Michelle Obama responding to the kidnapping of Nigerian girls in 2014 wikipedia.org
Nearly all Americans can be provoked into political engagement if they suspect their identity interests are threatened by governmental bodies.
These days our public rhetoric includes a lot of angst about slights and insensitivities to individual communities under the big tent of American life. On one hand, many Americans believe other members in the society have become too sensitive to language that only seems to demean or degrade others. The view from this mostly conservative side of the ideological divide sees “political correctness” as “liberal” overreach that verges into censorship. They argue that the once-worthwhile idea of inclusiveness has run amok.
Other communities see these problems as all too real, noting that it’s wrong for outsiders to appropriate another group’s cherished symbols, as when a sports team calls themselves the Redskins. Most social progressives argue that it’s equally a mistake to mislabel or ignore others if the effect is to place a community on the margins of American life, as we’ve seen in recent complaints that Academy Award nominations feature too few Hollywood professionals of color.
Sometimes the offenses committed against groups are blatant and criminal, demanding a response. Police shootings of unarmed suspects and the treatment of women in parts of Africa and elsewhere only hint at what is a long list of justifiable grievances. More subtle are complaints of how affinity groups are named in the media, along with concerns about who gets to tell their stories. Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall street, native American groups, veterans organizations and countless others are tuned to pick up linguistic slights they see as representing deeper animosities. Were the occupiers of Oregon’s Malheur National Wildlife Refuge “felons,” or freedom-loving “militiamen?” What does it mean at Princeton that the name of Woodrow Wilson is attached to one of it’s prestigious schools? Should the former president be known primarily as a “political progressive” or a “racist?” And there is even one American college that is embroiled in a mini-controversy over whether their food court should be permitted to serve “General Tao’s Chicken.” Is the kitchen’s botched attempt to serve a dish with apparent Chinese roots a case of “cultural misappropriation?”
As these questions swirl through the culture it seems that our collective nerve endings have become raw. Americans seem to hear slights from their neighbors rather than empathy. More than a few observers of our national scene wonder if the middle will hold, whether the United States is still sufficiently united to be a functioning culture, let alone a “great society.”
There are no simple answers. Especially on this subject, individual perceptions matter. The charges of “inquistic colonization” or offensive omission are the prerogatives of any wounded party to at least express.
From a communication perspective it is important to note that we are all affected by status issues: those topics in a culture that provoke ordinary citizens to ask if their interests are adequately acknowledge and protected. Politicians sometimes call these hot topics—abortion rights, equal access to good schools and a decent job, respect for religious beliefs, respect for gender differences—the “third rails” of American politics. In a subway the third rail is the train’s power source, carrying upwards of 1500 volts that can instantly fry any human that touches it.
Status issues arise and dominate our public discourse when enough Americans believe their cultural legitimacy is being put at risk by the hostile actions of a political institution.
I find it helpful to remember that a secure place under the umbrella of a state is part of any citizen’s birthright. We expect to have our legitimate interests respected if not honored by others. It is sometimes easier to accept claims of marginalization if we understand this fact. Here’s the point: fears expressed in a rhetoric of anger may lead us to overlook the simple need of every citizen and their tribes to feel acknowledged.
It turns out that we are all poets of the dark side: we can muster an entire string of devil terms to deflate a person, without ever resorting to a dictionary or thesaurus.
We all know the childhood aphorism that “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” It sells itself as a shield against verbal assaults that kids must sometimes endure. And now, it seems, we can include presidential candidates as well. But it’s so wrong. The language of personal attack can be devastating. We are selling language short if we dismiss its power to inflict psychic pain.
Perhaps a third of the ordinary language we use every day includes nouns, verbs and adjectives that can be chosen to praise or blame. I think of myself as a “scholar” and an “educator.” But perhaps to some of my students I’m a “windbag” or a “pedant.” The first two words are of the type known as”God terms,” expressions that not only name, but also judge positively. The second two are “devil terms,” renaming and judging downward. Naming upward with God terms naturally binds us together and suggests a certain amount of empathy. Though we sometimes do it for the wrong reasons, praise is often a small act of grace, as when we describe someone we work with everyday as a “smart” and a “major asset” to the organization.
But it turns out that we are all poets of the dark side: we can muster an entire string of devil terms to deflate a person or their actions without ever resorting to a dictionary or thesaurus. In recent years I’ve witnessed a grandmother thoughtlessly calling her daughter a “bad” mother for seeking a medical solution that would improve a grandchild’s hearing. We’ve also seen a presidential candidate calling a competitor “weak” and “low energy:” a news anchor calling their opposite at a competing network “savage” and “vindictive.” We are supremely equipped to throw the weight of our judgment around with the abandon of a professional wrestler.
This pattern which has always been a part of private communication has increasingly bled into our public life. A New York Times listing of public insults from Donald Trump includes a lot of language about other individuals not typically heard in the remarks of a presidential aspirant: “Hypocrite” (Bill Clinton), “dumb as a rock” (Glenn Beck), “a total embarrassment” (Jeb Bush), “totally incompetent” (Hillary Clinton), “a crude dope” (former Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter), “very stupid” (the current administration), and so on.1 To be sure, the wounded are often quick to respond in kind. And so, as the popular phrase goes, “our rhetoric escalates” or, more accurately, devolves.
Some individuals function so commonly in this mode that it seems apparent that this kind of rhetoric originates from some unmet needs: perhaps a defensive urge to strike first in order to ward off comments about one’s own vulnerabilities. A rapid barrage of judgments seems to represent a line in the sand, a warning of a person’s willingness to strike back. This is obviously the realm of the bully whose vulnerabilities are hidden behind the identity of a rhetorical pugilist. Not only does this political season feature some of these folks as potential political and moral leaders, but most of us have had to learn to cope with this kind verbal aggression in other parts of our lives. And then there are the genuine human horrors portrayed in film saga’s like David Mamet’s Glengarry, Glen Ross (1992) or Armando Iannucci’s In the Loop (2009). As in life, some of the characters’ taste for toxic put-downs turns out to be surprisingly moralizing, helping us learn to cherish relations that show more civility.
The hectoring and intimidation of sharp verbal rebukes is often its own reward for the impaired person who depends on them. In addition, an observation that marks another as a “fool,” or “worthless” offers a shooting gallery that can draw audiences to witness the guilty pleasures of a rhetorical take-down. In the age of the troll these diatribes are issued with the relentless frequency of machine guns emptying out their lethal contents. When writers talk about the “coarser culture” than the one their parents knew, this kind of vituperative rhetoric is often what they mean.
The problem readily suggests its own solution: It is sometimes better so say nothing than to toss out a harsh judgment about another that will hurt more than help. It’s also good to remember that such language is often seen as self-reflexive; many understand it as better describing the source rather than the target.
_____________
1Jasmine Lee and Kevin Quealy, “People, Places and Things Insulted by Donald Trump,” New York Times, January 31, 2016, Week in Review, p. 4.
