“Losing Track of Language”
Upon reading my last post, a good friend of mine pointed out my use of the pronoun “he” while referring to presidential candidates in general. At first, I didn’t think too much of the complaint. I understood the nature of her annoyance with it, now that there is, in fact, a viable female candidate. But I didn’t think that my omission of an ”s” could really be harmful. After all, in my other writing, when I speak in the abstract or in a neuter manner, I simply choose either “he” or “she” and stick with it for the remainder of the piece. I do have to confess that I probably use ”he” more, but I believe this is due to a precedent that has been set in my mind from reading other authors’ works. There seems to be a general tendency toward he, with the understanding that women are included as well.
So I wasn’t struck with a sense of having done any harm until I did a double take at her message. “It comes off as sexist, and I know you’re not sexist.” Oh boy … I mean, oh girl … I mean, I don’t know what I mean now.
When writing for other people to read, the concern is not about what is proper or grammatically correct. Rather, the concern should be centered around how a message is conveyed. How will another person read this? After all, what is language but a placeholder for understanding one another, a means of communicating real thoughts through otherwise empty sounds and script? If the words are not doing their job of effectively evoking the same thoughts in the reader that are evoked in the writer, then we need to find new words.
In Iris Murdoch’s novel Under the Net, two of the main characters have a discussion about the function of language, and its accuracy and efficiency in its purposes. One of the two characters, Hugo Belfounder, says about conveying an idea, “The language just won’t let you present it as it really was.” He believes that language betrays our original thoughts, and when jokingly asked if one shouldn’t speak at all, Hugo replies seriously, “I think perhaps one oughtn’t to.”
I do not share Hugo’s deep cynicism with regard to verbal interaction, but his point makes me think a bit. While I still believe that language can act as an effective means of communication, and I don’t by any means think we should outlaw speaking to one another, perhaps we should be careful about what we say. And I don’t mean trying to be sensitive or not hurt others’ feelings. I mean we should take into thorough consideration how our message, once encrypted in the hieroglyphics of language, will be decoded when it reaches its target. If I come across as sexist by using “he,” then, barring Hugo’s idea that language itself is inherently defective, there is either a problem with my encryption or a problem with the reader’s decryption. And as my mother’s first boss drilled into her head, and by proxy, into mine, the customer is always right.
Or is she? Writing or verbally expressing one’s thoughts requires an understanding of one’s audience, but so, too, does being an audience member require an understanding of the writer or speaker. Here we have the essence of communication: understanding. Hugo thinks language is useless because it doesn’t promote a full understanding of another’s ideas or thoughts; rather, it skews them. Oppositely, I think that language is useful because it is the best tool we have for transcending our own minds and making the vital link with another human being. It’s not perfect, but neither are we. To be cliche for a moment, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. And to try to make communication perfect while we are imperfect really only strengthens one link. There will be imperfections always, but the sport of it comes in approaching the unattainable limit, to see what phrases or images we can conjure that will evoke the same feeling in another person.
Now onto the politics of all this.
First, the heuristics of “he.” The possibility that we will have a female President a year and a few days from now has, for the first time, a very high probability. To say “he” when I mean “he or she” is simply a shortcut, albeit a poorly timed one. I do not mean to detract from Hillary Clinton or the possibility that she may win the election. The fact that I have to clarify my intentions points to an oversight on my part when choosing which pronoun to use.
Second, the implications of what we’ve said in the grander political world. The purpose of a candidate’s run for office is to convince the voters that he or she will be the best choice in a field of options. This requires communicating with the voters, which in turn, as we have discovered, requires understanding the voters. But it also requires the voters to understand the candidates. And here, upon the principles of understanding, we find the essence of communication, and the key to being a successful candidate. Let’s analyze:
In Iowa, Barack Obama displayed an understanding of the people’s desire for change, unity, and forward progress. He was rewarded, even if his promises will be difficult or impossible to follow through. His message was one that demonstrated an empathetic relationship between Obama and the voters. Likewise, when Clinton changed her image in New Hampshire, she tried for a more understanding candidate, one who would listen and understand the voters. Again, she was rewarded. Let’s look at John Edwards for a moment. He shows that he understands the people “without a voice” in the United States. He is perhaps the most empathetic seeming of all the Democratic candidates. Unfortunately, the people whom Edwards understands and so appeals to are the voiceless, as he has said. This means those with no organization, no powerful lobbyists, no money, and no influence. Hence Edwards’ clear third place. Sadly, it seems that despite his message of sympathy, he is unelectable because he doesn’t try to connect with the voiced members of America as well.
On the Republican side, John McCain’s “straight talk” shows he understands the voters’ desire to avoid empty promises, enticing as they may be, and hear the plain truth. This message is paying off for him. Mitt Romney’s hair and his seeming plasticity make many voters unsure of whether he could really understand them the way they want a President to do. He’s outspent the other candidates by far, but it seems to have only ensured a that he’s not totally lost in the Republican shuffle, although his message seems to have resounded fairly well in Michigan, with 3% of the Republican vote counted thus far. Mike Huckabee, on the other hand, has shown a remarkable connection to the religious right, despite his more centrist fiscal approach. Rudy Giuliani has shown that he understands Floridians, but that will not be enough, and it might not even be enough in Florida, as many of the voters have turned to McCain. All these results stem from a perceived understanding between the candidates and voters.
This all may seem fairly intuitive, but it is easy to underestimate the importance of understanding, in communication or in politics. Language is nothing without connection, as we have shown. Similarly, promises and policies are nothing without a connection between candidates and voters. It’s not about words; it’s about what’s behind them, the meaning they possess, the fire they instill, the spirit they carry. Amy Clampitt, in my opinion one of the most underappreciated poets of the twentieth century, wrote this in her poem “Losing Track of Language” to pull back the facade of language and show the depth of meaning behind it:
The train leaps toward Italy; words fall away
through the dark into the dark bedroom
of everything left behind, the unendingness
of things lost track of—of who, of where—
where I’m losing track of language.
So let us be careful which words we choose and how we use them. Because each is a tool that can open — or close — the pathways between us and those around us. They are not ideas themselves; rather, they are gateways to the ideas that make up the common understanding of all human beings, portals to a realm of transcendence, where our thoughts can exist outside our minds. Words represent a power beyond any weapon or destructive force; they are the ultimate constructive force. Use them wisely.
