Fundamentally, as Dr Partha Kar
pointed out in this recent post, it’s a simple question of good manners.
Whether it’s the #HelloMyNameIs campaign so admirably started by and perpetuated
in the name of the late Dr Kate Granger or the NHS #LanguageMatters
campaign arising from the thoughtless language sometimes used to talk about diabetes, choosing appropriate words is a matter of common courtesy. Our sophisticated
power of speech is what distinguishes us from other animals, and words are
wonderful things, but can also be very powerful and hurtful weapons.
However, at the risk of clouding an
age-old and simple issue of manners, I do feel that the issue of language has
become more difficult in our increasingly connected, hyper-communicative and
instantly reactive world. And the problem extends well beyond the world of healthcare. At the risk of seeming like an anti-internet reactionary
(which I am anything but), I feel that the written language has become so common a currency
that it has perhaps become devalued and under-estimated.
The ease and ubiquity of
exchanging words with a far larger audience than was possible just a few years
ago means that the words that we so readily use have a far greater reach. We
have all become potentially influential writers, with the power to persuade and
influence but also to hurt far more people than just those around us.
The English language in
particular is wonderful, and in many ways deserves to have come to dominate
communication across the world in the way it has done. Our language is uniquely
rich and subtle, and has the ability to adapt and change at bewildering speed
without losing its power or its charm.
Yet perhaps one aspect that
requires more thought and attention is the way in which divisions between the spoken and written forms of language have become blurred: thanks to ICT, we
all now communicate far more in writing than in the past, using text, social
media and email to communicate in a way which just wasn’t possible in the
past. Some moan about sloppy language, grammatical errors, and the use of
abbreviations, acronyms and emojis as evidence that standards are falling, yet
I see some marvellously expressive use of language in the online world.
However, what we are in danger of
losing is the ability to distinguish between appropriate registers of language. In effect, we all now write as if we are speaking,
which is great, but overlooks the fact that the written word (as seen on the
screen of our phone or tablet) has a potentially hurtful permanence that the spoken
word does not. We all say things in the heat of the moment which are
hurtful, but we can apologise, explain why we did it, then perhaps say the same thing
in a gentler way and in so doing start to put the hurt right. But anything written, for
example in a Twitter post, stays there in perpetuity, such that it retains the
power to cause harm and upset in a way which may not have been intended. If you need proof of the problem, we now have a US President who appears to think it wise to share his impulsive and at times ill-considered thoughts with the world using Twitter.
The decline of formal registers
of language is in some ways commendable: the Plain English Campaign has done
much to ensure that ordinary people can understand complex specialised
documents and that rich and powerful people and organisations cannot hide behind
unnecessarily opaque language. But there is a place for formal and restrained language
which has been carefully crafted, considered and reviewed. The sort that was in
the past used in letter-writing, dare I say?
Our written language has, quite
understandably, become very "chatty". Which is fine in its own way, as long as we
don’t overlook the context or the importance of what we are saying. If there
are no boundaries to what we say, no conventions and taboos, we risk causing
unintended harm, and using words which are far too strong for the context. In
particular, swearing has been massively devalued (as happened years ago with the French language), such that it has completely lost its impact yet has retained the power to
cause offence and upset. I am not against the use of swear words, but there is
no point in having them if they lose the power to add an element of shock and
emphasis to what I say. So on the very rare occasions when I do swear, people know
I am really annoyed. And I would never swear in writing unless directly and privately addressing trusted friends. The casual use of previously taboo words in the online
world has to some extent undermined the power of those words, yet they are still nasty: people say “WTF” without
thinking what they are actually saying, and casually insult those of whom they disapprove
using slang words for the genitalia of both genders. There was an amusing lack
of irony which I saw in a supposedly supportive response to Partha’s post calling for
people to be gentler in their use of use of language by someone saying “It's
surprisingly simple to not be a dick”. Talk about fighting fire with fire...
So perhaps some of the keyboard warriors
out there should remember that although they may think they are just “talking”
online, they are in fact writing, and in so doing can cause more hurt than was
intended. And just because the object of our anger is a doctor, a politician, a
footballer or a celebrity does not mean that he or she has no feelings.
Language matters, and words can hurt: but “Do you really want to hurt me?”
