Self-censoring before I finish that word; I wouldn't want to Godwin myself. The point is, I'm constantly haranguing about how words have meaning. Now, I'm not saying words have intrinsic or unalterable meaning; I'm perfectly willing to accept the natural evolution of meaning that accompanies natural language. But let's take a look at the genetic engineering (so to speak) of language for particular ends, shall we?
I want to start by defining terms. Language, for purposes of this post, I'm limiting to verbal language; "body language" and things like the "language" of art are too subjective for this discussion. By "evolution" I mean a gradual, and undirected, drift from one state or set of characteristics to another; this definition is functionally opposed to both "intelligent design" and "domestication," in which change is directed toward a particular end. And finally, let's posit that words are the "genes" of language: the building blocks, the carriers of information that can be transmitted to others. If a word is understood in one way by the speaker or writer, and in another way by the listener or reader, then information has not been accurately transmitted.
Case asks his readers to imagine an alternative form of the fable of the boy who cried wolf, in which a bunch of shepherd boys who, unhappy about the lack of attention they're able to command when the problem they face is not wolves but, say, dogs or coyotes (both less of a threat to their flock than actual wolves), decide together to start calling dogs and coyotes "wolves." At first, just as in the original fable, the villagers come running with their pitchforks whenever the kids shout "Wolf!" - only to see that the threat is less than they understood it to be. And just as in the original fable, they grow inured to the kids' shouts and eventually stop responding at all, so that when the real threat shows up, the shepherd on duty has to fight it alone. The shepherds have inflated the concept of "wolf" to the point where their audience, through experience, now accepts their new meaning, and the word has lost the urgency of its original meaning - to the detriment of everyone.
Case is talking, of course, about the word "violence," which we're now given to understand can apply not just to physical attacks (such as a "violent crime") or physical conditions (such as a "violent storm"), but also to a firmly stated difference of opinion or a "repugnant" opinion stated all by its lonesome. See, for instance, this - trigger warning! - New York Times opinion piece about "when speech is violence": the writer, a professor of psychology, believes that
[b]y all means, we should have open conversations and vigorous debate about controversial or offensive topics. But we must also halt speech that bullies and torments. From the perspective of our brain cells, the latter is literally a form of violence.And when she says "literally," she means literally literally: earlier in the piece, she talks about telomeres shortened as a result of chronic stress, and about the power of words to produce chronic stress in the body. Hang on, it's worthwhile to quote that whole bit:
...Words can have a powerful effect on your nervous system. Certain types of adversity, even those involving no physical contact, can make you sick, alter your brain — even kill neurons — and shorten your life.So the syllogism is "Words => chronic stress; chronic stress => bad health effects; therefore words => bad health effects." Fair enough, from the standpoint of logic. But it rests on another set of relationships that isn't a syllogism: "Chronic stress => harm; violence => harm; therefore chronic stress = violence." And that one is not in evidence, but we're asked to accept it anyway. Finish up with one more syllogism: "Words => chronic stress; chronic stress => violence; therefore words => violence" - but the middle set of relationships is still hanging out there, undemonstrated.
Your body’s immune system includes little proteins called proinflammatory cytokines that cause inflammation when you’re physically injured. Under certain conditions, however, these cytokines themselves can cause physical illness. What are those conditions? One of them is chronic stress.
Your body also contains little packets of genetic material that sit on the ends of your chromosomes. They’re called telomeres. Each time your cells divide, their telomeres get a little shorter, and when they become too short, you die. This is normal aging. But guess what else shrinks your telomeres? Chronic stress.
If words can cause stress, and if prolonged stress can cause physical harm, then it seems that speech — at least certain types of speech — can be a form of violence. But which types?
I'll note that the writer links to a Psychiatry Online article reporting on a study that found changes in white matter, as well as behavioral effects, correlated with higher incidence of verbal abuse by peers in childhood. This link encompasses her phrase "words can have a powerful effect on your nervous system."
So that's the scientific basis for calling speech "violence" - though, notice, there's already a perfectly good term for this kind of action - "verbal abuse"; and also notice, the term "violence" is not typically understood to mean low-level but constant erosion (chronic stress, in this case) such as is commonly seen in cases of abuse. In other words, society understands that "abuse" and "violence" mean different things. "Violence" means a discrete act or condition. "Abuse" means either a pattern of harmful behavior that may include incidents of violence, or, in a special case, a single incidence of an act otherwise defined as "abuse." (What I mean by that particular expansion of the term "abuse" is that a spouse, for example, who has been subjected once to a type of behavior that we commonly call "abuse," such as being struck by the other spouse, may still be considered to have been "abused" even though that act only happened once. I'm avoiding talking about child sexual abuse here because that subject is terribly fraught and, because of the enormous power differential between child and adult, and often a size differential as well, even sexual contact by an adult that wouldn't cause physical pain or harm to another adult, might usefully be considered violent when suffered by a child.)
The expansion of the term "abuse" to include single incidents of abusive behavior is language evolution in action. Society has come to agree on this expansion as we have come to agree on the idea of what constitutes abuse. The expansion of the term "violence" to include disagreeable speech is not language evolution, but, as I said at the very beginning, "genetic engineering" of language, changing language on purpose to suit a particular end. Make no mistake, the writer in the NYT isn't talking about individual bullying; she's talking about the societal act of "permitting a culture of casual brutality" (her whole statement is, "There is a difference between permitting a culture of casual brutality and entertaining an opinion you strongly oppose. The former is a danger to a civil society (and to our health); the latter is the lifeblood of democracy.") - with no agreed-on definition of what constitutes "casual brutality." She uses Milo Yiannopoulos as an example without providing any example of his speech that promotes "casual brutality"; the reader is expected simply to agree that Yiannopoulos's speech is self-evidently a "danger to a civil society" because it is "violent" by her prior resort to logic - the one that leaves the important middle terms un-agreed-upon.
And of course, returning to Case's essay, the effect is to devalue the word "violence" so that we all just end up ignoring it. In the short run, we all pick up our pitchforks and come to the defense of those against whom "violence" is being perpetrated - those threatened by the so-called "wolf" - but when we see that the poor victims are just milling around, a few of them looking upset but most of them just keeping an eye on the nearby dog, we shoulder those pitchforks, roll our eyes, and go back to our work. The anti-GMO crowd should take note: words do have meaning, and you forcefully change that meaning at society's peril. Way to go, shepherds - when one of your sheep is being ravaged by an actual wolf, good luck trying to get our attention.
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