Joe Everyman meets Margaret Everywoman at a party.
Joe: Nice to meet you, Margaret
Margaret: Nice to meet you, too. Call me Peggy.
Joe: Okay, Peggy.
One week later: John Doe and Joe Everyman are at a party discussing Margaret Everywoman.
John: Have you met Margaret Everywoman?
Joe: Yes, Peggy seems very nice.
John: Peggy?
Joe: Yes, she prefers Peggy. A lot of Margarets do.
John: Damn political correctness! Damn Margarets! You can’t even speak nowadays without somebody trying to control the words that come out of your mouth! Think they can tell me I can’t call ’em by their own name? How dare they! I’m going to fire off an angry letter to the editor. Peggy my leg!
So-called political correctness is really just politeness, but it’s politeness once removed. If I ask someone I meet at a party not to call me “Junk in the Trunk,” he’s happy to oblige, no matter how visibly junk-filled my trunk. But if a third party tells the same guy that bottom-heavy women don’t like to be called “Junk in the Trunk” (we prefer “Ladies with a Low Center of Gravity”), somehow that makes him feel muzzled, censored, and really, really cranky.
As a result, the anti-political-correctness contingent out-whined the pro-PC types years ago—no small feat, mind you—and have been moaning like harpooned seals ever since. (Yeah, you heard me right: cuddly, furry baby seals with expressive, intelligent eyes.)
So how, in a cultural climate in which there’s no clear line between simple courtesy and a violation of constitutional rights, do you know how to choose your words? How can you be sure to never offend anyone with inadvertently sexist or racist language?
That’s easy: Just don’t speak or write anything ever.
But what if you’re not someone lucky enough to be able to avoid all communication with fellow human beings (lucky schmucks)? How do you manage to never, ever offend anyone with inadvertently sexist or racist language?
You don’t. It’s impossible.
But I have some good news. Though anti-PC thugs and pro-PC hysterics alike can find fodder just about anywhere, they’re really just a tiny minority. Reasonable people—that is, most people—can tell when your heart’s in the right place. A little sensitivity goes a long way. Unless you write something really ignorant or rude, you don’t need to tippy-toe around every word you choose.
The central principle of politeness is simply to put yourself in the other guy’s, woman’s, hermaphrodite’s, or Martian-American’s shoes.
For example, my work sometimes requires me to read television scripts, all of which seem to have the same, very telling quirk. The protagonist might be described as, “Mike: A thirty-something with a hip attitude.” Other main characters might be, “Karen: A great-looking woman in her twenties,” and “Jack: A fortyish card shark.” Then, a little later in the script, another character enters: “Raymond, a black guy in his twenties.”
Retroactively, we’re to assume that all characters are presumed white unless specified otherwise. This is quite understandable to anyone who has a TV. Imagine any of today’s top medical or crime dramas with all the white actors switched for black ones and vice versa and you’ll see that, on TV, “presumed white” is often a safe assumption. But you’ve got to admit that it’s a little insulting to everyone else.
In a lot of other arenas, we see a “presumed male” dynamic at work. If you don’t believe me, ask yourself: When was the last time you caught a fish and said, “She was a fighter”? When was the last time that you were chasing a cockroach and said, “Where did she go?”
Okay, maybe I’m not breaking your heart with how unfair it is that we women aren’t more frequently associated with cockroaches and largemouth bass. But this extends to things like doctors, too, as in, “Who’s your family doctor and is he good?”
It’s human nature to make assumptions based on our own experiences. If you travel in mostly white circles, “a guy” might automatically refer to a white guy, though you might go out of your way to specify another race: “a Hispanic guy.” Innocent enough.
But here’s the rub: Context is everything. The mass-communicated word is heard in a different, much broader context than the individual cultural experience from which it’s spoken or written. Something you say to the Little League team you coach takes on a completely different meaning when it’s broadcast on ESPN.
Context is also altered by the speaker. Consider that if a white person is talking about black people, the pronoun to stand in for “black people” is “them.” But if a black person is talking about black people, the corresponding pronoun is “us.” So when white people complain that there’s an unfair double standard governing how people can talk about race, that’s because they don’t understand the extent to which things like context and speaker change the very meaning of a word—change it to the point where it can actually have opposite meanings: “them” and “us.”
I suggest that, instead of leveling our anger at groups of “others,” we band together by channeling our white-hot rage toward the only group that truly deserves it: grammar snobs. After all, these are the people who keep pounding the language rules that make this already difficult area flat-out impossible.
Consider the following sentences:
The reader can take this advice or he can ignore it.
The reader can take this advice or she can ignore it.
The reader can take this advice or he or she can ignore it.
The reader can take this advice or they can ignore it.
Which one’s right? None of them. They’re all disasters. And, short of completely restructuring the sentence, there’s no good alternative, either. English doesn’t have a neuter pronoun. Choosing the male pronoun is standard but arguably a little sexist. Choosing the female pronoun incurs the wrath of the anti-PC police. Choosing “he or she” gets awkward really, really fast. Choosing the plural pronoun “they” is just grammatically wrong and there are hordes of grammar snobs eagerly awaiting the opportunity to tell you so.
Basically, you’re screwed.
I’d like to predict that, sometime in the next century, “they,” “their,” and “them” will become acceptable as neuter pronouns, but by then the junk in my trunk will be sagging so low that all I’ll care about is finding the ultimate girdle.
While we wait for that glorious day, I suggest you find your own creative mix for dealing with this. Sometimes just recast your sentences. “Readers can take this advice or they can ignore it.” Sometimes reach for the obvious “he.” Sometimes give a nod to the dissed group by using “she.” Sometimes, especially in business correspondence and other formal writing, opt for the most strictly correct “he or she.”
Most important, don’t let a handful of irate blowhards make you feel like you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. It’s not true. Attempts at sensitivity—even fumbled ones—really are appreciated.
If we follow these simple guidelines, perhaps someday someone like me can be judged based on the content of my character and not the contents of my trunk.