10 British phrases that are officially going ‘extinct’ in 2026

Editors, lexicographers and data people who watch usage curves are quietly warning that, by 2026, a set of once-familiar phrases will be labelled “archaic” more often than not — practically “extinct” for everyday conversation.

On a rain-streaked night bus through Holloway, I heard two teenagers plan a meet-up with the frictionless rhythm of 2020s slang — low-key, no stress, ping me, DM — while a man in a wax jacket stood to get off and called “cheerio” to the driver. The kids half-smiled, unsure if it was a joke, then went back to their screens. A few stops later, my phone flashed a group chat where my aunt had typed “I’ll give you a bell,” and the youngest cousin replied with a bell emoji and three question marks. We’ve all had that moment where a family phrase lands like a relic. The gap seems small until it isn’t. The deadline is creeping closer.

The quiet fade of home-grown expressions

What’s happening is simple to feel and tricky to measure. British talk is being sanded smooth by streaming, memes and the speed of typing, and that shift favours short, global words over the quirky local ones. A phrase that once signalled warmth on the high street can read as costume on TikTok; that’s the **generation shift** nobody voted for, but everyone lives inside.

Take a classroom in Leeds where a teacher tries to explain phone etiquette with “I’ll give you a bell.” A dozen faces stare back, the meaning half-guessed, the tone filed as “old-fashioned but sweet.” Later, the same pupils will text “I’ll ping you” without thinking twice. Language loyalty dissolves under convenience — not out of disrespect, just pace — and when the room laughs, it’s gentle, like finding a record player in the loft and not knowing how to switch it on.

There’s also the odd, quiet power of tools. Predictive text prefers universal words, search results nudge us to American phrasing, and autocorrect doesn’t know what to do with “tickety-boo.” When a word stops being echoed back to us by machines, we stop seeing it as useful, then we stop reaching for it at all. Language is alive, but it sheds what it doesn’t need. What dictionaries call “obsolete” is usually just what the crowd — and the code — no longer props up.

Ten phrases on the brink — and how to keep them sounding human

There’s a way to keep older phrases in play without sounding like you raided a period drama wardrobe. Use them conversationally, at normal volume, with a clean context clue. “How’s the laptop?” “Tickety-boo now I’ve rebooted it” lands because the sentence carries its own explanation. Pairing a heritage phrase with a modern verb or object makes it feel current, not creaky; that’s a practical antidote to the flattening effect of **digital shorthand**.

Another trick: introduce one at a time, never as a bundle, and watch for the smile rather than the smirk. If a phrase feels class-coded or scolding, park it or reframe it with warmth. “Pull your socks up” can bruise; “Let’s pull our socks up together” feels like a team huddle. Let the listener lead the tone. Soyons honnêtes : personne ne dit “pip pip” tous les jours, sauf pour rire. That’s fine. The aim isn’t purity, it’s keeping shared tools on the shelf, within reach.

“Words don’t die; they retire to the edges. Bring them back for a shift and they remember how to work.”

Here’s the core set many watchers expect to slip into the “archaic” column by 2026 — and a nudge for where they still sing:

• Pip pip (a breezy farewell; playful sign-off in texts)
• Tickety-boo (everything in order; gentle tech or admin wins)
• Cheerio (goodbye; warm in-person partings)
• Spend a penny (go to the loo; family banter, not offices)
• Bob’s your uncle (and there you go; quick fixes, DIY moments)
• The bee’s knees (high praise; arts, food, hospitality)
• I’ll give you a bell (I’ll call you; better in voice than text)
• Chinwag (a chat; invitations to catch-up walks)
• Not on your nelly (definitely not; light refusal among friends)
• Pull your socks up (try harder; only with care and camaraderie)

Used sparingly, they feel like good cutlery, not a museum cabinet — that’s where **class-coded slang** turns back into shared language.

What we stand to lose, and why a comeback is worth the bother

If these phrases vanish from daily talk, we don’t just lose antique words, we lose tiny social tools that carry a grin, a wink, a softening of the edges. “Cheerio” can turn a goodbye into a wave; “chinwag” suggests time, not transaction. Strip them away and speech tightens, efficient and sharp, and there’s less room for small, human pauses. Language sets the furniture in a room; these are the armchairs you sink into because someone saved them from a skip.

There’s also memory stitched inside them. “Spend a penny” isn’t really about coins; it’s about public loos, childhood trips, the geography of British towns, the way money once clinked. When phrases fade, the stories they smuggle fade too, and narratives flatten to punchy captions. That doesn’t make old expressions sacred or compulsory. It makes them worth a seat at the table, especially in the places where British English is still cooked, not microwaved — kitchens, buses, pubs, after-school pavements.

FAQ :

• Are these really “officially” extinct in 2026?“Extinct” is shorthand; what’s likely is a formal shift towards “archaic/rare” labels in dictionaries and style guidance as usage dips.
• Is this just snobbery about slang?No. New slang is brilliant. This is about keeping a few older tools alongside the new ones so we don’t narrow our tone.
• Won’t bringing them back sound fake?Not if you choose the right moment and keep it light. One well-placed “chinwag?” beats a dozen try-hard throwbacks.
• Which regions still use them?You’ll hear pockets everywhere, with “cheerio” and “Bob’s your uncle” lingering longer in parts of the Midlands, the North, and among older speakers.
• What should I teach my kids?Let them lead with modern words, and gift them a few heritage phrases as stories. If they smile and repeat one, it’s found a home.