Three Words to Banish

My friend Erin Phillips recently stated in her blog that she wished the word “closure . . . could be banned from the English language.” She is perfectly right. Unless a person is using the word closure to describe an archaic and arcane political maneuver employed to end a parliamentary debate (usually spelled “cloture”), it should have no place in the language of whole human beings. Why? Because of how the common usage and meaning of the word “closure” has evolved. As I remember it, “closure” flowed out of the lexicon of psychological counseling into mainstream usage a few decades ago as a recommendation for those unable to regain their footing in life because of some loss (death) or personal tragedy. It was directed – it seemed – at those who felt too much, those who were too sensitive. Now, it has too often come to mean: forget your troubling loss or tragedy; “move on”; or, simply and coldly, “get over it.” Original intent has been set on its head. Closure can be seen as serving the most simplistic and selfish purposes. Put the deaths of members of your family behind you – that is, forget them. Forget those events that have caused you hurt. In short, do not admit tragedy into your life. But to be human, of course, is to confront tragedy, to recognize its inevitable role in our lives. It is only through doing so that we acquire any emotional depth, any understanding of the complexities of existence, and any appreciation for the most interesting and unique characteristic of the human condition – irony.

While attending a meeting recently that dealt in part with how the City of Lethbridge might best decide the future use of a segment of its downtown “civic block,” a City official assured everyone that “all of the stakeholders” involved in this issue would be consulted. Stakeholder is another archaic word – this time from the early modern era (16^th – 17^th centuries, that is) – resurrected by capitalist ideologues over the last thirty years to supplant the term citizen. In keeping with neo-liberal economic theory (read: right-wing economic and political beliefs), “stakeholders” are those folks privileged, as John Locke argued, to have exclusive political interests and rights in society. Not only that, but Locke – to the great comfort of the modern right-wing – also encouraged “stakeholders” to seldom employ their political rights because “the least government was the best government.” Graduates of “management” schools or faculties love this word as a substitute for the messy business of democracy – which lets all of the riff-raff into making public decisions. Thus, “stakeholder” pushes aside three centuries of democratic progress, and subverts words like “citizen,” “civic-mindedness,” and “community or public interest.”

Have you been to your dentist lately? You know, the one you have come to admire and trust. Has he begun a “procedure” with the words – “this may cause a little discomfort”? For me, discomfort is finding the blanket has slipped off of me during the night. Discomfort is discovering that the wine you are drinking has more the undertones of tannins than of berries. Discomfort is that sweater that doesn’t quite fit right. An injection into your gums of novacaine or a root canal, are not “discomfort”; they are pain. As in our avoidance of tragedy (in relationship to “closure”) or our avoidance of the great-unwashed mass of citizens (in relationship to “stakeholding”), discomfort allows us to live the lie that we need no longer suffer pain. It is the soft, daily life equivalent of more profoundly disturbing words like – “collateral damage.” It is not quite Orwell’s “double-speak,” but discomfort is a word, along with its many kin, employed with a sleight-of-hand directed at a purpose that is fully and completely manipulative.

In my experience, everyone has several words that make them wince or protest. Computer language, with its catalogue of words now forced into the service of new meanings – e.g., input, download, boot – is a frequent villain among purists. And, ubiquitous phrases changed for no apparent reason – “step up to the plate” rather than the original “step up”; or “at that point in time” rather than the original “at that time” – can be just irritating to some of us (read: me). The point is: word usage usually says a great deal about the pretenses or the politics we embrace.