You know, when talking, it helps, you know, to have something to say

Caroline Kennedy identified Barack Obama as a quantum shift in political potential.

But she has yet to demonstrate understanding, passion, direction, to show what she stands for and what she wants to change and to illustrate all of this with specifics

SHE was the pretty toddler hiding in the well of the president’s desk in the White House. She was the solemn-faced adolescent when her widowed mother married a Greek billionaire. She was the laughing sister of a charismatic magazine editor and dynastic celebrity. She — along with her uncle, Ted Kennedy — was one of the influential factors tipping voters towards Barack Obama in the Presidential campaign. Now, Caroline Kennedy is touted as a possible successor to Hillary Rodham Clinton as Senator for New York.

The logic of this career path is being questioned by some Democrats on the basis that she has no experience justifying her selection and no track record in the down-and-dirty of active politics. That unexpected opposition has been added to by media, which doesn’t like Caroline Kennedy’s selective approach to them. It didn’t help that in a recent interview, she took Hillary Clinton’s habit of saying “you know” to a new height, delivering 30 “you knows” in a little over three minutes.

“You know, I think, really, um, this is sort of a unique moment, both in our, you know, in our country’s history,” she said at one point. “And in, you know, my own life, and, um, you know, we are facing, you know, unbelievable challenges.”

The recurring phrase has had a disproportionate impact on her candidacy, courtesy of the internet’s capacity to replay the clip and capture comments suggesting that, despite DNA and an impressive education, Kennedy may not have the capacity to perform as a senator.

“Caroline has acknowledged that she hasn’t mastered the art of the political sound bite,” was her spokesman’s response to adverse comments. It was an inadequate comment for two reasons. The first is that Ted Kennedy has never been regarded as a good media performer, with commentators describing him as The Wizard of Uhs, and an expectation existed that a representative of what might positively be described as the younger generation of the Kennedy’s might be a tad more fluent. The second is that the “hasn’t mastered the art of the political sound bite” misses the point.

Most people have filler phrases or noises which are a constant in their speech. Barack Obama’s is “uh,” although he uses it to a tiny extent, when compared with Edward Kennedy. The issue with Caroline Kennedy is not that she needs superficial training in the amputation of “you know.” The issue is that she has nothing to say. She — in common with half the world — identified Obama as a quantum shift in political potential. She understands the breadth of his thinking and his capacity to elevate mood among the populace. She likes the generality of his thinking.

But, in her own person, she has yet to demonstrate understanding, passion, direction, to show what she stands for and what she wants to change and to illustrate all of this with specifics. If she can get to that point, then “you know” will naturally fall away and the occurrences of the phrase will be less noticeable, because she’ll be delivering meaning and interest to listeners. Verbal and physical tics, together with the details of the speaker’s dress and appearance, become memorable only when an audience has damn all else to attract its attention. Tina Fey’s winking mimicry of Sarah Palin would never have been successful if Palin had, in her own media appearances, offered anything other than prettiness, great glasses and phrases like “you betcha”.

The first key difference between Palin and Kennedy is that Kennedy demonstrably has a mind. A well-stocked and print-focussed mind. Kennedy has published formidable books on constitutional law and — at the more popular end of the reading market — collected and written the introductions to published editions of her mother’s favourite poems. She can handle a script and present a TV programme. And, of all of the available verbal fillers, “you know” may be irritating, but has no deeper significance, whereas some of the alternatives reveal a great deal about their users.

One of the classic verbal repetitions is “Joke! Joke!” This is used when someone has said something offensive and hasn’t the courage to live with it. The most famous political exemplar was Stalin, who constantly tested out ideas using “Joke! Joke!” as a back door when the idea was rejected.

He did it at the post-war conference of allied leaders in Tehran, where, raising his glass in a toast, he saluted the possibility of executing 50,000 Wehrmacht officers. This made Winston Churchill mad as hell. He got to his feet (always something of an achievement for Churchill, late in any day and at a social function) and said the British people would never “stand for such mass murder,” before walking out, followed by the Soviet leader, who embraced him warmly and claimed to have been joking. (The number of German and German-captured Red Army Officers who died in Soviet hands in the following decade sucked any humour out of the claimed joke). Stalin meant what he had originally said and knew precisely the significance of his words. Most people think they mean what they say but often miss the real significance. The following is just a sampler of frequent current usages and their real meaning:

People who repeatedly say “to be perfectly honest with you” lie like rugs.

People who promise “to cut a long story short” never do.

People who talk about what they’ve learned from life haven’t.

People who use the word “inappropriate” don’t understand the difference between an irritant and an outrage. (Calling a colleague “honey” is inappropriate. Painting the baby green and putting paid to the budgie with a single blow from a cast iron frying pan before running away with the postman can be described the same way, but there’s a qualitative difference between the two).

People who say “with all due respect” have none.

People who describe themselves as “apolitical” are Fine Gael.

People who describe themselves as “vindicated” are Fianna Fáil.

People who — as bosses — describe themselves as “firm, but fair” are manipulative bloody-minded tyrants who make Vlad the Impaler look like Rupert Bear.

People who say “I used to read a lot” didn’t. Ever.

People who say “politicians are all the same” are as unthinking in their prejudice as those who used to say “black people all look alike”.

People who say “I don’t want to sound condescending/patronising/offensive” want the fun of condescending, patronising or offending without paying the fare.

People who, when you answer the phone, ask “can you talk?” mean well.

People who say “you don’t know me” hope you really do and are slightly offended when you don’t. Even if you couldn’t.

People who say, “I have to get my seven-year-old to programme my iPod” date themselves as much as if they wore shoulder pads or a mullet hairstyle.

People who “express regret for any hurt caused” believe they’re apologising. They’re not.

People who say “at the end of the day” or “going forward” are on verbal auotopilot and also should be shot.