The Words We Use Matter, To Us and To Society

First published on February 28, 2019

I have seen this truth so many times: that the words we use matter. We need, therefore, to be careful which words we choose. 

I have written before of the power - in making me feel less busy and stressed - of stopping complaining about time. It turns out that starting every email with 'I'm sorry for the delay...' makes me feel guilty and rushed, because, essentially, I subconsciously assume that the words I am using is true.

Try it for yourself. Put yourself on what Gay Hendricks calls a strict diet of not talking about time. 

Or sit and think about something that is coming up that you are apprehensive about: a social engagement perhaps, or a meeting that is in your diary. 

Try saying to yourself a few times, 'I must go that meeting'. Or 'I have to be at that party'. 

What happens in your body? What does it feel like? 

Then try again with 'I choose to go out'. See what that feels like. 

If you're like most people, there's a difference. The words we choose to think and speak create the world we experience, as our brain and body react to those thoughts and that speech. It might be the Reticular Activating System - a part of the brain - filtering for what it thinks is important to you (noticing pregnant women everywhere when we are expecting a baby, or For Sale signs everywhere when we are looking for a house - there aren't more pregnant women or For Sale signs, it's just that your brain shows you them). But it might also be the uncomfortable feeling we feel when we tell ourselves that we don't want to do something; or it might be feeling guilty because we're beginning to believe that we 'should have replied earlier' to an email. 

But language matters to others, too. We have a responsibility to choose our words wisely not just for ourselves, but for society. 

I saw, today, a man on Twitter labeling a British politician a 'fascist'. Now I accept that my contact doesn't like the politician - in these charged times, many might agree with him that the man in question is dislikeable. But this MP is by no rational definition a fascist. 

To suggest he is seems to me a grave disrespect to the victims of fascism, in the 20th century and today. 

Why does this matter? It matters because I know he isn't a fascist, and so does my contact. And so does everyone who reads it. But as a society, something changes when we throw that accusation around, when we are not careful with our language. The meaning of the word changes. Suddenly, when I hear someone accused of being a fascist I am not sure whether they are a full on supporter of the Nazi party, or whether they are a democratically elected Member of Parliament who might have some disagreeable views on Brexit, but doesn't want to exterminate any races or have dictatorial power anywhere.

I don't have time to do due diligence on the exact views of every person who has a label thrown at them. No one does. Instead, like our Reticular Activating System, I shortcut. And in this case one of two things happens - either I (often) wrongly assume someone has far more disagreeable views than they do (that they are a racist, or a fascist, or a homophobe, when the truth is far more nuanced) or I consciously or more likely unconsciously stop trusting accusations of fascism.

And this happens to us all. We become desensitised to those words, as they are thrown around. They cease to have meaning. It means that when a genuinely heinous person arrives in our midst, the words we have to describe them, to call alarm, have been relieved of any notable meaning.

And then, these people find their ways back into public life. And that is the last thing the man on Twitter wants, I'm sure.

So be careful with your words. Be precise. Accuracy matters. Truth matters. To us, and to our society.