I HAVE become deeply suspicious of the increased use of the word “grievance” in the media and invite readers to keep a beady eye open for its slippery usage. Tory politicians, and those columnists most virulently opposed to Scottish self-governance, have been using the word grievance more frequently of late, and it is clear that they are manipulating the meaning of the word to bring democracy into disrepute.

Language is volatile, I accept that, but keep your eyes and ears open for the way grievance is used in print and broadcasting.

READ MORE: Why we shouldn't be fooled into thinking we can escape the wave of Brexit chaos

I am acutely aware of etymology and the capacity of words to shift their meaning over time, that is not my point. We have lived through an era where the word “gay” has moved from meaning light-hearted or care-free to meaning proudly homosexual.

The word “polis” was once synonymous with Greek city-states now it’s officers of the law who huckle you on a Friday night. And to confuse things even further, the huckleberry is the state fruit of Idaho but to be huckled is to be removed forcibly, usually from licensed premises.

Context plays an important part too. In the control rooms at Nasa a “rocket” means a projectile about to enter the galaxy, in Scotland it is roughly the same as a zoomer, a roaster or a tube.

Sub-cultures are among the biggest disrupters of language. I grew up in the northern soul scene where a “div” was someone who did not listen to rare soul music – the term had evolved from the word divider, a lowly paid job in packing factories, where the “div” repetitively packed the dividers in a cardboard box.

Language is rarely neutral. It is commonplace to see independence supporters described as separatists or nationalists, when in fact many are democrats, socialists, feminists, liberals and republicans. But the word nationalist is a hugely convenient catch-all, carrying as it often does, the implied baggage of dark histories. It is the preferred word of the media precisely because it can both distract and stigmatise.

But before I get stuck into the Tories and their abuse of the word grievance, let me introduce you to one final piece of urban etymology – the term “big willie”. In neighbourhoods such as Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn, a “big willie” is a street gangster who shows off his wealth with medallions, bespoke trainers and expensive designer labels.

The National:

In Scotland it means either a protruding penis or, if you want a quainter explanation, it’s a man whose first name is William and who is visibly taller than his mate, wee Shug.

We live in days of quixotic language. Since the first independence referendum in 2014, the word grievance has entered the linguistic artillery of Unionism and is used frequently to delegitimise genuine democratic debate and to marginalise the case for change.

READ MORE: Keith Brown: Seeking a better Brexit will help us win friends and influence

During scrutiny of the European Union (Withdrawal) Bill, a key plank of the chaotic Brexit legislation, Lord Lang of Monkton complained that the SNP “would make a grievance out of a ray of sunshine”.

Lord Lang – you couldn’t mark his neck with a blowtorch. Here is man roundly rejected by the Scottish electorate sounding-off from a position of unelected privilege in the House of Lords, whilst criticising a campaign to defend devolved powers.

Elsewhere, Defra Secretary Michael Gove has called the Scottish Government “grievance-mongering separatists” after the SNP accused Westminster of resetting £200 million worth of money from Scottish farmers.

And what of that elusive changeling Ruth Davidson? In the brief and transient period when she advocated remaining in the European Union, she vowed to lead a crusade against Brexit, then suddenly distancing herself from the vast majority of Scottish citizens, she claimed Holyrood was “making Scottish voters weary of grievance politics”. In each of these examples the word grievance is being used as an ideological affront.

The aim is to undermine legitimate opposition, especially where Scottish politics diverge from the Westminster consensus.

I am not prone to journalistic conspiracy but we live in a newspaper landscape stacked against change and in that climate words can mutate in dastardly ways. The abuse of the word grievance in modern political media is part of a deliberate policy of marginalising Scotland and its people, by portraying their complaints as contrived, superficial or baseless.

A RECENT edition of the Daily Mail described Nicola Sturgeon as a “grudge and grievance” First Minister because she resisted tax redu-ctions for high earners, an entirely credible fiscal strategy ... unless of course you are the owners of the Daily Mail.

The National:

Last week, the First Minister opened a new trauma centre at Ninewells in Dundee, visited the Scottish Adoption services and spoke out against selling arms to Saudi Arabia.

By what conjuring trick has improved emergency care in the NHS, more caring adoption services and an ethical foreign policy become the stuff of grievance? It is the mainstream of politics and if it’s not then it should be. Thus far in my campaign against the media’s abuse of the word grievance I have noted the word being used to dismiss questions about the GERS figures, Scotland’s contribution to the UK through whisky duty and oil revenues, the repatriation of powers during Brexit, the renewal of Trident, the deportation of immigrants and asylum seekers, and the systematic attacks on the support offered to disabled Scots.

Grievance in its truest meaning is to raise complaints or objections to unfair treatment or injustice – the very reason that MPs exist under a democracy.

Why would any media organisation or indeed any political party seek to abuse the founding principles of democracy by sneering at one of its underlying principles? The answer – to make opposition seem unreasonable.

If Scotland’s elected representatives are to be framed so negatively, it undermines the very basis of constituency representation and begs the question why we would want to send representatives to Westminster.

If raising legitimate questions of governance or legislation is so inconvenient, and to be so easily dismissed, then why bother? Why not build a chamber at home, where all of the very real grievances in life can be thrashed out to find better solutions?

Grievance is a word that deserves some protection in our media. Like a goat chewing the cud in Islay, it is vulnerable to torrid abuse. Grievance is the by-product of unfairness in a society and should not become a snidely synonym for baseless complaint.

I want a government at home and in London that can be truly tested and held to account, not one that can be haughtily dismissed by linguistic sleight of hand.

I accept that the meaning of words can shift over time. There are two very resonant examples staring us in the face.

The political panjandrums that are currently trying to rewrite the definition of grievance have already trashed the meaning of “strong” and “stable”, exposing those once solid and immutable words to ridicule and parody.

To her credit, Theresa May has achieved a remarkable etymological feat, taking two commonly used words and reducing them to the opposite of their original dictionary definitions. Strong and stable now means weak and slippery.

I sense a move afoot to make the word grievance give up its meaning too and we should call it out wherever we see the word being abused.

So come on you sweaty grievance monkeys, you have nothing to lose but your subsidies.

The final book in Stuart Cosgrove’s Soul Trilogy, Harlem 69: The Future Of Soul is published by Polygon