Paramount: The Global Word That Means Everything, Costs Nothing, and Is Already Sold Out
Paramount Is the New Oxygen—We Just Haven’t Noticed the Price Hike Yet
By L. Marchetti, roving correspondent, currently hiding from four different tax authorities
PARIS—Over croissants that cost more per gram than enriched uranium, the French foreign minister declared climate change “paramount.” Twenty-four hours earlier, the CEO of a South Korean chip conglomerate called uninterrupted neon-pink TikTok streams “paramount to national morale.” Somewhere between Seoul and the Seine, the word quietly achieved the rare bureaucratic status of diplomatic tofu: tasteless, nutrient-free, and capable of absorbing any sauce poured over it.
From Davos to Davao, “paramount” has become the polite way of saying “shut up and agree.” It is the rhetorical equivalent of a velvet rope outside a nightclub—once the bouncer utters it, discussion stops, wallets open, and the smokers shuffle to the back alley. The word carries the gravitas of Latin conjugations without the inconvenience of specificity. After all, if everything is paramount, nothing is, and that is precisely the point.
Consider the ledger. Last quarter, the Pentagon labeled 37 separate objectives “paramount,” including—no joke—improving PowerPoint readability for drone operators. The European Central Bank simultaneously declared price stability paramount while printing euros faster than a Heidelberg press on amphetamines. Meanwhile, FIFA announced that human rights remain paramount right before awarding the 2038 World Cup to an asteroid-mining consortium headquartered in the Caymans. The cognitive dissonance is so pure it could be bottled and sold as a craft gin.
Yet the global addiction continues. NGOs fundraise by branding every threatened beetle as “paramount to planetary survival.” Tech bros pivot from NFTs to AI ethics overnight, tweeting that responsible algorithms are—wait for it—paramount. Even the World Health Organization, bless its Swiss-patented heart, now lists “paramountcy” as a side effect of reading more than three press releases in a single sitting.
Why does the planet keep buying the same word at an inflated linguistic price? Simple: “paramount” is the perfect suitcase for smuggling priorities across borders without customs inspection. It fits equally well in a dictator’s New Year’s speech and an influencer’s eyeliner tutorial. It promises moral elevation without the gym fees. It is the Esperanto of self-importance—everyone nods, no one translates.
And the cost is not merely metaphorical. When every lobbyist on K Street convinces a congressional subcommittee that their subsidy is “paramount,” budgets bloat like a corpse in the Tigris. When every oil sheikh insists that energy security is paramount, glaciers politely file their resignation letters. When every streaming platform claims viewer engagement is paramount, screenwriters discover that royalties are, conversely, negotiable. The word becomes a weaponized credit card: buy now, explain never.
Still, humanity clings to it, because the alternative—ranking priorities honestly—would require admitting that some things are merely important, others actually urgent, and a depressingly large category labeled “nice if the grant comes through.” That kind of triage is uncomfortable. It forces voters, shareholders, and subscribers to confront the tragic finitude of money, time, and polar bears. Better to wrap every agenda in the ermine cloak of paramountcy and hope no one checks the stitching.
So here we are, hurtling around the sun on a molten rock whose inhabitants cannot decide whether oxygen, profit, or retweets are paramount. The UN is preparing a summit to determine which summit is paramount. Ticket prices are, naturally, paramount to attendance. And somewhere in the queue, a junior diplomat rehearses her statement: “The paramountcy of paramountcy itself must be reaffirmed.” She will receive a standing ovation, a commemorative tote bag, and absolutely no follow-up questions.
In the end, perhaps that is the truest international consensus we can muster: that saying something is paramount is paramount. The word keeps the lights on, the missiles in their silos, and the delusion gently humming like a minibar fridge at 3 a.m. Pleasant dreams, dear reader—just remember to set your alarm. The next paramount crisis drops at sunrise, subscription required.
