, this could be a way upwards. However, teaching also came to
be one of the few acceptable professions for young women of a somewhat higher
social background. This probably also meant that language would be mixed, and
that those of a lower social background imitated those with a more standardised
pronunciation.
• In the early 20th century, we can already see the beginnings of the growth of the
service professions, where e.g. shop assistants had to serve their social superiors,
and therefore would be under a pressure to sound ‘genteel’. Secretarial positions,
for example, might have had some of the same social mixing as we saw in
teaching.
• The electronic media, in particular radio, meant a far greater penetration of RP into
local communities – even homes.

RP came for a long period to dominate the BBC, to the extent that it would be referred
to as “BBC English.”
This was a conscious choice by John Reith, the first Director General of the BBC. His
goal was to break down social barriers by giving more people access to the standard
pronunciation (but he obviously also saw RP as inherently better than other variants).
Attitudes from the BBC were often quite condescending. This YouTube clip is a
comedian’s (Harry Enfield’s) quite broad parody of the social attitudes to the working
class found in 1930’s/ -40’s broadcasting, but the attitudes it parodies were real
enough – as is the RP presented. Fair warning: the clip contains some (nonsensical and
incomprehensible) sexual innuendo. Don’t get this wrong: it is the upper class
attitudes, their ignorance and stereotyping which is being parodied!
Link (Links to an external site.)
(Greyson’s initial response here contains examples of Cockney rhyming slang – where
a phrase rhyming on the word intended replaces the word itself: pig’s ear = beer, loaf
of bread = head. Sometimes, only the first, non-rhyming element would be actually
expressed: ‘Use your loaf!’)
Regional variants were acceptable in “light entertainment”, but not for serious issues,
like the news. The first newsreader with a slight regional (Yorkshire) accent came on
during the war: it was claimed that this was because everyone could be certain that
this was the genuine BBC broadcast, since no German propaganda broadcaster could
imitate a Yorkshire accent! It is perhaps just as credible that this was to strengthen the
feeling that ‘we are all in this together’. However, RP remained dominant a long time
after the war.

4. RP today
”Pure” RP is today (as always) only used by a small minority of English speakers (3 –
5% ??). It is no longer required for many positions, and regional variants will
sometimes be preferred. However, even if the number of people speaking pure RP is
not very great, it is still far from a dying variant
Extreme/marked RP may carry a certain stigma in some positions, but RP has had, and
continues to have a strong influence. People tend now to be more comfortable with
mixing RP with some regional features: thus, while there are not many pure or marked
RP-speakers, the number of speakers with some RP-like features is probably growing.
It is possible that what we are witnessing is a regionalisation of pronunciation, in which
regional semi-standards arise, with some RP and some purely regional features.

