Taken literally, Donald Trump’s latest thoughts about the world, as retailed to the British politician Michael Gove, are terrifying for Europe, the EU and Nato. But considered dispassionately, his comments are the most recent example of Trump-speak, a loose, untutored language form that politicians and diplomats must now quickly learn to decipher.

As has by now been well established, Trump-speak should be taken seriously, but not literally. Large pinches of salt, interspersed with reality checks and deep breaths, are required. The hasty, overly defensive reaction on Monday of Germany’s deputy chancellor, Sigmar Gabriel, to Trump’s suggestion the EU could disintegrate is not the way to go. Trump could and probably will say the exact opposite tomorrow.

Trump-speak is typically off the cuff, unconsidered, contradictory, strongly expressed and essentially transitory. It mixes long-held beliefs and prejudices with barely grasped facts and dawning realities. It’s like a bloke talking loudly in the pub who “just read this stuff in the paper”.

So, for example, Trump revealed to Gove that he has discovered matters were not going well in Afghanistan. “I have just looked at something,” he said. “Oh, I should not show you it at all, because it’s secret – but I have just taken a look at Afghanistan ... And you ask yourself, ‘What’s going on there?’” Well, yes actually, you do.

Trump-speak is a thought-stream, not a logical or rational process. It blithely blunders into sensitive issues. It wings it, blurts and stumbles. It makes stuff up as it goes along. And it typically lacks solid conclusions, leading interlocutors nowhere. The crucial thing about Trump-speak is that it is rarely his last word.

Weighing Trump-speak for subtle diplomatic nuances, calculated hints and disguised policy shifts is a mug’s game. Thus Gove’s gleeful declaration that Trump had bolstered Theresa May by promising a fast-track, post-Brexit trade deal with the US looks like delusional over-interpretation.

This is the same Trump who has failed so far to fix a date to meet Britain’s prime minister but who found time for Gove, sacked by May, and Ukip’s Nigel Farage. Trump says he’s a “big fan” of the UK. But his Scottish golf course aside, Britain’s interests barely register on his radar.

The Chinese have a similar interpretation problem. They find Trump-speak on Taiwan to be deeply troubling. State media are talking angrily about nuclear war. On Monday, Beijing said it would “take the gloves off” if Trump persisted with his heretical ideas.

But the Chinese are misreading the subject. To the extent that Trump has considered the matter at all, he appears to view Taiwan in the context of “unfair” US-China trade. Despite asserting his right to do so, he did not meet Taiwan’s president when she transited the US last week. He could be plotting recognition of an independent Taiwan. But probably not.

Likewise on Iran, Trump says Barack Obama cut a “terrible” nuclear deal in 2015. His statements have provoked intense speculation in Tehran about malign US intentions and defiant, pre-emptive warnings by Iranian leaders. Their mistake is to take him at his Twitter word. What seems to concern Trump most is not Israel’s future security. It’s the money the US repaid to Tehran as part of the deal.

In Trump-speak, Nato is both “obsolete” and “important”. US and Russian nuclear arsenals must be “reduced substantially”, although he has previously demanded a large US expansion. Angela Merkel, Germany’s chancellor, is simultaneously “fantastic” and “catastrophic”.

Trump told Gove he was undecided about who he would support in Germany’s September federal election – raising the scandalising possibility that he might publicly take sides. And if in Germany, why not in France? Was Marine Le Pen, the Front National’s presidential candidate, simply taking coffee at Trump Tower last week? Or was Trump conspiring with her? In the ambiguous world of Trump-speak, anything is possible, nothing is certain.

Trump-speak says, repeatedly, that the US embassy in Israel will definitely move to Jerusalem until, suddenly this week, it is not up for discussion. It says the prospect of North Korean nuclear missiles threatening the US mainland is “not going to happen”. Kim Jong-un, North Korea’s paranoid dictator, thinks it will. So what next? Trump-speak is silent.

On Iraq, Trump is consistent but clueless. The 2003 invasion was the worst ever decision in history. US policy, he said, was akin to “throwing rocks into a beehive”. On Syria, Trump-speak is all over the place. The president-elect must have had a briefing, because he now favours “security zones” – presumably, the safe havens plan favoured by Hillary Clinton.

It was “terrible” to shoot old ladies in Aleppo, Trump said – on that, all can agree. But Trump says he “trusts” the shooter, Vladimir Putin, and looks forward to doing “great things” with Russia. What this may mean is anybody’s guess, although the Russian president probably has his own ideas. A Nato pullback in eastern Europe for starters.

Trump-speak is whatever Trump believes US policy should be at any given moment. This is not necessarily how policy is or how it will be. Trump-speak is the exact opposite of George Orwell’s newspeak, which was all about thought control and limiting alternative ideas and choices. It is thus essentially chaotic.

Trump-speak is more akin to doublespeak. Working out what the next US president really thinks, when he often appears not to know himself, is going to be a full-time job.