No matter how eloquent a speaker or savvy a wordsmith you are, you’re absolutely certain to say something redundant from time to time. In fact, “absolutely certain” is a redundant phrase, as are other common expressions such as “added bonus” and “unexpected surprise.” 

Redundancies can get even sneakier with acronyms, shorthand versions of phrases usually made from the first letter of each word. Sometimes people tack on an extra word to an acronym, but that word is already contained within the acronym itself, which makes it redundant. Here’s a look at 10 of the most common redundant acronyms.

“ATM” stands for “automated (or automatic) teller machine,” which means adding the word “machine” is entirely unnecessary. These cash withdrawal devices date back to the 1960s, though it wasn’t until the mid-1970s that the acronym was commonly used. “ATM” appeared in an October 1975 edition of Changing Times personal finance magazine: “An ATM requires a much smaller investment than the construction of a full-fledged branch office.”

When you visit the ATM, you need to input your PIN number to access your account. But “PIN number” is redundant, given that “PIN” stands for “personal identification number.” PINs were invented back in 1966 (corresponding with the ability to access bank accounts through ATMs and telebanking), and one of the earliest printed examples of the term is redundant. A May 1976 copy of the Lincoln Star advised people to “choose your own PIN number when you establish your Money Service account.”

Many digital screens have liquid crystal displays, a technology that was conceived of in the late 1960s. Often this is abbreviated to just “LCD,” though people often tack on an extra “display” at the end, making it redundant. This acronym first appeared in print in a 1973 electronics magazine, as per the Oxford English Dictionary.

A PDF, or portable document format, is a type of computer file that was developed by Adobe to allow documents to be easily viewed across a wide variety of software and operating systems. There’s no need to say “PDF format,” given that “PDF” by itself is perfectly acceptable. However, in 1992, print appearances of “PDF” referred to “portable document files.” By 1996, “files” had switched to “format.”

DC Comics is known for its classic superheroes Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash. But did you know that “DC” stands for “Detective Comics,” which means that “DC Comics” is redundant? Detective Comics began publishing in 1937, and the name was shortened to just “DC” soon after.

“MLB” stands for “Major League Baseball,” so there’s no need to mention the sport as well. The same applies to any other major American sports league, such as the NFL (National Football League), NHL (National Hockey League), NBA (National Basketball Association), or WNBA (Women’s National Basketball Association). In all of these instances, the acronym is more than enough.

“RSVP” is shorthand for the French phrase répondez s’il vous plaît, which translates to “respond, if you please.” Given that knowledge, you’ll understand that saying “RSVP” is enough, and tacking on an extra “please” is unnecessary. The acronym was first used in this context by Londoners around 1825.

Before applying to colleges, high school students usually take the SAT test to determine their educational prowess. But saying “test” might be tarnishing that display, given that “SAT” stands for “Scholastic Aptitude Test.” The SAT started in 1926, though according to the Oxford English Dictionary, printed citations only go as far back as 1961. The exam remains an important part of the college admissions process.

Almost all commercially sold products have a 12-digit barcode on the packaging that can be scanned to bring up the price. This is the UPC (universal product code), so you needn’t refer to it as the “UPC code.” The very first UPC ever scanned was for a pack of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum in 1974 — the same year the acronym appeared in print.

We’re not talking about the rock band — we’re talking about alternating current and direct current, which can be shortened to “AC” and “DC,” respectively (although the rock band did reportedly name itself after the electrical currents, due to their electrifying sound). AC was first discovered in the 1830s, and DC was developed by Thomas Edison in the 1870s. Obviously context is key, because it’s easy to confuse “AC” for “air conditioning” or “DC” for the comic book brand. But despite these potential mix-ups, adding on the word “current” will make both acronyms redundant.

Medical dramas are chock-full of interesting jargon, but one urgent request rises above the rest: “Stat!” This term undoubtedly has an air of urgency — but where did it come from? While it might seem like a modern invention, it traces back to the Latin word statim, meaning “immediately.” Let’s look at how “stat” made a centuries-long journey from ancient Rome to today’s email inboxes and hospital rooms.

Latin was adopted early on for most science and medical fields, and statim conveyed a critical need for action. By 1800, the term was being used in medical contexts in English, and the abbreviation “stat” was recorded in the Medical & Physical Journal, used as an adverb to ensure quick execution. This shorthand was a more efficient way to still signal urgency. 

“Stat” as an adjective is demonstrated in a 1963 medical journal example: “I had just given her the stat dose when I noted she began to look jaundiced.” By this time, the original statim had all but disappeared from use.

