July 22, 2015 designated driver
(1980’s | bureaucratese?)
A new expression that has stayed put, sober and responsible. “Designated driver” first poked its head out in 1982, says LexisNexis, and its sense has never changed. Metaphorical uses are uncommon, and literal uses not much less so. Oh, a race car pilot may be “designated driver” of a particular car for a particular race, though it’s not clear which part of speech “designated” is in such a case. Now and then a paid driver (bus, ambulette, taxi) winds up being referred to as a designated driver. But the set phrase that we grasp as second nature today is pure eighties. It grew slowly but steadily with the rise of the movement against drunk driving.
Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (soon changed to “Drunk Driving”) was founded in 1980 by actual mothers whose children had been killed in accidents caused by drunk drivers. It has been enormously successful, an example of a do-gooder public-service organization that has won respect (or deference, which is more important) across the political spectrum and changed a nation’s behavior. Plenty of people still drink and drive, but they do it much more cautiously than they did two generations ago. Attitudes have changed, and a multidisciplinary structure has been built to make driving under the influence shameful and criminal. Part of that structure is the designated driver, born (in the U.S., at least) near the beginning of the eighties, worming its way into beer commercials by the end of the decade, by which time all us reprobates had learned the expression. Actually, Congress declared “National Drunk and Drugged Driving Awareness Week” as early as December 1982, and the phrase was part of the proclamation. The first use recorded in LexisNexis (October 27, 1982) is due to St. Louis Cardinals catcher Darrell Porter, who had just won the World Series MVP Award and was known at the time as a player who had completed drug rehabilitation successfully (“drugs” included alcohol, as Porter was careful to point out). “‘I didn’t even drink in high school,’ he said with a smile. ‘I was what you’d call the designated driver.'” I myself was in college during those crucial early years when the new expression was struggling to make its way, and I don’t remember hearing it then, but may have. I do remember “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.”
Porter’s use of the expression is significant, not just as a matter of historical precedence, but in heralding a radical change in the group behavior of young men. Simply put, non-drinkers became extremely popular when the designated driver took its place in the arsenal of defenses against drunk driving. For decades, centuries, teetotalers were objects of scorn and generally avoided (ironically, the old insult “wet,” meaning something like “lame” as we use it today with an extra touch of wimpiness, fit teetotalers nicely). But when you need a designated driver, that’s exactly the guy you want to bring along — he was gonna drink soda all night anyway. (Wise friends repay the designated driver occasionally, perhaps by providing wingman services.)
“Designated” is a bureaucrat’s word, generally used to refer to something named or assigned by legal authority. It was thus a rather odd choice for the new line-up spot created in 1973 by the American League. (The player was assigned to the Designated Hitter position by the manager, so it wasn’t unreasonable. At first, one heard “Designated Pinch Hitter,” but that disappeared quickly, just as well, since it was confusing.) The designated hitter is the most likely — actually the only — forerunner I can think of. The “designated driver” is not named by authority, generally. Someone within the group has to volunteer, or members of the group take turns. More like a nominated driver, at least if being nominated consists of drawing the short straw.