Conversational Exhaustion
My personal hero (and a huge favorite here among the No FILTR team) George Carlin used to have a bit about language. I mean yes, he had many many bits about “language” as a whole, but one that always stood out above the rest to me was his shell shock/PTSD bit. Basically, his point was that over time, language gets longer and softer from generation to generation.
After World War 1, troops came home with what was referred to as “shell shock.” Two syllables, to the point, fist pump for emphasis: SHELL SHOCK. We all know what this means; the horrors of war affected the soldiers psyche so much that they would never be the same.
When World War 2 ended, the same symptom/ailment was elongated to four syllables: battle fatigue. Twice as long, half as harsh, yet still describing the same phenomenon. A more polite way to say we sent young men to war, and if they managed to make it home, they were scarred for life. “Maybe it would make them feel better if we said they were just fatigued instead of shocked?” They didn’t get irreparably shaken to their very core… they’re just tired.
Next? The Korean War. We had to figure out a way to soften the blow even more, so we went back to that old tried and true method: just double the length of the how we refer to it, and suddenly it sounds better. He’s not battle fatigued… he suffers from “operational exhaustion.” A whopping 8 syllables. We have now cubed the two syllables of shell shock.
Then what happened? Vietnam. These guys came home real bad. And the same condition was re-named again, to sound even better. This final transformation saw the symptom go from operational exhaustion to “post-traumatic stress disorder” (PTSD for short; even the acronym is more long-winded than “shell shock”). As Carlin puts it, “Still eight syllables, but we’ve added a hyphen! And the pain is completely buried under jargon.”
Carlin’s broader point was this: using longer and more “polite” sounding words wasn’t helping anybody, only serving to water down language and dilute the message. Direct, albeit occasionally shrewd language, should be preferred over grandiose verbiage that actually says little to no more (if not less). As one of my favorite bands/lyricists put it: “I big words quite often in substitution for semantically equivalent words.”
This is why when Brandeis University put out this list of oppressive language to be avoided, I couldn’t help but channel my inner Carlin at some of the suggestions being proposed. I know (at least I try to believe) that the creators of this list mean well, and this is coming from a place of inclusion. That being said… can anyone explain the difference between a “disabled person” and a “person with a disability” to me? They quite literally mean the same exact thing. “Disabled” is an adjective that means having a “disability,” which is a noun. We’ve gone from 5 syllables to 9 and all we’ve added is a preposition and an article. Meanwhile, we’ve subtracted common sense.
Some of my other favorites from the list:
Instead of “everything going on right now,” say “police brutality, protests, BLM, COVID-19.” When referring to everything in general, be as specific as possible!
Instead of “committed suicide” say “killed themselves.” Is it just me or does the latter sound much, much more harsh?
Instead of “survivor” say “person who has experienced” because labeling someone a survivor may make them feel reduced to an experience. Even though survivor has a surprisingly positive connotation?
I’m sure this all sounds very “old man yells at cloud” to a younger demographic, but this stuff matter now. Imagine being chastised publicly for saying “disabled person” instead of “person with a disability”? Imagine having to issue a public apology for moving words around in a sentence because you used them in the wrong order? Imagine losing your job because you said “everything going on” instead of listing all of the anguish and suffering of our time?
Language evolves; it’s the way of the world. I’m by no means clinging to outdated, offensive or brash terms just to be spiteful and go down with a sinking ship. But can we inject a little bit of sense and thoughtfulness into these conversations? People are tired of speaking on egg shells. A word is only as powerful as the intention behind it. These minuscule, verbal culture wars are pushing people further apart and drawing attention away from real issues… like people who still say “retarded.”