Also around the mid-20th century, the term jumped from the pages of medical journals to science fiction novels. In Vonda N. McIntyre’s novel Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982), a character demands, “Get a medic up here! Stat!” (Note that the context is still medical, albeit fictional, signaling an awareness of the word’s origin.) From there, “stat” entered everyday language and is now used to indicate any immediate need — even trivial things such as, “I need a coffee, stat!” 

Whether in the dramatic pauses of a medical drama or the lighthearted urgency of a caffeine craving, this Latin loanword retains its centuries-old power, packing a punch when needed.

The evolution of technology is unrelentingly swift. Generations have witnessed state-of-the-art inventions become obsolete in the blink of an eye. The fax machine, the pager, and the landline, all once revolutionary, have earned their place in the annals of history. Yet email — born in 1971 when engineer Ray Tomlinson sent the very first “ping” — has remarkably endured. This persistent form of communication continues to redefine itself for the digital age, but one enigmatic email feature hasn’t changed for 50 years: the “cc.”

The “cc” field is a familiar sight perched within the recipient line of an email. The purpose is to send a copy of the message to an additional recipient who might need the information, but isn’t integral to the action of the message. Its modern definition traces back to its original usage in the late 19th century, when a duplicate was called a “carbon copy.”

Around the 1870s, long before photocopiers, documents were painstakingly duplicated by hand using carbon paper between two sheets of plain paper. Something written or typed on the top page would be transferred to the bottom piece of paper through the pressure on the carbon (essentially ink). The exact replica was called a “carbon copy.” By the 1920s, the term “carbon copy” had shifted to figuratively describe something that was a near-identical replica, such as “Mark was a carbon copy of his father.” This usage made its way into corporate America in the 1930s, when it was used in business as shorthand to ensure that multiple parties received the same information.

When email emerged in the 1970s, “cc” was quickly adapted, as the jargon was already familiar in professional circles. The concept of the “bcc” (blind carbon copy) soon followed, allowing a sender to conceal recipients entered in the “bcc” field. In the 1980s, the use of “cc” became so prevalent that it evolved into a verb, as in, “I cc’d Amy on that message.”

Even as digital technology seems to be on the cusp of the next big thing,”cc” is here to stay. The anachronism has survived 150 years, evolving from an industrial-era hand-copying tool into an indispensable feature of email etiquette, cementing its place in communication with one simple click.

Sometimes banishment can be a good thing — just look at Napoleon’s exile to Elba or when Pete Best was pushed out of the Beatles. The concept applies to the English language as well, which is rife with words that have overstayed their welcome. Linguists at Michigan’s Lake Superior State University are particularly passionate about the topic, so much so that they’ve released a Banished Words List annually since 1976. This quirky tradition seeks to playfully ban any words, acronyms, or slang for “Mis-Use, Over-use, and General Uselessness.” Let’s take a look at the 2025 contenders for linguistic banishment.

Some “banished” words have been used so frequently that they’ve lost all meaning. This includes “cringe” — the No. 1 entry — as saying it is likely to make anyone within earshot do that exact action. We also have “game changer,” which has been said so often that it’s nothing more than a cliché. “Era” is the third entry on the list, as a certain megastar’s tour encouraged marketers to make everything in the past year an “era.” Next up is “dropped,” which used to be reserved for major album debuts. However, I recently heard someone use it for a new grocery product, so I can confirm it is indeed over. 

The 2025 Banished Words List also includes acronyms and slang, such as “IYKYK.” This translates to “If you know, you know,” and was lambasted for being too cryptic and also unhelpful. Another bit of modern slang to get rid of is “Sorry, not sorry,” a phrase that’s more backhandedly disingenuous than it is sincere. LSSU also recommends doing away with youthful slang such as “Skibidi” (a true nonsense word) and “100%,” the latter of which has been overused in place of more straightforward phrases like “I agree.”

To complement LSSU’s Banished Words List, I have a few other recommendations. Let’s start with “very” — overuse of this term is a sign of lazy writing. English is full of so many descriptive terms, so forgo phrases such as “very happy” and use “ecstatic,” “overjoyed,” “blissful,” or another synonym instead. I’d also like to get rid of the phrase “It is what it is,” as it’s unhelpful and fails to contribute much, if anything, to the conversation.

Obviously none of these words is actually being banished, but it’s worth using this list to analyze your personal vernacular. If you find yourself guilty of falling back on these terms and phrases, try to incorporate some more interesting alternatives in their place.