Conscious Language
Words have the power to do good: to uplift, to inspire, to provoke thought, to represent those who do not see themselves in media. Words also have the power to do harm: to marginalize, to hurt, to reinforce stereotypes, to erase identities. Writers hold these powers in their hands, and my job as an editor is to help writers use their words with intention. In my role as an editor, I challenge writers to think more about the impact of their words.
As I comb through a manuscript, I’m looking at different aspects of language. I’m analyzing grammar, spelling, punctuation, repetition, and consistency. I’m also assessing dialogue, flow, and sentence structure. In addition to all of this, I’m thinking about conscious language. According to Conscious Style Guide, “conscious language is the art of using words effectively in a specific context. . . . Some words are more apt than others. The most important part of conscious language is the conscious part—our intention. Good writers consciously use disagreeable language to strike a dissonant tone. The goal is not to be inoffensive or politically correct (whatever that means), because even language intended to be inclusive and considerate can be received the wrong way. If you’re interested in conscious language, then clarify your intention and evoke and provoke skillfully.”
While editing, I’m constantly asking myself what the writer’s intent might be. If an element of the writing has a potential unintended consequence, I’ll flag it in case the writer may be unaware of how it may be interpreted. I’m also a preliminary reader, so if I come across something that doesn’t sit well with me, chances are that another reader will have a similar feeling. What is perfectly fine to one reader may be uncomfortable or offensive to another. Context matters, and there is no “one size fits all” approach to language or word choice. Sure, there are some words that are pretty universally understood as being problematic, but language is more nuanced than that. Even with problematic words, if the writer’s intent is to bring awareness or evoke a reader’s discomfort, that’s a different situation from one in which a writer may not know the word is problematic in the first place. My goal is to make sure the writer is aware of the potential effects of their words and that the message they may send is the intended one. I don’t, however, tell them they must make a change. It’s up to the writer to decide what they want to say and how they want to say it.
Below are some thoughts on using conscious language. Keep in mind that this covers only a fraction of the many considerations involved in the ongoing process of using conscious language.
Physical descriptions of characters
Physical descriptions of characters are useful in helping readers visualize them. Here are some things to keep in mind when writing descriptions:
When skin color is only mentioned when a character is non-White, this implies that White characters are the default and everything else is “other.” Providing a comparable amount of physical description for all main characters and a comparable amount for all supporting characters can even the playing field. When no skin color is mentioned at all, this can suggest that there is no diversity among the characters. It can be a tricky balance to strike.
Comparing skin color to foods for people of color (chocolate, caramel, coffee) is generally frowned upon because it can fetishize people of color, and many of the foods used to describe skin color have a history with slavery. For an in-depth look at writing about skin color, check out Writing with Color’s guide. Also, this Buzzfeed article provides a humorous spin on this topic.
Physical descriptions that reinforce stereotypes can be harmful. I’ve flagged a manuscript that described an East Asian character as having small eyes, a stereotype that many East Asians have been bullied for.
Body shapes and sizes vary in the real world. Not everyone is athletic or muscular, depending on the context of the story.
Please don’t describe a character as looking “exotic.”
Behaviors and roles
Characters’ behaviors and roles can also play into stereotypes. Even if the character just happens to have a certain characteristic that fits a stereotype, it may be worth considering what the unintended consequence may be to readers, especially ones who only see themselves portrayed in media in limited ways. The sassy best friend just happens to be a Black woman. All of the breadwinners just happen to be men, and all of the stay-at-home parents just happen to be women. The promiscuous character just happens to be bisexual. The inspirational character just happens to be disabled. It may not be as simple as “replace this characteristic with another one to avoid the stereotype” either. Depending on how fleshed out the character is, the intersectionality of the character’s identities may influence certain aspects of how they are portrayed.
Person-first and identity-first language
The idea of person-first language and identity-first language is to reduce stigma when referring to an individual with a physical or cognitive disability, or a health or mental health diagnosis.
Person-first language places the individual first, such as “a person with a disability” or “a person with autism.” The reason for this is to place the person first and to separate the characteristic from their identity. Identity-first language places the characteristic first, such as “a disabled person” or “an autistic person.” This type of language may be preferred by those who see their disability as part of who they are, which cannot—and should not—be separated from their identity. People with Disability Australia details the differences between PFL and IFL. As J. R. Thorpe writes for Bustle, “The difference between the perspectives essentially boils down to personhood and disability: is it something that you have, or something that's at the core of your identity?”
