dross

American  

[draws, dros] / drɔs, drɒs /

noun

1. waste matter; refuse.

2. Metallurgy. a waste product taken off molten metal during smelting, essentially metallic in character.

3. British. coal of little value.

---

dross British  

/ drɒs /

noun

1. the scum formed, usually by oxidation, on the surfaces of molten metals

2. worthless matter; waste

---

Other Word Forms

• drossiness noun
• drossy adjective

Etymology

Origin of dross

before 1050; Middle English dros ( se ), Old English drōs; cognate with Middle Dutch droes dregs; compare Middle English drōsen, Old English drōsna; cognate with Middle High German truosen husks

Explanation

Things that are a total loss — really worthless or damaging — are dross. That gunk between your teeth that comes out when you floss? You could call that dross. No one wants it, and it's harmful if it stays. While dross is a noun for stuff that's physically left over or useless, like the nonmetallic stuff left when metal gets refined, it's also used for people and forms of art. A really bad movie can be called dross, and a low or despicable person can be dross. Debris, or trash, is another form of dross. "Searching the backyard for unexploded fireworks — the dross of Chinese New Year celebrations — was a tradition for the kids and a safeguard for the dogs."

Example Sentences

All was constant churn and movement; there was considerable dross, but also genuine, spontaneous creativity.

From Salon • Aug. 9, 2025

West Indies moved ahead, Root was asked to bowl some off-spin dross into the pads of Da Silva, who swept three fours and hit a six over long-on.

From BBC • Jul. 20, 2024

He will target the dross that inevitably accumulates in any large firm — the business practices that don’t make sense, the operations that don’t make money, and the workers who don’t make a good fit.

From Washington Post • Oct. 23, 2022

Plenty of good, inexpensive Bordeaux is out there, but those bottles are hard to pick out from the dross.

From New York Times • Oct. 7, 2021

I fancied that a malevolent Rumpelstiltskin crept into my room at night and undid my best work, turning the gold of my efforts into pathetic dross on a wheel perversely spinning backward.

From "The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate" by Jacqueline Kelly