Over the past week, I have been
struck by the battle of words that has raged across the media, both social and
mainstream. It has been very similar in tone to the back-and-forth before the
election, although it seems that recent events have touched people in far more
emotional and core ways than that. That’s the good news; things of this nature should touch us at a very deep level.
The bad news is that the activation of this core level has led to a deep divide
in rationalizations, justifications and the search for solutions.
This blog is neither the time nor
place to discuss violence in our country nor the cure for it.
But what I have been acutely aware
of during the discussion is the use of words.
Language is a universally human
trait. Yes, I know, animals have language, too, but since I don’t speak dolphin
or chimpanzee, I can’t attest to the qualities of their languages. Our
language, however, is an intriguing mix of describing facts and layering in
emotion. It’s easy to imagine a man in the Stone Age saying (grunting?) to a
friend, “Mammoth coming.” This simple observation of a fact is devoid of
emotion, but when the man adds, “Run!” suddenly it’s a different story. And if
he happens to add, “Run fast!” then
the heightened emotion kicks the whole drama up several notches.
This very simple language of spare
words has, over the millennia, evolved into a highly nuanced vehicle for
conveying ideas. We no longer have to rely on simple adverbs (“Run fast!”) or adjectives (“Big Mammoth!”). We have now at our
disposal an abundance of words that can denote any degree along a scale of
emotion from mild to mixed to manic. It’s one of the most phenomenal qualities
of words that they can convey passion, panic, longing, hatred, fear. It is
exactly these qualities that make writing so powerful, both in the realm of
story-telling and in journalism, for as words convey emotion, they can also promote
it. Who can deny the rose-colored contentment felt after finishing a romance
novel? Or the arousal induced by “adult” fiction? Inciting emotions is what
pulls us into a story, what makes it relevant to us and what makes us care
about the outcome. Words compel us to cheer Rhett Butler as he strides away
from Scarlet; they instill in us to a righteous hope when Tom Joad says, “I’ll
be there.”
Journalism, however, is not (most of
the time) story-telling.
Journalism is supposed to be
predicated on the truth. Journalism is supposed to be about gathering and
presenting the facts of an issue. But words, those simple building blocks of
communication, can like any tool be used for good or ill depending on the
writer’s intent. They can be used to convey a message or incite emotion.
As an example, read the two
sentences below.
He shot 20 children.
He massacred 20 innocent children.
You may agree that one or both of
those statements are factually correct, yet notice the difference in the
emotional content. The emotionally loaded words take the simple statement to a
new level. I am not making a judgment about either statement, or about the
things that are currently being said and written, but I am, during this time of
high emotion and fear, paying particular attention to the words that are being
used.
Because words are powerful.