Why is 'gaslighting' the word of the year? Maybe this is why

Merriam-Webster, on its website, lists 57 synonyms for "deceive." Fool, trick, mislead, delude, misinform, dupe, con and bamboozle are just some of them.

But it's a new — or new-ish — one that has been putting search engines into overdrive this year.

"Gaslight" is its word of the year for 2022. It may be worth asking why.

Clearly, there must be something useful about it. Some shade of meaning that is not quite covered by lie, cozen and hoodwink.

"He had been gaslighting her for years" ("The Girl on the Train," 2016). "Big Oil is gaslighting the public" (New York representative Carolyn B. Maloney, 2022). "Donald Trump is gaslighting us on the January 6 riot" (CNN, 2021). Search traffic for the word is up 1,740% this year, according to Merriam-Webster.

"Gaslighting," as a verb, started coming into vogue about a dozen years ago. At first, it was used to to describe a certain kind of abusive relationship: "He's gaslighting me." But it quickly acquired a political significance. "Gaslighting America: Why We Love It When Trump Lies to Us," a 2018 political screed, is typical.

No doubt Trump partisans would argue that the author of this book is gaslighting them.

Here's the Merriam-Webster definition: "Psychological manipulation of a person usually over an extended period of time that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator."

Liars tell lies. But gaslighters make victims doubt the truth — even when it's right in front of their nose. "Who are you going to believe, me or your own eyes?" Groucho Marx once said.

The popularity of the word may be new. But the origins of "gaslight" are old. And the phenomenon is older still.

It all goes back to a 1938 play, "Gas Light," by Patrick Hamilton. In it, a diabolical husband tries to convince his fragile wife that she is going insane — all so he can lock her up and gain access to her priceless jewels.

He hides objects, then accuses her of misplacing them. He tells her a letter she read never existed. He fiddles with the gas, and then tells her that she only imagined the lights dimming.

Curtain up

The title "Gas Light" refers to the light in the fixtures. But it had, in the context of the play, another meaning.

"Gaslight melodrama" is an old term — referring to the blood-and-thunder thrillers that were popular in 19th-century theater. "Gas Light" was originally subtitled "A Victorian thriller," and that's what it was meant to be: a deliberate throwback to the kind of play in which ladies swooned and villains had mustaches.

Nostalgia, as much as anything, made the play a hit — first in London, then on Broadway, where, unaccountably retitled "Angel Street" and starring Vincent Price as the wicked husband, it ran for a record 1,295 performances.

There were two movies called "Gaslight": one a 1940 British production (you can catch a rare showing 12:45 a.m. Dec. 8 on TCM), the other a 1944 Hollywood version, which won an Oscar for Ingrid Bergman. That's the one most people know.

So what is the relevance of "Gaslight" today? The clue might lie in that setting: Victorian London.

The 19th century was a time when husbands could exercise a chilling, absolute control over their wives, in a way that's hard to imagine today. The villain of "Gaslight" literally shuts his wife up. He controls what she knows, who she is allowed to see (nobody), and manipulates her perceptions so expertly that she no longer believes her own eyes.

"Gaslight" is about mind games. But it's also about the isolation that makes them possible.

Fresh air

It's only when a policeman finally forces his way in, and corroborates the wife's story, that she is able to trust her own senses. And so comes the famous, final turning of the tables.

"How can a mad woman help her husband to escape?" she says, turning on her husband with savage irony.

"If I were not mad, I could have helped you — if I were not mad, whatever you had done, I could have pitied and protected you! But because I am mad I have hated you, and because I am mad I am rejoicing in my heart — without a shred of pity — without a shred of regret — watching you go with joy in my heart!"

Isolation is what "Gaslight" is all about. And isolation is something we've learned a lot about, these past few years.

The literal kind, for sure. Thanks to COVID, many of us have been stuck in the house, unable to socialize, unable to clear out our mental cobwebs.

But there's also mental isolation. There's the isolation of our algorithms — the "silos" in which our devices have exiled us, feeding us the same viewpoints over and over, without any outside influence. We've shut ourselves in.

If you want to mess with someone's mind, those are ideal conditions. Sandy Hook? Never happened. The 2020 election? Stolen. Who's to say otherwise, if they can't get into your bubble?

In any case, the phenomenon of "gaslighting" is so well known, now, that it hardly needs defining. We've all seen it. When Merriam-Webster announced on Nov. 28 that "gaslighting" was the word of the year, a dozen wags tweeted some variation of the same response.

"No, it's not."