The British and the Americans: two nations divided by a common language.

Once this dichotomy may have been the case, but now no more. In the week that the US has decided (and what a decision) perhaps those of us on this side of the transatlantic divide ought to do a little of our own deciding.

I would like Britain to decide to stop allowing US English to permeate, pervade and pollute British English. (I am acutely aware that the term “British English” has more than a little of the oxymoron about it.)

Now before you hurl accusations of linguistic xenophobia and anti-Americanism, I wish to state categorically that I celebrate the dynamic nature of our beautiful and challenging, august and poetic language. English is a language defined by its sponge-like ability to adopt and adapt words from other tongues. Everyday bons (and not so bons) mots from foreign shores have been happily assimilated and integrated into common English parlance; words such as pyjama, tobacco, assassin, cul-de-sac, Zeitgeist and smörgåsbord . (OK, maybe not smörgåsbord , but you get my point.) Britain's colonial past has meant that the language is studded with global influences. And symbiotically, other languages have had words supplanted by the occasional English word. Having left their Renault Clio at le parking, Nicole and her Papa will pop out for le hamburger at le weekend. They would probably smear the sandwiched meat with le ketchup.

Hindu, Urdu and Punjabi are all smattered with the language of their colonial masters. That English is so widely spoken across the sub-continent and is, in fact, the unifying language, says a very great deal of the cross-pollination of words and linguistic culture. I celebrate this strengthening of language through exchange. This is a very beautiful thing. Furthermore, the language is very much alive to new words, street slang and linguistic innovation. My 15-year-old son would be appalled to know that the slang that so regularly trips off his tongue, words such as “bare” (inferring the superlative), “butters” (which denotes a distinct lack of satisfaction) and “nang” (I have no idea what this word means but I do so enjoy saying it since it embarrasses the life out of my son). No one can argue against the dynamism, the constantly updating nature of our language.

But it seems that when it comes to the relationship between American English and British English it's all very much one-way traffic.

I hear few British English words or constructions infiltrating the citadel of US English. Yet our language is being inundated with Americanisms left, right and center. If I hear another person in a coffee shop ask if they can “get” a skinny double frappuccino with an extra shot, I might suggest that they traverse the counter and mix their own bloody frappuccino. If, however, they would “like” a frappuccino, then they would be perfectly correct to stay on the civilian side of the divide and ask the “barista” to furnish the said frothy coffee drink. And when I'm driving I will never “make” a right turn. Never. Unless, that is, I stop the car and with the aid of a JCB, a power hammer and a handful of traffic cones, I actually form a new bifurcation, thereby actually “making” a right turn. No. I shall continue to take a right. And my ten-year-old daughter and I are locked in a constant battle over a word that erodes the very heart of British English, a word that has divided my family. If I am unwilling to succumb to my daughter's very occasionally unreasonable requests for something or another I am accused of being mean. I don't know about you, but when I was a lad mean was the epithet used to refer to Scrooge or the Scots in general as a nation. (The Scots are obviously a very generous nation, particularly when it comes to offering advice about language being invaded.) But when she means mean she means unkind. I mean, really!

Unkind? Mean does not mean that. I know what mean means and I mean to use mean in the correct context.

Language bends and changes like a river. My primary concern is that we protect the core of British English from the colonial invasion of US English. One only need look at India to witness the reaping of the harvest of Americanisation. Indian urban children learn and speak English via US TV shows and films and now speak English with American accents. The overwhelming majority of them have never set foot outside India, yet America is alive and well in their words. I really like America, but the last thing I would want is for Britain to become the 51st state.

I believe in the frank and fair exchange of ideas, philosophy and words. When the US takes of some our new language on board I'd be a great deal more relaxed about the transplanting of US English into our way of life. The newly elected leader of America, and consequently the Free World, has oft spoken about change. If he is willing to say “Yes We Can” to change, then perhaps he will say “Yes We Can” to US English changing to adopt the odd British English word. Even he might concede that that would be a jolly good show.

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