The Word Whataboutism Caught My Eye

by Eileen Davis

This weekend I read many social media posts about “whataboutism.” The term caught my eye because it seemed so interesting. And it seemed an insult. I figured it meant people asking “what about that?” but I didn’t have much clue.

So here is what Merriam-Webster dictionary says about whataboutism:

Whataboutism gives a clue to its meaning in its name. It is not merely the changing of a subject (“What about the economy?”) to deflect away from an earlier subject as a political strategy; it’s essentially a reversal of accusation, arguing that an opponent is guilty of an offense just as egregious or worse than what the original party was accused of doing, however unconnected the offenses may be.

Upon first reading another explanation, I concluded this was a red herring in logic — or distracting one’s opponent from the issue at hand. But it’s a “you too” or tu qouque logical fallacy. The opponent says that you are guilty of the same crime instead of validating whether the first claim is true or not.

This circular logic is dizzying and confusing.

Now the term makes sense to me in the context of US politics. Some are accusing Antifa and Black Lives Matters protestors of similar conduct as the Stop the Steal protestors. Essentially, people are pointing their fingers at each other.

In my humble opinion, protests turn too easily to riots because bad actors generally appear at some point. Personally, I deliberate for hours until I post my opinion on social media.

Finally, I have P!NK’s song “What About Us?” stuck in my head.

Looking at the cartoon, what do you notice about the figures’ ears, mouths, and heads? What’s over their ears? Are they able to listen to one another?

The Change of Generic Man to Gender-Specific Man

I wrote about this topic previously but added more content here.

Representative Emanuel Cleaver II opened the 117th Congress session with a controversial end to his prayer: “amen and a woman.” Cleaver meant it as a pun to illustrate the current high number of female members of Congress. His intent seems good, though his timing may seem sacrilegious and inappropriate to some.

Others on social media aired their grievances about Cleaver’s pun. For example, conservative commentator Ben Shapiro tweeted:

“Amen” is a Biblical Hebrew word: אמן. It is a word simply meaning “may it be so.” It has nothing to do with the word “man” or “woman” because it is FROM HEBREW. This is some of the dumbest s*** I have ever seen in my life.

This incident illustrates the tension surrounding words and gender politics. Even if intent may be honorable on both sides of an issue, a war of words may still ensue over the definition narrowing and/or broadening of gendered terms.

What do you think about Cleaver's pun on amen?

The Faux Pas

I experienced similar tension during a college class over the Star Trek introduction. In the first few months of my marriage to a Trekkie, my husband and I watched the original Star Trek where I heard “To boldly go where no man has gone before” with every introduction.

During my Modern American Usage class the next semester, the professor asked for examples of sexist or inclusive language.

“Where no man has gone before,” I said.

Suddenly two or three people in the class objected: “No, it’s ‘where no one has gone before.’”

I cowered, but I knew I was right!

Well, I hadn’t watched Star Trek: Next Generation yet where the creators had changed the introduction to inclusive language. However, my example with theirs showed the evolution of inclusive language from the 60s to the 80s.

Has anyone ever called you out for sexist language? Have you ever called someone out for sexist language? How did the exchange go?

Generic Man

Over thousands of years, our language has narrowed generic human nouns and pronouns into gender-specific nouns and pronouns (or vice versa). Old English used wer to indicate an adult male, but speakers replaced wer with man. The meaning of man meant male or female until AD 1000. But man retained the sense of people for longer. The last original Star Trek introduction (6/23/1969) and Neil Armstrong’s declaration on the moon “One small step for man; one giant leap for mankind” (7/20/1969) illustrate this sense of people until 1969.

Other terms that use man for the sense people include mankind, manslaughter, manhandle, etc. Mankind has declined in usage over the past 200 years. Humankind seems to have replaced mankind in some instances since 1960. Using Google Books Ngram, mankind usage decreased in 1978 as humankind usage increased. Mankind has a slight dip — mostly in the 90s — but it returns to the same percentage in 2019. Interestingly enough, mankind increased in the new Millennium. Humankind doesn’t seem to have replaced mankind as of yet, and the term may never do so.

Screenshot of Ngram

Can you think of other terms with "man" that still retain the sense of people?

The Desire for Gender Neutral Terms Returns

Ironically, as gender-specific terms narrowed, some have a desire for gender-neutral terms again. This desire stems from various legal, diversity, and transgender movements. First, gender-neutral language often simplifies legal language. Second, some desire gender-neutral terms to reflect the gender spectrum. For these dual purposes, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has proposed to change gender-specific terms to gender-neutral terms in the Congress ethic rules. This proposal has again sparked controversy among politicians.

The issue of gender-neutral versus gender-specific terms encounters controversy because of potential discrimination based on sex, religion, or political persuasion.

