The Moral Case Against Euphemism
Banning words won’t make the world more just, George Packer argued in the April 2023 issue.
I think George Packer overestimates the influence of institutional language, which is meant to be as broad, inoffensive, and inclusive as possible in order to appeal to wide and varied audiences— and, by extension, draw in more donors, shareholders, and investors. No one is insisting that you stop calling yourself a “pregnant woman” if you feel that applies to you—colloquial, everyday language will always be different from professional or institutional language.
There are, however, ongoing, state-backed attempts to censor words and even entire academic disciplines—but Packer neglects those. Compared with the horrifying power of censorship at the legislative level, Packer’s complaints about institutional style guides fall flat.
Christina Tavella
Boston, Mass.
As a civil-rights attorney, I take issue with the kind of performative progressivism at the heart of the equity-language conversation. Equity language often works as a way for progressives to placate their discomfort with their own privilege while not doing anything substantive about it.
But cultural shifts in language aren’t always insidious or performative, and sometimes they can be legitimately benefcial. Packer’s passing mention of gender-inclusive language fails to note that it is both fairly easy to implement and exceedingly meaningful for trans and gender-nonconforming people. I am a cisgender female, but I present more androgynously. When I see pronouns included in people’s email signatures or gender-neutral language (they as opposed to he/she) used in official documents, I feel that I can express myself honestly in my workplace. I’m more engaged, more outgoing, and more passionate when I can be myself. These subtle shifts in language are deeply meaningful to me.
Mackenzie Karbon
Washington, D.C.
GEORGE PACKER REPLIES:
It’s true that institutional equity-language guides are written for narrow audiences, but they aren’t hermetically sealed from the larger culture. They all rely, as I described, on the recommendations of “experts” whose influence extends deep into the mainstream, including media organizations. Their usage spreads because no well-intentioned person wants to be caught on the wrong side of a banned word. Otherwise, unnatural terms like Latinx and justice-involved person would remain the private language of a small priesthood.
The language of gender would have needed an entire article of its own, with a different analysis. Stating pronouns can indeed be more inclusive—except when it’s required, which becomes a new form of exclusion of those who don’t accept the current ideology of gender. I didn’t write about state legislative bans on books and ideas, because that’s also another subject—one that has been much, and deservedly, criticized in The Atlantic and elsewhere. I did conclude my story with a reference to right-wing language orthodoxy, and I hope to expand on it in another story. My purpose in this one was to point out how the spread of a quasi-official, imprecise, euphemistic, jargon-ridden, ever-changing vocabulary in the name of social justice actually makes it harder to see and remedy injustice. Anyone who cares about justice shouldn’t be too quick to change the subject.
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