What I am arguing is that we must abandon this idea that strong language is somehow ‘plain’ and closer to truth and therefore justified in all circumstances. This is not only indefensible but it functions in many cases as an excuse to say whatever we like, whenever we like, Trump-style. Language is always loaded. So use your linguistic weapons wisely.
Increasingly, I’m encountering articles written by Christians deploring the rise in ‘PC language,’ some referring to it as a form of ‘coddling.’ Recently, Karen Swallow Prior’s article encouraging Christians to be careful about inflammatory language on explosive issues like abortion attracted a great deal of attention from the online Christian community. One comment I saw repeatedly in various places, speaking about abortion as murder, was some version of, ‘Can’t we just call something what it is?’ Joel McDurmon sums up a sentiment many have expressed, writing,
Those who speak the truth must tell what is right . . . not engage in watered-down deceits to make the truth more palatable to sin or those who love sin. Those who lie in such a way are involved in an abomination to the Lord.
As a linguist, my mouth falls open when I read such things. But I will come back to that in a moment and consider what I will call strong language. People benefit from using language to speak about an issue in a way that cuts to its heart, consistent with their worldview. When someone refers to a baby in the womb as ’tissue,’ for example, Christians, myself included, exercise our right to reject such language as inconsistent with our worldview of the Bible, specifically with passages like Psalm 139.
And so I find myself agreeing with these sorts of comments to a large extent, particularly when it comes to talking about issues affecting vulnerable members of society. For example, can we agree that when a husband requires his wife to have sex over her objections or any other form of lack of consent, that is rape? Surely that is ‘calling something what it is.’ And when someone berates his or her spouse in a pattern that spans weeks or even years, manipulating, insulting, using any number of other similar abuse types, can we agree to call that psychological violence? And when an adult violates a child sexually, can we do away with phrases like ‘fiddled with a child’ and ‘did the unspeakable to that child?’ Paedophilia. Rape of a child. Isn’t that what that is? A church leader asks a young girl to lean up and give him a kiss, and when she does so, he moves his face so she kisses his lips. It was just an innocent joke, he says! Her ability to describe that action by how it made her feel (sexual assault) is the power of language to impose a different meaning, to defy the order of her abuser. So yes. Let’s be frank in our protection of the vulnerable. Absolutely. Language is indeed a powerful way to defy attempts by oppressors to downplay their despicable actions.
However, I take issue with this notion of ‘plain language,’ which I believe translates to pure, free of pollution. On one side, we have Karen Swallow Prior arguing that
The purpose of language, its God-given raison-d’être, is to reveal truth, eternal and unfailing. It needs not the props of exaggeration or distortion of our feeble words. The truth about abortion demands no inflammation or embellishment. It is, rather, the purveyors of abortion who must veil the truth with charms. The hurt abortion causes to women and children and society can be communicated in plain terms.
See what she did there? Her philosophy of language implies that if we dig down enough, we can find some kind of pure language core, untouched by our human frailty. Many of her detractors adopt a similar position, Anne Kennedy arguing in response to Swallow Prior that
I mean, I guess, on the face of it, we might agree that language has limits. But not the limits of imperfection that come from humanity’s brokenness. The problem today is that one set of people are actively trying to limit the language of another set of people… The limits of our speech are self imposed.
Kennedy is right here about the battle over language, but her assumption about language is similar to Swallow Prior’s, that if we remove our self-imposed limits, we will uncover a means of speaking truth without embellishment. Kennedy offers the means to do so: ‘The preaching of the Word, using the right words that truly express the reality that we have, is the solution to our problems.’ Notice this is more than a call to preach God’s Word. It is a call to use ‘the right words,’ those of the Old Testament prophets. Kennedy explains, ‘God is able to make his point in a way that is understood. That he uses offensive language to do it is most instructive.’ In her worldview, then, offensive language is what we arrive at, if we remove our self-imposed constraints. This is completely misguided.
There is nothing plain, nothing neutral, about any instance of language, no matter how small. Language is a tool we use to make sense of the world. The very moment we choose a single word, either unconsciously or consciously we reveal what and who we believe to be important and what judgments we place on those people and events. We cannot escape the confines of language. All of the examples I gave at the start are based on genuine cases I am familiar with, and in each one, the individuals involved (all professing Christians) disagreed about the language that should be used to describe the event. Each chose language that suited their position and the person with whom they wanted to align themselves. Take a look at all of the newspaper headlines surrounding a particular event, and you will see how this can play out. Back in November, Christianity Today reported on Naghmeh Abedini’s statements of ‘physical, emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse (through Saeed’s addiction to pornography),’ she had suffered, a reality which the Baptist Press referred to as ‘marital woe.’ Which is the truth here, you ask yourself? Well, it depends on your worldview about abuse in marriage. As Matthew 12:24 notes, ‘For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.’ In short, there is no such thing as plain language. There are only our choices, which reveal our perspective on events and on the world.
