THE people at the Collins Dictionary have revealed their words of the year. They include nonbinary, rewilding, and influencer, and they’re all perfectly fine as far as they go.

But I’m not sure any of those words is going to get us through the next four weeks of the election campaign. Too much is changing. We need new words to describe a new world. So, I’ve invented some. You can start using them right away. There’s no need to thank me.

Campaigndemonium (noun): the disorder and chaos into which an election campaign inevitably descends.

This is a useful word to describe the moment a bunch of politicians think that they have employed a super-clever political strategist who’s going to win them the election, but then realise they have actually employed Laurel and Hardy to get a piano up a flight of stairs.

A classic case of campaigndemonium happened in the 2017 general election when Theresa May was told to keep saying “strong and stable”, like a sat-nav stuck in a ditch, even when the campaign was anything but. And it’s happened again this time round with a 2019 Tory campaign that’s already done a belly flop. Campaigndemonium is a perfect way to describe it, but you might also like to use the words “schadenfreude”, “serves them right” and “ha ha ha”.

Spledge (verb): to make a solemn pledge about referendums that no one believes.

This one is probably best explained by giving you examples. Alex Salmond on the 2014 referendum: This is a once-in-a-generation opportunity. Jeremy Corbyn on a second EU referendum: The best way to get Brexit sorted is to give the people the final say in a public vote. And, most spledgy of all, Nicola Sturgeon the other day on a second Scottish vote: It is my intention to have a referendum next year.

All of these are examples of spledging and in case you want to know how to use the word in everyday conversation, here is an example. Person 1: “I see Nicola Sturgeon has spledged to hold a second independence referendum in the latter part of 2020.” Person 2: “Really? Imagine the campaigndemonium that will cause.”

Getitdoner (noun): a person who believes we should just Get It Done.

This is normally used in the context of Brexit, i.e. “we should stop faffing about over leaving the EU and just Get It Done”. But it can also be used in other situations too. If you find yourself at the edge of a cliff and you’re worried you might slip, just Get It Done and jump. Want to hammer a nail into your hand? Get It Done. Want to see what it’s like to set your hair on fire? Get It Done. Want to see what’s it like to leave an economic union with our neighbours that’s in the best interests of the UK and all its citizens? Get It Done!

Naepology (noun): an apology that isn’t really an apology.

First, Jacob Rees-Mogg apologised for appearing to suggest the victims of the Grenfell Tower fire lacked common sense. Then Tory MP Andrew Bridgen apologised for suggesting Mr Rees-Mogg shouldn’t have apologised. Then the Conservative party chairman James Cleverly apologised for Mr Bridgen having to apologise for defending Mr Rees-Mogg after he apologised. But all of them were naepologies: non-apologies, apologies designed to get you out of a tricky situation. No one’s buying it. Sorry.

Jostility (noun): the hostile reaction some people have to the leader of the LibDems Jo Swinson.

There are lots of reasons to like Jo Swinson. She’s a Remainer. She could be the country’s next Prime Minister. And she was the one who stopped John Nicolson being the MP for East Dunbartonshire. But some people appear to have a problem with her. They feel jostility.

My advice is: check your prejudice. Would you feel the same antipathy to Jo Swinson if she was a man? Or if she wasn’t middle class and went to a nice school and had a successful career in politics? Snobbery is often upside down in Scotland and nowhere is it more obvious than in politics.

Splarge (verb): to make a commitment just before a general election to spend large amounts of public money.

If you don’t know what splarge is, look at the way the politicians have been behaving this week. The Tories said they would spend £20bn on hospitals and schools. £20bn? Pah! Labour said they would spend £150bn on repairing the country’s social fabric. £150bn? That’s nothing! The Tories promised £250squillion on gold taps for everyone. And so on. They are splurging lots of public money. They are splarging. The problem? Voters can see perfectly well what’s going on. They know that it’s all very similar to spledging. We know politicians make promises; we are less likely than ever to believe them.