5. Style shifting
When we say that people mix features, this may seem to indicate that each individual
will have a variety unique to her- or himself. There is some truth in this, but it does not
mean that a personal variety will be stable. Our language can give away both who we
are and who we want to be - but do we always want to be the same person? Very
often, a speaker will mix standard and non-standard features, and the exact mix varies
from occasion to occasion. Many RP-speakers do not always speak pure RP: they can
adjust their language so that it is more RP-like in some contexts, and has more
regional features in other contexts.
Language (and other social markers) will be based on both the social identity we are
socialised into, and the choices we make about which social identity we want to
project. To stick to language, we learn to speak in a certain way based on our family
background, the community in which we grow up, the education we acquire etc. It is
difficult to change this, but not impossible. Social climbing – moving upwards to a
higher socioeconomic group (lower middle class to upper middle class) – will often
mean that the person involved tries to alter some substantial aspect of their class
belonging, such as economic standing, but also to alter the more superficial social
signals (dress, taste, language).
Subject matter (what you talk about), setting (where the conversation takes place) and
audience (who you are talking to) will all affect the language you use: this really means
that all these factors affect the person you want to present yourself to be. Research
indicates that the audience you talk to seems to be the most significant of these
factors.
You can look, for example at Allan Bell’s research from New Zealand and Arthur
Trudgill’s research from Norwich. Trudgill came to listen to recordings he had made
earlier – interviews with people used to explore their use of certain language features.
However, what he noticed afterwards, when listening to his recordings, concerned his
own language rather that of his informants. Trudgill used the glottal stop / ʔ/ himself,
and he interviewed persons who used this sound to varying extent. What he noticed,
though, when listening to himself in the recordings, was that his own use of the glottal
stop would mirror that of his informants: the more frequently his informants used the
glottal stop, the more frequently he would use it himself. With an informant who hardly
ever used it, his own use would become quite infrequent, while when he talked to
people who used it often, his own frequency of use would increase dramatically. In
general, he would use it more frequently than his informants: he explains this with the
fact that he was younger than them, and the glottal stop is seen as a youthful feature in
this part of England. In general, though, there was a very clear tendency for him to
adjust his speech to that of the person he was speaking to.
Bell’s research shows that it is not just a question of who you are talking to, but also
who you think you are talking to: the same person would use more formal
pronunciation while reading the news at a radio station with a middle class audience,
and a more informal pronunciation on a station with a more general audience.
As we say above, the topic you are talking about is also significant: if you discuss a
Shakespearian sonnet, you are likely to use a more formal language than if you discuss
Sunday’s football match. There is, however, research to show that who you are talking
to (or think you are talking to) influences language use more than the topic you are
discussing (pp 232-234). This means that you might use more formal language
discussing football with an elderly professor, than while discussing Shakespeare with a
mate. (“I do not think they played very well” vs. “That sonnet is crap!” )
This may seem to indicate that speakers simply tend to echo the speech forms used
by their audience, but this is a little too simple: CE talks about Accommodation Theory,
and points out that not only the audience itself, but the speaker’s relation to/attitude to
the audience is vital. Speakers echo forms/converge towards their audience when
they want to position themselves as one of the group. However, in other cases, the
speaker will be interested in marking the distance between themselves and the
audience group, and they will then tend to diverge from the language of the audience.
It is not just a matter of how much you want to identify with the audience, but how
much you think the audience would want to identify with you. A person who feels
insecure and uncertain of her own welcome in the group she is talking to, may
sometimes diverge more simply to be on the safe side, to avoid rejection.
There will often be a fine balance of convergence and divergence to be observed by a
speaker: for a teacher, for example, converging/imitating the language patterns of a
class of teenagers too much might simply make him- or herself appear ridiculous and
pathetic. Diverging too much – using very formal and old-fashioned language forms –
might on the other hand make for a poor learning environment. We can imagine that
there would be a point of balance, with enough convergence to mark empathy, but
enough divergence to mark an awareness of the difference between student and
teacher role.
From the opposite perspective, a teenage student who replies to his or her teacher
in exactly the same tone and type of language which the teacher uses while talking to
the class, might be playing a risky game. Very often, the teacher’s language may be
infused with a certain sense of academic authority and expertise, and if a student
adopts the same overall tone and choice of words, the reaction from the teacher (and
from the rest of the class) might be negative. The teacher might find the student
disrespectful – or both teacher and the rest of the class might see the convergence as
an attempt to suck up to the teacher. Using unfiltered street-language might not be a
good idea either, of course: that is too much divergence. There will again be a balance.
We can add that the amount of convergence or divergence acceptable will depend on
your role, as we have said, but also on the person in the role. A recently qualified
teacher, only a few years older than the students, can probably get away with more
convergence than a 60-year-old. Similarly, a mature student might get away with a
more authoritative tone than a very young one. And if you have already demonstrated
that you are very bright and well-informed as a student, you can also allow yourself to
treat the professor more as an equal linguistically.

6. Changes in RP
It might be easy to think that a standard language – not least RP – is very slow to
change. This is not quite true, though. Like all spoken variants, standard
pronunciations change: sometimes quickly, at other times slowly. For the last 100
years or so, we have recordings to prove the point. Some previous changes which
have taken place in RP are:

• Loss of the sounded ”h” in wh-combinations

• Acceptance (in practice) of intrusive -r
• Opening of the vowel /æ/ in e.g. palace or parish (which used to be distinctly
narrower – closer to an /e/): listen to the initial ‘happy’ in the Queen’s Christmas
broadcast from 1957, linked to immediately below!

