The Power of Words

Sticks and Stones (Wikimedia Commons)

Words have power.  For all that we learned as children to chant--"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!'--words can hurt.  They can uplift as well.  The power of words comes not only from what they mean, but how they are used and how they are understood.  We learn, also as children, to seek the denotative meaning of words.  It is only through experience that we learn the connotative meanings and, sometimes, how those connotative meanings send additional messages by how and by whom they are used.

A denotative meaning for "bitch" is the female dog (or wolf, fox, or otter).  How it morphed into an epithet for women, I have no idea, nor do I want to ponder too closely how a woman and dog became somehow similar in the male mind.  These days the word is hate speech--when used as a noun by a male (human) and directed at a female (human).  There are still contexts in which "bitch" can be used as a verb (express displeasure, grumble or complain) without any gender (denotative or connotative) attached to it--except that we have to acknowledge that the behavior being labeled by the verb is understood--if we think about it--to derive from the behavior of the female human who can be called a "bitch" by those males still brave enough to utter the word.

On the other hand, there are contexts in which the word can be used as a positive statement.  Women may choose to label themselves as a "bitch" as a statement of self-empowerment.  Tee shirts, buttons, bumper stickers--whatever medium can be used to assert that power--may read "Super Bitch," "Certified Bitch," and, a favorite, "That's Queen Bitch to you!"  And so on.

I'm thinking now about metaphors and how they shape our attitudes.  "Bitch" does not fit our formal concept of a metaphor, but it is a word used to identify a female animal extended to a new context:  a woman.  We often take words from events and experiences and stretch them to apply to some other thing or action or situation.  In this case, we are seeing a label for a particular animal anthropomorphized (correlating animal behavior to human behavior) to apply to a human with the effect, not only of equating the behaviors (animal and human), but also, and more importantly, to equate the human with the animal.  Once such an equivalence is made, we are thereby permitted to act toward the human as we would act toward the animal.  All too often that behavior is negative, abusive, demeaning.

I am not arguing against animal metaphors or similes, calling for a ban on their use.  Our language is enriched by our creative use of imagery from the world around us.  I am, however, suggesting that we might productively spend some time thinking about our casual use of animal epithets in relation to our fellow humans.  Why did we use that language?  Does this language reflect a tendency toward dehumanizing our fellow human?  Does this language reduce our commitment to respecting the inherent worth of the individual?  In this, I am only thinking in terms of our Ethical commitment to treat each other with integrity.  What are we saying when we use these words--dog, cat, horse, ass, pig, ox, cow, sheep, deer, fox, ape, baboon, rat, weasel, skunk, etc.--to describe another human being?  Is someone who "speaks (too) loudly" the same as someone who "brays like an ass"?  

One word, Ben: Plastics!

Where too much plastic waste ends up!

Or words to that effect, as I recall that moment in The Graduate when someone leans over to give the new graduate some advice for the future.  That phrase has continued as, I suppose, a meme ever since that remarkable scene.  I think the audience was as taken aback as Dustin Hoffman's character, Ben, was, and that reaction may have contributed to making the scene so memorable.  The advice of that encounter in a 1967 movie turned out to be prescient.  Plastics now dominate our lives on this planet.  Many consumable products are packaged in plastic.  Many products are themselves made of plastic.  Our homes are filled with plastic, and now our bodies seem also to be filled with microplastics.  What this bodes for the future of humans is not good.  The United Nations Development Program advises that the plastics that leach into our bodies from containers and other products:

are linked to serious health issues such as endocrine disruption, weight gain, insulin resistance, decreased reproductive health, and cancer.

In discussing what to do to observe Earth Month in April, members of the Ethical Society of Austin were challenged to "make one change" in use or consumption of plastics.  That change needed to be something that we are not already doing.  That caveat gave me pause.

I have already been "woke" to the dangers of plastics.  I certainly have not done enough to remove plastics from my life and my home.  I do, however, faithfully recycle the single-use plastics that come into my home.  I have two blue plastic recycling bins in which I place the items to be recycled (metal, paper, plastic, glass, etc.).  Whatever goes into those bins is placed in the larger plastic bin that is rolled to the curb every two weeks and picked up for recycling by a contractor with my local government.  I wash the contaminants from whatever goes in those bins to make sure that the items I am recycling are ready for recycling.  

One problem in this process is that so much single-use plastic still comes into my home.  That's why I end up saving a lot of plastic containers for other uses on the theory that repurposing items is also a way to extend the life of the material used to make the plastic.  One container, reused once, reduces the impact of the blob of plastic that made it by 50%--or so the calculation goes.  Multiple reuses of the same container would presumably continue to reduce its impact more and more over time.  In the meantime, if I am buying more of the same product in the same kind of container, I will, at some point, have too many to reuse.  I have, in fact, reached that point with several types of containers.

For the challenge to "make one change," I did make the change to stop buying beverages in plastic containers and switch to glass or metal containers.   Since my beverage of choice is sparkling water, I have plenty of choice in brand and type while sticking to my favorite unflavored drink.  

I do, however, have to be more careful now with the remaining plastic bottles that previously contained said sparkling water.  I have two Pellegrino brand bottles that I saved from a train trip last year, two Topo Chico bottles that showed up from a couple of trips around Texas, and two half-pint bottles that I got for free somewhere.  I like these bottles for their shapes and sizes, and I keep them filled with "still water" in my fridge.  I have sometimes carried them with me on errands, losing a bottle here and there.  These remaining bottles, I have now pledged, will be continuously reused unless I decide to stop using them and send them for recycling.  No new ones allowed.  

I don't know how significant an effect my "one change" will make for the planet, but it does make me aware--every day--that Ethics, to be central, requires making the same choice over and over again.  It has been a challenge to go into the grocery store and not pick up a bottle of water (in plastic) to sip while I shop.  Yesterday, I put a can of sparkling water in my purse, carried it into a big box store, showed it to the greeter, who waved me through.  It's more awkward to keep a can balanced than a bottle with a lid that prevents spills, but at least I'm learning to support my choices with a little advance planning.