How do you feel about the changes in the House Ethic Rules?

Look at a Person’s Intentions

The changes in meaning and terms have been an underlying issue in the culture wars for several decades. This tension will most likely continue. But as it continues, we need to look at people’s intentions behind their words. Like Cleaver and Shapiro, most of us have honorable intentions. Thus, we can draw on our honorable intentions, instead of our desires to be right or not offended, to reach compromises or to kindly disagree. Albeit not everyone will do this, but you and I can choose to do this.

How can we approach each other with a "heart at peace" when addressing conflicts over language usage?

The Grammatical Structure of “Writing About Writing” Makes Sense, But Not Others

“Writing about writing” uses the same word as two different word classifications: progressive verb+"about"+gerund.

Some things don't make sense; Photo by Author

As a child, many of my favorite books included main characters who wanted to become writers. In Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, Jo March’s desire to write a great novel inspired my idea to write a great novel. From the L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables series, I mourned when Gilbert made fun of Anne Shirley, especially when he called her writing “highfalutin mumbo jumbo.”

Writers Alcott and Montgomery wrote about characters who wrote. This cycle feels familiar even today. Now there is an entire industry of writers writing about writing. Some make thousands of dollars from writers and wannabee writers purchasing these items. Even I fall into the trap of writing about writing. I enjoy helping others improve their writing and other language skills, though I haven’t made any money with writing advice yet.

These thoughts on “writing about writing” intrigued me on a grammatical level. The syntax (word order) is a verb+preposition+noun, where the first verb is in the progressive tense and the noun is a gerund (the progressive verb form used as a noun). I experimented with other verbs: reading about reading, dreaming about dreaming, or hearing about hearing. These constructions made sense while others did not: walking about walking, tasting about tasting, or climbing about climbing.

So what makes some verbs work, but not others?

I wondered about abstract verbs versus concrete verbs, but that didn’t quite make sense. For example, the abstract idea of “thinking about thinking” works yet the concrete idea of “typing about typing” works too. What makes sense comes down to word definitions and context. Otherwise, these are grammatically correct, but nonsense phrases.

In the end, words are more than letters, sounds, and word classes. They are the meaning generations of humans have imbued into these sounds. Each word has an idea associated with it. Thus, I am writing about writing.

So what progressive verbs can you think of that work as gerunds that don’t sound nonsensical?

Writing Process for Poem My Moonbeam Spills on Your Face

As a teenager, I often gazed at the moon and stars through my bedroom window. God’s creations bore witness of his love for me. I contemplated how I could personify this message in poetry.

I wrote my first draft entitled “I spill a moonbeam” during my high school freshman or sophomore year. The words came as a song. Whenever I shared this poem, I sang it. I sang this poem to a friend during a sleepover. She complimented my singing voice, which I had never considered as beautiful, just off-key.

My first draft reads thus:

I spill a moonbeam
Across your face
While you do dream
Of a heavn’ly place.

I stream in sunshine
Through your window,
And yet you whine
Of my sun’s glow.

I whisper to you,
“I love you so!
I really do.”
Yet you don’t know.

I weep from above.
I groan within:
“Remember my love!
Let yourself grin.”

Again my moonbeam
Shines on your face
While you do dream
Of a heavn’ly place.

I showed this poem to another friend. She noted that the “do” felt repetitive. She wondered why people added “did” and “do” to poetry. I figured the “do” belonged in the first stanza because it kept the rhythm. I didn’t remove it.

A few years ago, I compiled a nature booklet that I hoped to sell on Amazon. I asked a retired English teacher from my hometown to look it over. She suggested removing the “do.” Here are her suggestions:

Screenshot by Author

I finally gave up the “do” for the next beta reader. Here are her suggestions:

Screenshot by Author

This revision still lacked the poignancy I wanted, so my mind percolated on how to improve the poem for the last few years. Last month, I finally wrote a revision late at night.

Here was my revision process:

Photo by Author

Photo by Author

Without further ado, here is the final revision of my poem:

My moonbeam shines on your face
While dreams vanish without trace

My sunbeam streams through your window
You toss, turn, and hide under a pillow

My breeze stirs your hair
While you kneel in prayer

My raindrops fall on your head
My tears, your fears soon shed

My moonbeam shines on your face
Day to day, you grow grace to grace

Texting, Chatting and Language

Via Public Domain Photos

I recently read Lynne Truss's Eat, Shoots and Leaves. I laughed reading the book. Like her, I need a permanent marker, paint, correction fluid, and so on to correct all the punctuation mistakes I see. Some "mistakes" are just a matter of style that Truss discusses in her book, especially commas.

