On trial, I never refer to my client as “the defendant.” He’s Joe Smith, or whatever his name happens to be, because I want the jury to see him as a human being. Whether this makes a real difference to the jury is unclear. It’s one of a thousand things that happen at trial, and there is no metric to figure out whether it helps. The best I can argue is it can’t hurt, and there’s no downside to doing so. So why not?
Pamela Paul argues that the trend to euphemism, to vilifying one word as stigmatizing and replacing it with more words, has a cost. She has a point. Or two.
Much ado has been made of euphemism inflation, the ceaseless efforts to reform the English language toward desired social or political ends. The well-worn euphemism treadmill has fueled many a George Carlin bit, caused George Orwell to toss and turn feverishly in his grave and led even the most deeply sensitive among us to a grumpy grandpa “What are we supposed to call it now?” moment.
But while it’s easy to make fun of the changes, it’s worth digging deeper to examine the underlying logic of what can feel like — but rarely is — arbitrary new terminology.
There are quite a few serious people who are absolutely certain that “people first” language is critically important for the purpose of reform. Take, for example, calling someone a felon or an ex-con. They argue with absolute certainty that these are bad words that should never be uttered.
But the very power of that label has made it practically taboo. In its place, even federal prosecutors have adopted phrases like “justice involved” or “justice impacted” to describe those convicted of crimes — as if we could reform the entire criminal justice system simply by using new words.
Having known a few felons who eventually became ex-cons, they were far more concerned with getting acquitted or getting out of prison than what they were called. But Paul hits on the key concern here, that “we could reform the entire criminal justice system simply by using new words.” Granted, it’s not that reformers are relying solely on new words, so characterizing it as “simply” may be oversimplifying their position, but the proponents of “people first” euphemisms fight as if it is a life-or-death battle for the souls of the oppressed.
But euphemisms can inadvertently rob words of their moral force. “Enslaved person” humanizes the victim, but it also softens the indignity of what is a fundamentally dehumanizing condition. When, for example, Ian Urbina writes about contemporary “sea slaves” in the South China Sea, the abject state of the world’s victims is delivered in a verbal gut punch in a way “enslaved people at sea” would not.
Calling someone a felon has an impact. Calling someone a slave has an impact. Does calling someone a “person with a felony” “justice-impacted person” carry the same punch? Is an enslaved person as horrific as a slave?
Many of these changes seem neutral on the face of it. The replacement of “homeless” with “unhoused” at first glance seems like a superfluous switcheroo. But key to the change is the implication that the government has failed to provide a home, not that someone has lost one. Similarly, “poor” neighborhoods become “under-resourced communities.” And truancy, which feels like an accusation of juvenile delinquency, instead becomes “absenteeism,” which humbly suggests a box left unticked on the attendance list, more the fault of the school than the student.
What this reflects is an effort at burden shifting, that nobody is bad or wrong or criminal or drunk, but a victim of circumstance whom the government has failed to save. Is this really what’s going on, and nobody bears any responsibility for their choices or actions? Sometimes yes, and other times no. But just as they were all swept up in the same phrase before, they’re all swept up in the same longer and vaguer phrase now, even though their circumstances were largely, if not entirely, of their own making.
But that’s not the only flaw with the compelled use of euphemistic language to blunt the impact of harsher language to reflect that there is blame to levy and not everybody is a victim.
This tendency still exists in political language (see “enhanced interrogation”). But today’s vague language is more often used as a means to ward off bad things so we don’t have to deal with harsh reality. Euphemistic language becomes a kind of wishcasting, and perhaps even a way of avoiding — or covering up a lack of — more substantive reform.
The substitution of euphemisms for words that smack you across the face, like “torture,” creates a sense of accomplishment, that activists have achieved something important and valuable by changing felon to justice-impacted person. They can then pat themselves on the back and go have a chai latte, safe in the knowledge that they have changed the world.
But my felon clients just want out of prison, no matter how anyone refers to them. The best thing you can call them is ex-con, because that “ex” is what they really care about. Euphemisms might make reformers feel all warm and fuzzy, but breathing free air is what defendants want more than anything else.
A couple years ago our local sheriff here in this liberal I mean progressive hollow of Madison declared that he was changing the term for his hosted charges from “inmates” to “residents.” Hence, the online search for the “inmate roster” became passé and in its place one clicked on “County Jail Resident List.” The stated purpose was to humanize the inmates. But to whom remains unclear. My own jailed clients don’t give a rat’s ass how they are listed, but care only about how much money they need to get out, or how many more hash-marked days before they get out. Not a single one has told me how much happier they are as a result of their improved moniker. Strange. And I have yet to see this become a re-election issue either. So it was and remains not a damn thing more than virtue-signaling. Which was huge in the post-George Floyd era when this took effect.
