67 and other things that cause confusion
- Patrick Southwell

- Oct 22
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 23
By Pat Southwell:
Unless you’ve been living under a rock you’ll know about the 67 meme. I first heard it from my kids. Then someone mentioned it on a team call. Lo and behold, within a couple of days Radio 4’s PM programme featured it: the final stamp of cultural saturation.
If, however, you do live in the exclusive village of Rockshire-under-Lime, let me tell you all about 67. Firstly, it’s pronounced “six, seven” not “sixty-seven.” It comes from a 2024 song by the rapper Skrilla (no, me neither). He says it’s a meaningless line. Yet over the last few months, spotty ‘erberts have been increasingly yelling it while they weigh invisible bags of flour in their hands.
It’s tempting to dismiss it as mindless, but that misses the point.

Why? Seriously, why?
At first, it’s hard to say. Especially for a middle-aged man who shops in M&S and has the same haircut he first tried out 12 years ago.
But one thing’s for sure. It’s not out of ignorance. It seems to come from a deep, almost spiritual commitment to belonging.
67 is meaningless to those who say it. But more importantly, it’s even more meaningless and bewildering to those who don’t. Roaring it is shorthand for “I belong.” By uttering those two small words, the speaker is claiming, “I get it, and therefore I am part of the gang.” It has no literal meaning, but a colossal figurative one.
It’s the most distilled and perfect example of “in-language.” It performs literally no purpose other than creating a shared experience for those in the know while excluding outsiders. And the outsiders are so desperate to be part of the gang that they start using it too, while not knowing what it’s all about. Like a linguistic virus.
Getting to the point
Which brings me on to the point of this blog. While it’s easy to laugh at pre-teens yelling numbers, the truth is we do the same thing in B2B tech PR.
We use in-language. And whether it has meaning or not, it does nothing to immediately connect with an audience. It actively excludes.
Yet we see B2B tech versions of 67 everywhere. Sure, they differ in respect of having a meaning beyond that of belonging, but it’s often extremely obscure or incredibly vague.
For example, can you hand on heart say you know what hyper-personalisation, unified customer journey orchestration, or ecosystem envelopment mean? Oi, you at the back, stop talking to ChatGPT!
To those not in the know, terms like this are signifiers of exclusion. If you don’t get what they mean, you can’t be part of the gang. It’s insular language that prevents understanding rather than explains succinctly and quickly.
In the world of B2B tech comms, it’s tough to stand up to this type of stuff. Because you’re already in the gang. And you’re telling fellow members to let in the others without the secret passwords.
So, perhaps the lesson of 67 isn’t to ban jargon entirely. It’s to reclaim simplicity as a competitive advantage. To explain the meaning and build bridges between insiders and outsiders. Or to put it another way, between the kids yelling 67 and those still wondering what it means (if there are any left).
Because when everyone understands the language, we stop shouting 67 at each other and start actually getting things done.


