Words and Their Weight
Language is an easy thing to brush aside. Most conversations cost us nothing. We delete text messages and discount conversations with sarcasm and careless phrases like “just kidding” or “no offense”. We are quick to dismiss the word-choice of those who think like us and talk like us and look like us, because surely they meant no harm? Certainly they ought not be held accountable for a slip in professionalism or an off-color remark… They’re just words, are they not?
Could it be that we are quick to pardon the offensive, incorrect, or problematic language of mainstream voices, because we are afraid to be held accountable for our own?
Within the realm of Mormonism, language becomes particularly weighty. In a religion whose most sacred rituals are cemented by verbal language, the words we choose are not without consequence. We are taught this as children in primary classes, reminded of the gravity of taking the Lord’s name in vain. We face our mothers’ disappointment when we first learn to cuss. As students, we toil over research papers and resumes, convinced that wordsmithing is enough to get the grade or land the job. Our relationships and livelihoods are connected to the language we choose, but we are decisively quick to disregard the consequences of our own words when it comes to political and social issues, because so many in our conservative community label “political correctness” as an obstacle to free speech. To them, considering the impact of language is a burden. This article, however, is not explicitly about political correctness. It is about the fallout when objectivity is the only measure for the worth of words.
The United Nations recently published an Instagram post modeled after a newspaper. The headline read,
“WOMAN RAPED AT MAN’S FLAT AFTER 12 GLASSES OF WINE.”
The headline then disappeared, replaced by,
“MAN RAPED WOMAN AT HIS FLAT”
Though both headlines are objectively true, they convey two entirely different narratives. One is devoid of an aggressor and implies that the woman is guilty in part, while the other identifies both perpetrator and victim. The first headline’s language is passive, defining rape as something that happens to someone, not as an act of violence done by one person to another.
Unfortunately, church members and leaders alike use language to misplace blame or to sugarcoat the reality of marginalized groups and victims. For example, Elder Quentin L. Cook made the following comment during the General Conference of October 2018 on the topic of rape,
“It is commendable that nonconsensual immorality has been exposed and denounced. Such nonconsensual immorality is against the laws of God and of society. Those who understand God’s plan should also oppose consensual immorality, which is also a sin.”
By refusing to use the word “rape” or “sexual assault” in the place of “nonconsensual immorality”, Elder Cook robbed rape victims of their place as innocents. The Church again preached victim-blaming by originally choosing Moroni 9:9 as the first scripture verse listed under the Young Women’s Personal Progress value of “Virtue”. The Book of Mormon verse reads, “For behold, many of the daughters of the Lamanites have they taken prisoners; and after depriving them of that which was most dear and precious above all things, which is chastity and virtue--”, effectively equating virtue with virginity and erroneously suggesting that virtue is something that can be taken by another individual via violence or force. After three years of lobbying by various LDS feminist groups and individuals, the verse was removed from the Personal Progress pamphlet. The Church officially teaches in the For the Strength of Youth Pamphlet that “victims of sexual abuse are not guilty of sin and do not need to repent”, but rhetoric such as Elder Cook’s perpetuate victim-blaming. These individuals—having suffered immense trauma—are now burdened with the additional weight of assuming they have sinned by (hypothetically) allowing themselves to be put in that position.
This kind of problematic language created the conflict between BYU’s Title IX and Honor Code offices. Up until 2016, sexually assaulted students faced a massive barrier to reporting their offenders: expulsion and suspension from school. Five years ago, the addition of the “amnesty clause” separated the two offices and prohibited Title IX from sharing information with the Honor Code office, effectively giving students a safe space to report sexual assault without fear of Honor Code investigations. By equating rape with “non-consensual immorality”, a violent crime becomes the victim’s fault. They are taught that they brought such a horrific event upon themselves by failing to strictly adhere to BYU Honor Code norms, never mind the trauma and injustice they’ve endured. Rhetoric matters, and it has direct results on people’s lives.
Look at the recent attack on the U.S. Capitol, following Rudy Giuliani’s call at Trump’s press rally for “trial by combat”. Regardless of Giuliani’s intentions, it’s hard to swallow the possibility that his inciting remarks had no part in triggering the violence that followed. He later explained to the New York Times that he was referencing Game of Thrones (as if that’s a perfectly acceptable source for a speech at a presidential rally). His explanation may be objectively true, but the weight of his words far exceeds his supposed intentions. And he ought to be responsible for that, as should anyone who invites violence with their rhetoric.
Let me acknowledge, again, that free speech is something worth protecting. However, in the realm of human rights it is not the utmost priority. Physical safety of innocents supersedes free speech in the hierarchy of liberties, and in an unruly world we sometimes cannot have both.
Telling the objective truth alone is a very low bar indeed. We may tell no lies and simultaneously tell a deeply problematic, untrue story.
In our headline-centric culture, choose your words with care. Sensationalism sells, but you can cause a proper uproar with either truth, so choose the one more considerate of vulnerable groups and individuals. Contemplate the narratives they construct and their potential fallout. Remember that it comes at very little personal cost to pause before speaking, writing, or posting. As a reader, consume with the intent to understand. It is worth it in the end.