Professor Nicolas Howe at Berkeley loved to tell the story of Archbishop Robert Lowth, who has caused more pain and suffering to schoolchildren than any grammarian in the history of English. He singlehandedly invented such rules as the split infinitive and double negative.
Mind you, he was not seeking to heal a corrupted language back to some more pure state. No, he was attempting to make English:
- More like Latin, so you can’t do things like split infinitives. Sorry Patrick Stewart, “to boldly go” is improper grammar.
- More like Mathematics, so that “I don’t want nothing for Christmas,” means that you want something, but you’re a passive-aggressive .
Of course, this is a highly myopic way to view language. Not only is English not descended from Latin – it is a distant cousin from which we borrow many words – but, in Latin, you can’t split an infinitive because it’s impossible. It’s one word, where in English, it’s two (in fact, many would argue that it’s one word in English too, and that Romanophile grammarians consider “to go” to be an infinitive simply because it has the same approximate meaning as, say, the Spanish “ir” or one of its cognates (cousin words). And anyway, double negatives are fine in Latin. More “No’s” means you’re VERY negative. And I’m completely baffled as to what “I don’t not want to go to the bar” means in Lowthian-English.
This illustrates the dangers of “prescriptive” language study. Prescriptive language means, “I’m smart and you’re not, so our language is the way I say it should be, not the way you speak it.” It leads to many bad thinking patterns – such as ignoring what people intend and telling them they mean something completely different.
I apologize if this sounds prejudiced.
If I (an American Euro-mutt) were a store clerk, and I treated a white person with respect, and then treated a black person with contempt, he would think I was racist. He would have every right to do so, and (if he had observed the white person’s treatment) he would have convincing evidence thereof. But according to some schools of thought, if we changed shoes and I were being treated worse than some hypothetical black person by a black store clerk, the clerk would not be considered “racist.”
Most people, regardless of what they look like, would probably disagree with this assessment. Racism is racism, and – to use the schoolyard metaphor – plenty of white kids beat up black kids beat up Latinos and back around again, and a lot of it is because of stupid, ugly racism. But a sociologist would defend it, saying that “racism” is the intersection of power and prejudice – that only a powerful group can be truly “racist” towards a weaker group. Likewise for sexism, or for anti-LGBT discrimination.
There are two competing definitions of racism/sexism/discrimination at work here:
- The common “prejudice, hatred or oppression of someone because they belong to another group” definition, which is what most people think of, and
- The jargon “prejudice and power combining to systematically oppress a particular group.”
Jargon is what people in particular professions use to avoid ambiguity.
For example, I might say I’m “depressed” when I’m feeling blue, but in Psychology, “depressed” means specifically that I have clinical depression, which is described as a persistent lack of energy and negative mood for a period of some months which is not better explained by bereavement or another disorder. Or if I said “I need a new fork,” it would be variously interpreted as an article of flatware in a restaurant, the front part of a bicycle in a bike shop, a tuning fork at an orchestra practice, or as a part of a watch by a watchmaker. And, while I might say that the death of a child is “tragic,” in literary criticism “tragic” is a jargon term referring to classical tragedy and its derivative forms. If you used these terms interchangeably, people in those contexts would be rightly confused; or, in the case of my impressionistic use of “tragedy” in English papers, they would simply mark you down.
So, when a sociologist talks about racism, they’re really talking about the specific sociological jargon term. Which is fine, as long as they keep to themselves. But when a sociologist gets up in front of the general public and says, “What you think of as racism isn’t really racism. Racism is this over here,” it’s just like that fat bastard Lowth saying, “Your English is incorrect, because I’m smarter than you.” Why would they do this?
Well, on the one hand, they might be doing it out of ignorance. A lot of people go off to college and learn just enough to become dangerous, and believe, naively, that the thoughts and concepts of the general public are somehow “incorrect” and that they have access to some special knowledge with which they must enlighten the people. And on the other, they might be doing it in an attempt to shape the public discourse – to effectively replace the colloquial definition of the word with a jargon definition, and thereby change people’s thoughts and behavior patterns, supposedly for the better. And, even more “benevolently,” they might be attempting to get their jargon definition enshrined in law, such as in anti-discrimination and anti-hate crime legislation.
I am not wont to underestimate human ignorance, but I think it may be a combination of the two. A learned academic effectively manages to change a group of students’ definition of a word (in a power relationship which, in my opinion, is far more unbalanced than the majority/minority relationship in society at large). The students, being sloppy but enthusiastic thinkers, even start to equivocate the colloquial and jargon definitions, and begin to think such balls-out absurd things as, “Women cannot be prejudiced.” Then, the students go out and blithely attempt to reshape the world, not really knowing what they’re doing, rightly mad as hell about the injustice that exists in society, but possessed of ideas so categorically wrong that it makes holding a reasonable discussion with them utterly impossible.