The idea of forbidden language is offensive in an open society. Fortunately, the resources of language can usually outflank any administration’s clumsy attempts at thought control.
Policy analysts at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta were told of the list of forbidden words at a meeting Thursday with senior CDC officials who oversee the budget, according to an analyst who took part in the 90-minute briefing. The forbidden words are “vulnerable,” “entitlement,” “diversity,” “transgender,” “fetus,” “evidence-based” and “science-based.” --Washington Post, December 15, 2017.
“A Fool’s Errand” is a phrase perfectly suited to the attempts of any bureaucracy to censor the words of their employees. But it’s doubly hard to get one’s head around a diktat coming from this enfeebled executive branch that would try to control language used by one of the nation’s premier federal agencies.
We are lucky to have the Centers for Disease Control and the 15,000 dedicated science and public health professionals it employs. Wikipedia notes that about half of these folks have advanced degrees. Many are the world’s leading authorities on illness and the control of infectious diseases. Whose bright idea was it to try to make certain public health terms forbidden? Perhaps the same kind of neanderthal who might ask a singer to only produce notes on the major scale.
The organizational impulse to ban certain unwelcome ideas is hardly novel. Employees “fronting” for industrial or institutional interests will frequently learn what to say, as well as the lexicon of terms to avoid. But it’s especially insidious when lists of unacceptable terms show up in our civil life, where there should be unfettered public discussion. This is why there is an emerging sense of satisfaction in the release of the new film, The Post. It celebrates the 1971 decision by Katherine Graham and others at the Washington Post to publish a secret government history of the ill-fated Vietnam War. A gag order has already been issued to the New York Times.
Widespread revulsion to the CDC gag order has apparently led to some backtracking on what the policy analysts can say. But these kinds of missives keep coming from all over, including state and federal leaders averting their eyes from subjects like “climate change” or “reproductive rights.” Every instance is a reminder of how hostile the dead hand of censorship can be.
To be sure, in everyday life it makes perfect sense to consider terms appropriate or inappropriate for the settings in which they are used. Editors are still scratching their heads over whether to print or broadcast some of the vulgarities uttered in the 2016 Presidential campaign. But monitoring language for appropriateness is very different than forbidding it in all contexts.
Effective synonyms can save the day. One can only hope cowed agency employees will have the will to use them.
Luckily, the resources of language are far greater than a pathetic list of banned terms proposed by management at the CDC. If “vulnerable” doesn’t work for the administration, how about “exposed,” “insecure,” “defenseless,” or “at risk”? If “entitlement” seems dangerous, how about “privileged,” “given special prerogatives,” “deserving,” “one’s birthright” or “owed to a citizen”? If “evidence-based” or “science-based” seem inexplicably risky to inflict on the public, how about “reasonable,” “rational,” “empirical,” “based on observation and study” or “what has been proven through systematic observation”? Like a star broken field runner, the resources of rhetoric can easily outrun clumsy attempts at thought control. Effective synonyms can save the day. One can only hope cowed agency employees will have the will to use them.
It’s been a burden to go through life having an uncanny resemblance to Cary Grant. The great Hollywood star remains an iconic example of the perfect leading man. You can undoubtedly see the resemblance and imagine the confusion.
I’m on the left.
MeCary Grant
Believe me, it was not easy to be mistaken for the famous movie star.
In his day a lot of guys wanted to be Cary Grant. Even the former Archie Leach said that even he wanted to be the suave persona he portrayed in movies with Katherine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman and others.
Personal Identity is one of the most fragile of our perceptions. Media researchers remind us that the young–especially girls and young women–are endlessly needled by messages that undermine shaky egos. “I’m not attractive enough” is the generic effect of viewing advertising and other elements of popular culture. It is delivered incessantly, sabotaging a person’s birthright for an intact and resilient self image. Even so the Grant example is a reminder that we easily imagine a form of our idealized selves.
Advertising is an interesting case because we usually don’t usually think of it as a vessel for delivering messages of inadequacy. Ads come in the form of ‘good news’ and upbeat reminders. But those dealing with what the industry calls “personal care products” are filled with remedies to trumped up problems created specifically to sell a product. Ads destabilize a young consumer. They beg an individual to worry about problems they might not have known they had: blemishes, hair that is the wrong color, or a body type that deviates from an idealized norm. In fact, film, advertising and the gatekeepers of media content (especially in fashion, dance and television casting )generally prefer “ectomorph” women who straddle the borderlands of the anorexic.
“Body dysmorphia” begins for some males and females during adolescence. This consuming obsession over appearance affects almost 3 in 100. But much larger percentages have issues accepting their physical appearance. This is all made worse by the ironic fact that our general appearance is a relatively fixed part of ourselves, often getting more attention than the thoughts we utter: aspects of ourselves that are within our control.
When we are young, we often assume that what we offer as our physical selves should be enough to secure our place and our status with our peers. It’s one of the vulnerabilities of youth that we regard our lithe bodies as our best calling card. What else do muscled men or pretty young woman need to offer? A racetrack of a mind or verbal facility might only complicate things.
Soon enough our identities must deepen. Who we “are” must be much more than how we look. For many that takes a degree of self-induced emancipation, as in this personal declaration from comedian Margaret Cho:
I fly my flag of self esteem for all those who have been told they were ugly and fat and hurt and shamed and violated and abused for the way they look and told time and time again that they were ‘different’ and therefore unlovable. Come to me and I will tell you and show you how beautiful and loved you are and you will see it and feel it and know it and then look in the mirror and truly believe it.