I am a mix of a grammar Nazi, word nerd, and descriptive linguist. I watch where language goes and cringe at some usage (not grammar) mistakes. We need to have some structure going forward so we can communicate effectively across the generations.

I first heard about this book during my Modern American Usage class in 2006--the same year the iPhone came out. This book materialized in 2003, during an interesting technological period--texting had just become popular on cell phones, but smart phones hadn't come out yet.

Truss discussed how people thought the demise of language was at hand because of texting and chat room shorthand and emoticons. Not that people will ever stop mourning the demise of language since change is inevitable in a mortal world.

Do you think Neanderthals accused the first Neanderthal who scrawled on cave walls of destroying language?

Smartphones changed the text and chat-room shorthand trend only a few years after the book was written. Soon people switched their flip phones and full keyboard phones for smartphones. I held out for years and only switched to a smartphone 18 months ago.

Smartphones complete our words and sentences for us. Thus, we use shorthand less often, except Twitter and #hashtags. Our emoticons are actual pictures. Now auto correct causes us problems if we accidentally press the send button too soon.

Ah...language and technology.

Maternity Hiatus

"Sleeping Baby" by Anna Langova

Pregnancy wiped me out; thus, I haven't written for months. Since then I have been a zombie with a newborn. I had trouble sitting at the computer during my pregnancy. Now, I have a baby boy in my arms most of the time.

So I had my maternity hiatus. I have been thinking of the word 'hiatus' for awhile to use on this post. Pretty pathetic, I know. Ideas stew in my brain for months sometimes.

Hiatus first entered English to mean a "break or opening" in an object from Latin hiatus. Not until later did it actually mean "a gap or interruption in events" according to a 1610 dictionary.

Hiatus illustrates how a literal meaning can have a sense shift to a non-literal meaning. Meanings are in flux constantly in our living language.

Hopefully, I won't need a longer hiatus and will return to normal writing again.

It took me six months after my third boy to really get writing again. Sleep makes a big difference!

So here's to writing!

Online Eileen Dictionary

The Language of Pregnancy

I am pregnant and in my last trimester. I feel gaggy sitting long periods at the computer, so I haven't written very much.

Pregnancy: nine months a man will never understand

Pregnancy: nine months of the mother's body suppressing the immune system against a foreign object...the baby

Morning sickness: that feeling in the pit of your stomach, rising to your throat, out your mouth and twirling in your head.

Ginger: the pretend spice that's supposed to make me feel better.

Lemonade: all I could drink for 3 months.

First pregnancy husband: held my hair when I threw up and got me a water after.

2nd and 3rd pregnancy husband: got me water to drink after retching

4th pregnancy husband: stays where he is at and occasionally brings me water after. He's at a loss about what to do because he has no control.

Toilet: my best friend.

Chunky, spicy food: my worst enemy.

Bile: the yellow color I see many mornings in the toilet bowl.

Tired: a permanent state of being.

Bending: I could do it two weeks ago.

Group Strep B: Antibiotics pumped into my system until I am dead.

Sugar in urine: watch out gestational diabetes!

Birth: the painful event I dread, but so look forward to. Get this baby out!

Epidural: if the anesthesiologist misses my spine (2nd baby) or causes my blood pressure to drop because he says I don't need a bag of saline solution (3rd baby), I will scream!

I hated the anesthesiologist on my first pregnancy because he was brusque, but he aimed right on the first poke and made sure I had enough saline so my blood pressure didn't drop. Poor anesthesiologists.

2nd pillow: to support my tummy when I lie on my side.

3rd pillow: to put between my legs so my hips stay aligned.

4th pillow: optional pillow to support my back.

Review of "An Unexpected Proposal"

Annette Lyon asked me to review "An Unexpected Proposal" (no money changed hands; just a review copy). I'm having nightmares of AP English and my almost minor in English literature as I think of writing a review for this novella. I must tell myself: this is not a college paper. No one's grading me, just the potential of every human on the planet reading it.

Force Vs. Choice

The juxtaposition of a forced "intimacy" next to chosen intimacy jumped out at me. Forced "intimacy" is an attack, but two people choosing intimacy is love. True love means showing respect for another person's choice, whether they reject or accept the offer of love. Or the case of a marriage proposal for Caroline.

The Details

I enjoyed the historical and descriptive details while reading. As I read "An Unexpected Proposal," I felt cold reading about Caroline up a canyon from Logan, Utah during the winter. Maybe I felt cold because there's snow on the ground where I live.

The moon takes a journey during "An Unexpected Proposal" according to Caroline's mood. First kiss equals a warm glow of the moon. Then the moon turns cold and hard when she's away from her first kiss.

Isn't it funny how we describe inanimate objects according to our own emotions?

Similes

Annette Lyon used similes such as bland as paper and melting romantically as simmering and boiling.