Howl, you have outdone yourself.
Needs more cowbell.
I kinda expected that. You asked for it.
I surrender.
Has anyone suggested replacing “defense attorney” with “personal legal representative”? Or “prosecutor” with “representative of the people and the state”?
I think it is all silly, and an attempt to change how people think of things and people, to prepare the ground for the future implementation of Newspeak.
You may want to read the Simple Justice article entitled “The Government, By Any Other Name (Update),” which deals with efforts by the attorneys on both sides to have the presiding judge rule on what terms can be used to refer to opposing counsel.
“Justice impacted person” appears to assume that what happened to the person was “justice.” Even if he or she copped a plea simply because it was not otherwise possible to escape protracted pretrial confinement. Even if the conviction is later shown to have been the result of prosecutor misconduct, or perhaps compelling evidence of actual innocence has surfaced. Obviously, “justice impacted person” can only be acceptable for cases in which the results were acceptable and sociopolitically correct. In all other cases, “injustice impacted victim” has better long term prospects.
Back in the stone age the county I worked in used misdemeanor citation books with pages half the size of a standard piece of typing paper and each form had three NCR copies that required serious pen pressure to be readable. The “Offense” box was about 1/4″ by 1″. We carried binders of recommended verbiage, depending on the offense, to go in that small space made up by the local DA’s office to cut down on tossed cases. The recommendations generally ran from six to twelve words/numbers. Precise, minimal wording and hand printing in two point pica with a fine point pen became an art form that I still use today.
“Justice impacted person” is the same kind of mind-numbing word salad so ineffectively employed by both of our presidential candidates.
Sticking euphemisms to replace deemed pejorative accomplishes nothing. and it sure don’t alter real reality. Real is always real:
“Correctional institutions” really are prisons, and nothing gets corrected.
“Friends with benefits” really is getting laid (or, for Shakespeare, “making the beast with two backs”).
Janet Jackson’s “wardrobe malfunction” was her tit catching breeze.
Luca Brasi got whacked, offed, or turned off.
Fortunately, they aren’t coming for the Swiss Army Knife of language–“fuck.” It’s every kind of grammar! It’s a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, gerund, pronoun. I’ll let you determine all the gyrations. Eliminating this word would have greater consequences than just eliminating the word because it’s not just one word–it’s probably like a hundred words. Getting rid of it would mean losing them all. Them fuckers better never fuckin’ try to fuck with fuck.
The word has a cousin that exemplifies the problem. Once upon a time, there was a condition known as “mental retardation.” Those with the diagnosis were “retards.” Somewhere along the way, that became no good, no more. By then “retard” didn’t just apply to the diagnosed. In the basic form, it also was used a dopey pal. Other forms described a stupid act. It even had its own short form: “tard.” All were lost because “retard” lost its gleam. I sure miss tard; he was a righteous dude.
Only feebs conjure that eliminating words and terms accomplishes a change in reality. Actions change reality. Proposing anything else is just fucking retarded.
“But key to the change is the implication that the government has failed to provide a home, not that someone has lost one.”
“What this reflects is an effort at burden shifting, that nobody is bad or wrong or criminal or drunk, but a victim of circumstance whom the government has failed to save.”
“Is this really what’s going on, and nobody bears any responsibility for their choices or actions? Sometimes yes, and other times no.”
The implication of all 3 sentences is people aren’t responsible for their outcomes. People are almost universally homeless due to a series of poor decisions, and it is a hole that once in is unimaginably hard to get out of. People commit crimes or get drunk/high because of the choices they made. The idea that people aren’t responsible for their actions unless they are truly (to use the incorrect word) insane give those persons license to continue their poor choices or bad behavior. “See, it isn’t my fault I’m homeless because I spent all my money getting high. It’s the government’s fault for not giving me a home (which I wouldn’t maintain anyway).” or “It’s not my fault that lady wouldn’t give up her purse and I had to hit her with that pipe to get her money.” Or one I’m seeing more lately “I showed up in this tourist area in my car with all my worldly goods and $100 thinking I’d fall into a high paying job right away and now I can’t find a place to live or a job that pays what I want. Please help me.”
Actions and choices have consequences and my sympathy is about gone.
I am sympathy-impaired.