While there's been a strong push to make person-first language standard, PFL is considered harmful by many disability advocates because of the message it sends: that being disabled is separate, shameful, or unworthy of affirmation. PFL is frequently used and recommended by families of disabled folks and the professionals who work with them, but not often used by the disabled folks themselves (where IFL is more common). For a much more nuanced breakdown of PFL versus IFL and why PFL can be harmful, I strongly encourage you to read Lydia X. Z. Brown’s two articles on the significance of semantics and identity and hypocrisy.
There is no consensus on whether to use person-first or identity-first language for a specific group, disability, or diagnosis. Some people prefer PFL, and others prefer IFL. If possible, talk to the individuals you’re writing about to understand how they self-identify. You can also consult the National Center on Disability and Journalism’s style guide, which has guidance on preferred language for some specific groups.
Regardless of whether person-first or identity-first language is used, grouping all individuals that share a common characteristic with a preceding “the” should generally be avoided, such as saying “the disabled,” “the mentally ill,” or “the elderly.” This type of language is seen as lumping all of these individuals into one group and ignoring the unique experiences of each person. This also applies to groups across other marginalized characteristics, such as race, sexual orientation, gender identity, and religion.
For more information on writing about disability, read my post about ableism in writing and everyday language.
Sex and gender
A few notes on terms related to sex and gender:
The terms “female” and “male” are typically used as adjectives, such as a “female colleague” or “male colleague.” Sometimes, “female(s)” or “male(s)” will be used as nouns, such as “the females were sitting around the table chatting.” Using “female” as a noun is perceived by many as derogatory toward women. Usually, the terms “woman/women” and “man/men” are the preferred nouns.
Some commonly used terms are gendered and can often be replaced by non-gendered terms.
mankind → humankind
mailman → mail carrier; policeman → police officer
housewife → homemaker
English famously does not have a gender-neutral pronoun. Writers often choose to use “he/she” or “one,” or to alternate between “he” and “she” in examples. The use of the singular “they” has been long used but not necessarily widely accepted, especially in formal writing. Language and its uses are constantly evolving. Merriam-Webster declared the word “they” as Word of the Year 2019 due to a surge in popularity, especially with some celebrities stating that they are nonbinary. I’m using the singular “they” throughout this article.
For more information on writing about gender, read my post about gender and inclusive language.
Authenticity (sensitivity) readers
One method in which a writer can receive feedback on their manuscript is to have it read by authenticity readers, often called sensitivity readers. The role of authenticity readers is to critique a manuscript’s story, characters, plot, descriptions, and themes with a focus on authenticity. This is especially useful when a writer does not belong to a group they are writing about. Does the writer represent X, Y, or Z in a way that is nuanced and believable, or is it one dimensional? Are these cultural representations stereotyped or harmful? Does the plot rely on tropes? Are there unconscious biases that may need to be examined? Authenticity readers are not there to police words and pounce on every opportunity to be offended. Their role is to improve the writing and story by highlighting areas that may require thought or revision in order to portray elements authentically. It’s important to note that authenticity readers also don’t speak for entire groups, and their insights typically come from their own personal experiences and knowledge base. This Huffpost article provides an overview of what sensitivity readers do, or you can read my blog post on sensitivity reading 101.
Final thoughts
It may be a new challenge to think about how words may affect those reading them—not just the emotional impact of the story itself, but how conscious language choices play a role in how the message is received. Again, it’s not about what word can be said or what word can’t be said. It’s about how to use words intentionally to create an authentic, representative, and thought-provoking story.
Additional reading
Conscious Style Guide is an invaluable resource and a great starting point to learn more about conscious language.
My Conscious Language Toolkits for Editors and Writers are resources that offer practical tips for writers and professional editors to be aware of.
The American Psychological Association (APA) has guidelines on bias-free language.
Writing with Color has resources on writing about racial and ethnic diversity.
The National Center on Disability and Journalism has a Disability Language Style Guide for how to write about disability.