What would I compare bland to? Somehow paper seems to fit so well. I've chewed on some pretty bland paper in my lifetime. So have my boys.

Fantasy Vs. Reality

I enjoyed when Caroline's fantasy bubble popped. After all, reality can be much better. Besides that reality is the only life we'll live. I love the practicality of James complimenting Caroline's "perfect, crisp bacon". Life is practical and magical.

I remember having fantasies of dating and my first kiss. Reality was much more interesting. I had no idea how to kiss and my then-future husband instructed me how to do it. Embarrassing. But I got him back when I spied the price tag on my engagement ring.


 What would be your idea of perfect love? Has reality been more magical than your fantasies?

Ginger Ellen's New Nickname

"Cinderella" by Elena Kalis

This is the first part in a series that I am posting hopefully on a weekly basis. Ginger Ellen is a "ginger" as some call redheads. I prefer being called a redhead. The spice ginger is more yellowish than red-orange. Anyway, this story is meant for fun and not as a polished piece. Enjoy!

Ginger Ellen swung her head back and forth so her red-haired ponytails brushed her cheeks as she skipped to school. She felt the wind come through the holey knees on her pants.

“Mom!” she called back. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Excuse me, dear.” Mom rolled her green eyes and picked up Ginger’s toddler brother. “Greg Elliot isn’t cooperating.” Greg grabbed Mom’s glasses and tossed them onto the gravel.

Ginger Ellen stopped and suddenly snarled. “I’m gonna be late for my first day of first grade at my new school.”

“You’re just going to have to wait.” Mom bent over and squinted her eyes. “Blast it! I can’t find my glasses.” She pawed through the gravel with her free hand while Greg Elliot pulled her brown hair. “Ginger Ellen, I need your help.”

“Whatever, Mom.” She jogged over and picked up the glasses right under Mom’s nose. It had several new scratches.

“They were right there? Oh bother.” Mom grabbed the glasses and shoved them askew on her face. Greg reached for glasses again. “Stop!” Mom slapped Greg’s hand and he howled.

“Let’s go now!” Ginger Ellen ran forward, her worn backpack bouncing in rhythm with her ponytails.

Mom jogged forward and Greg screeched happily with each bounce. Mom smiled at him and then at Ginger Ellen.

Ginger Ellen spotted the school with big crayon pillars. “I can get to school from here, Mom.”

“Are you sure?” Mom stopped. “Do you remember where your class is?”

“Of course.” Ginger Ellen mentally reviewed the place from Back to School night. “Yep. I’ve got it.”

“Okay. Love you.” Mom blew kisses.

“Love you too, Mom.” Ginger Ellen rolled her head back. How often did she have to go through this routine? And it was only the first day of school.

She sprinted forward to the other kids at the crosswalk. She grinned from ear-to-ear at the girl next to her, but the girl looked the other way. Ginger Ellen frowned.

Finally, the crossing guard led them across the street. Ginger gazed up at the tall crayon columns until the crowd bumped her forward. She moved with the crush through the front door.

She looked at the three directions to go. Which way again? She closed her eyes. Yes, it was the hall to her right. She checked her hands real quick. I write with my right hand…so that way.

Ginger Ellen followed other kids into her classroom. She looked around for her name on one of the desks. It wasn’t there! Was she in the wrong classroom?

“Mrs. Miller, where’s my seat?” she approached the teacher.

“Over there, Ginger.” Mrs. Miller pointed to the third desk from the door on the front row.

“But my name’s not just Ginger—”

“Please be seated, Ginger.”

She hung her head down. People never got her name right.

“Hello, class. I’m so excited to get to know you this year.” Mrs. Miller stood behind her desk. “Now, let’s do roll call.” She stooped to reach her laptop.

Ginger Ellen looked at the other kids as their names were called. There were so many new faces.

“Ginger, Ginger…I’m calling your name.” Mrs. Miller looked at Ginger Ellen.

Ginger Ellen snapped to attention. “My name is not Ginger. It’s Ginger Ellen.”

“Okay.” Mrs. Miller typed a note on her computer. “I’ll remember that in the future.”

Other kids giggled behind her.

“Gingerella,” a voice whispered behind her. “Looks poor enough to be Gingerella.”

Ginger Ellen whipped around her head, her ponytails stinging her cheeks. “Don’t call me that!”

“Calm down, class.” Mrs. Miller continued calling names, which Ginger Ellen didn’t hear.

Was she poor? Ginger Ellen looked at the scuffs on her dingy shoes, the holes at her knees, and then looked at another girl. The girl had new jeans sporting butterflies and perfectly white shoes with pink shoelaces.

Ginger Ellen laid her head on her desk and hoped this day would go faster.