Link (Links to an external site.)

• Shortening of the vowel /ɔ:/ to /ɒ/ in off, often etc. You can also hear the longer
version in often and lost in the 1957 broadcast above.
• Final ”y” in e.g. ‘happy’, ‘pretty’ or ‘slowly’ becomes /i/ rather than /ɪ / (happy-
tensing)
• The diphthong / ʊə/ in e.g. ”poor” is increasingly replaced with / ɔ:/

Most of these changes are not yet universal in RP, obviously: pronounced /h/ in <wh>
is still in the standard (if not the standard), as is the / ʊə /. There are also many who
object to the intrusive r (though some of the objectors will also use it!) etc.

On-going changes in RP today are for example:

• Loss of diphthong /eə/ in ”air”, ”pair” – it is becoming more like an /e:/

• Spread of the glottal stop /ʔ/ (replacement of e.g. /t/ by glottal stop is not yet
accepted as standard, though)

There is a tendency for /æ/to become more back and more open – close to /ʌ/
Link (Links to an external site.)
This YouTube video is obviously a broad parody of posh young people of today’s
language and cultural attitudes (the mate’s name Tarquin is in itself an obvious signal
of ‘poshness’). The people behind it are not exactly phoneticians, either: in the video,
the sound change is applied in some cases where it would not occur. However, the
character’s pronunciation of ‘gap’ is quite characteristic.

7. Estuary English
Some of the features described above have been seen as typical of a new variant of
English: Estuary English, which takes up some features typical of Cockney (such as the
glottal stop) and uses them in new contexts. This is seen as typical of South-East
England/ the London region, but some features of it may be spreading.
The difference between Estuary English and “young” RP will be fluid: EE is seen as an
accent rooted in the lower middle and working class, but some of its features seem to
be spreading to the upper middle class youth.

Some typical features of estuary English are:

• /t/ in the middle or at the end of a word is often replaced with a glottal stop, as in
<butter> / bʌʔə /, <what>/ wɒʔ/

• /dʒ/ and /tʃ/ often replace the consonant clusters [dj] and [tj], e.g. in like <duke>
and <tulip>, so they begin with the same sound as in <jukebox> and <chew lip>

• /ʊ/, /o/ or /w/ can replace the dark /l/ in final position or before a consonant, so that
<milk bottle> becomes something like /mɪok bɒʔo/ or /mɪwk bɒʔw/. /l/ vocalisation
is also a development that can be observed among some younger RP-speakers.
• Another feature from Cockney is so-called th-fronting, where the <th>-sounds /θ/
and /ð/ tend to be replaced by /f/ and /v/: <north> / nɔːf/; <bother> / bɒvə /

Samples of old-fashioned and modern RP:

Link (Links to an external site.)
This first clip represents a relatively traditional RP-pronunciation, but also contains the
speaker's (very good) imitation of really old-fashioned RP. Note the tendency to
elongated /ɒ/ in the speaker's own pronunciation of 'aristocracy', and the lack of
happy-tensing in his imitation of the older speaker's pronunciation of 'carry on'
(definitely closer to /kærɪ/ than to /kæri/).
Link (Links to an external site.)
This second file represents a more recent London RP, with estuary influence. There is a
detailed description of this file (and also a transcription, but since this is a phonetic
transcription rather than a phonemic one, this might look somewhat unfamiliar and be
difficult to follow). This is not at all a broad estuary accent (/dj/ in 'duke' and /tj/ in
'tune' are for example preserved), but we can hear replacement of /t/ by glottal stop in
'superb private practice', and monophthongisation of /eə/. A striking feature in this
recording is that the vowel /e/ as in 'dress' has a more open (and slightly further back)
realisation - compared to the Queen's 1950s pronunciation, the movement of this
vowel is very big indeed!
Video file about some recent tendencies in RP