Second, the idea that strong language is somehow truer, more ‘right’ than tempered language is disturbing, to say the least. There is perhaps no more apt example of this than Donald Trump’s unguarded mouth, which many have somehow found refreshing, as if his language is somehow closer to God’s truth than that of those who keep watch over their tongues. In an article in Sunday’s New York Times about Donald Trump’s language of division, Michael Kazin, historian at Georgetown, explains that
Such statements and accusations make him seem like a guy who can and will cut through all the b.s. and do what in your heart you know is right — and necessary.
This is a rhetorical strategy that increasing numbers are relying on, including Jerry Falwell, Jr., who recently urged Americans to buy more guns to end attacks by ‘those Muslims.’ After all, the argument goes, ‘Telling it straight isn’t abuse, it’s noble.’ It reminds me of someone I used to work with, who said odious things to others, justifying her unkindness by saying, ‘I’m just calling it like I see it. It’s better than being two-faced.’ The confusion Trump’s fans suffer from is mistaking harshness for clarity and truth.
Many of the ways the term ‘politically correct language’ has been defined and disparaged in conservative discourse suggests that what is socially ‘correct’ is at odds with what is ‘plain’ and what is ‘true.’ For some, unless we speak about sin like the Old Testament prophets, we are not speaking truth. And discussion about it has even suggested that those who depart from ‘plain,’ truthful language risk their eternal salvation. Tony Miano writes, ‘Karen Swallow Prior professes to be a Christian. But it’s clear from her words that her worldview is not Christian.’
What I am saying here is that Christians more than anyone should understand the importance of appropriateness, of context, of choosing our words carefully, whether in private or in public, ‘for the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity’ (James 3:6). As I demonstrated with my examples at the start of this piece, language can be a weapon against oppression. That given, do you go around waving your sword all the time, willy nilly, with no regard for who you stab? Women of color are five times more likely to have an abortion as their white counterparts, reports Zoe Dutton in The Atlantic. I imagine most of us are aware that this is tied to many factors including economics, racism, and other social and historical factors that de-privilege women of color in particular. These factors should influence the language we choose when we talk to women outside abortion clinics. Those of us who simply want to cry ‘murderer’ as if we, like the prophets, are receiving direct revelation from God, would do well to look to the example of Jesus, who saved his strongest language for hypocrites within the church, demonstrating a temperance of language to others he encountered that was marked by asking questions and responding to those who sought him out. Why are so many so quick to dismiss Karen Swallow Prior’s example from John 8:1-11, where Jesus rebukes a crowd prepared to stone an adulterous woman? Certainly, he could have simply cried out, ‘adulterer!’ But instead, he engages her with a question, offers her his forgiveness, and then tells her to sin no more. The Gospels are full of examples where Jesus confronts sinners with compassionate language: the Samaritan woman in John 4, Zaccheus in Luke 19, the woman who anoints Jesus’ feet in Luke 7 (see also Ephesians 14:5, Galatians 6:1, Ephesians 4:29). No, I’m not saying that that means we should never call someone an adulterer. Or a murderer. What I am saying is that we do not necessarily diminish the truth or ignore sin if we choose different language that suits a particular context.
What I am arguing is that we must abandon this idea that strong language is somehow ‘plain’ and closer to truth and therefore justified in all circumstances. This is not only indefensible but it functions in many cases as an excuse to say whatever we like, whenever we like, Trump-style. Language is always loaded. So use your linguistic weapons wisely. Are you talking to or about someone who is vulnerable, who may be a victim of abuse of some kind, who is hurting and alone? Load your words with compassion. Are you speaking to or about someone with a disability? Consider how use of certain words and phrases may alienate them. Reflect not just on what words you are choosing but how you may be heard. On the other hand, are you speaking to someone who behaves as if raping his wife is simply a matter of claiming what is rightly his? Speak with strength. Christians should be the first to recognize the impact that words have on others and to consider the power of language when we open our mouths, whether in the privacy of our own homes or on the social and political stage. It isn’t easy, it isn’t convenient, but it is prudent.
Dr. Valerie Hobbs is Senior Lecturer in Applied Linguistics at the University of Sheffield and Associate Director of the Lydia Center for Women and Families at Greystone Theological Institute.