8 phrases from the election we'll probably never hear again

Obama, Romney, and some odd moments.

Language is an organic and evolving entity, and like any organism it must constantly shed dead-weight to make room for new growth. The election has claimed several casualties, and a number of phrases are now dead, frozen in time, forever pointing back to 2012. Here's eight of them. RIP:

1. “I believe in an America where millions of Americans believe in an America that’s the America millions of Americans believe in. That’s the America I love.” This well-known phrase will now be forever associated with Romney - who claimed it early in the race for the White House.

2. "I don't want to kill Big Bird; I love Big Bird." Again - Romney has firmly put his stamp on this phrase. People are going to have to find another way to frame their perfectly innocent intentions when found hanging around the back of Muppet Studios with a shotgun and a bag of birdseed.

3."You didn't build that." Can't say this any more. Even if you once watched them try to assemble a flat-packed Ikea coffee table and it's really obvious that they didn't.

4. "Binders full of women." If you literally have binders full of women you will no longer be able to boast about it without calling to mind this moment:

5. "47 per cent." The statistic that can no longer speak its name.

6. “This all dates back to when we were growing up together in Kenya.” If you're ever trying to explain the phenomenon that is Donald Trump, remember that this cracking piece of psychological analysis is the property of Obama. Crediting required.

7. “I'm tired of Bronco Bama and Mitt Romney.” Abigael Evans, four, has made this useful phrase her own:

8. And any phrase, really, that's addressed to an empty chair. We all have to stop doing that now.

"I don't want to kill Big Bird; I love Big Bird." Photograph: Getty Images

Martha Gill writes the weekly Irrational Animals column. You can follow her on Twitter here: @Martha_Gill.

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Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.