The virus makes me cranky for many reasons, one of which has
to do with the way our language is changing.
I hear people speaking about how things will be when we get “back to
normal,” and, in my cranky way, I feel obliged to point out that “back” and
“normal” are words which must be removed from our everyday lexicon because we will
not be going back anywhere, and because what once was normal was
often not good for a great many people. Nor for the environment.
At the same time, we are having to get used to a batch of new
words: self-isolating, curve-flattening, social distancing, infodemic,
covidiots, doomscrolling, etc.
With the virus numbers rising it’s hard not to get into doomscrolling,
while we try to sort through all the disturbing news and conflicting
information. As Nicole Ellison pointed out in a recent
issue of Wired Magazine, there's a “lot of demand on cognitive
processing to make sense of this. There’s no overarching narrative that helps
us.”
Our activities continue to bring us new words. Many of us are
spending a lot of time zooming and hoping to stay away from zoombombers
and, at the end of the day, needing to settle down with a couple of quarantinis.
Even the Oxford English Dictionary broke its usual cycle of
adding new words every four months so as to add a slate of new words and terms which have come
into use during the coronavirus outbreak:
It’s understandable that, at this time of unprecedented
change, new words become necessary. We need to change with the new world and
the new words.
What I don’t like is the way some old words are being used. My
friend Bill drew my attention to the overuse of the word pivot, for
instance. Until now it was used primarily to describe the central point on which
something turns or oscillates and, only secondarily, as a verb meaning to
turn, as if on a pivot. It was used infrequently. Now any change is called
a pivot, and the word appears so frequently in news about politicians that
most public figures appear to be whirling dervishes.
We are dealing with constant change, and maybe we're all feeling
and behaving like dervishes these days.
I’m now described as compromised, because of my
respiratory and cardiac issues. Compromise used to mean a
settlement of a dispute or accepting standards that are lower than desirable.
Sometimes it meant the weakening of principles, or a shameful or disreputable
concession.
These days it’s used primarily to refer an impairment to the
immune system. People worry about visiting me or having me participate in
certain activities because I am compromised. They check up on how I am
doing because I am compromised. I’ve
heard the word compromised more in the past 5 months than in more than 7
decades, and I don’t like it.
It implies that someone is fragile and vulnerable, which is
not how I like to think of myself. Nor do I think of myself as a person who easily lowers her standards.
On the contrary, with regard to the virus, I respect the
advice given by our health professionals and I follow the rules. I won’t
compromise my principles. On these, I will not pivot.
Do new words and changed usages really matter? Probably not.
Language evolves, and we must evolve with it. I’m ready to make that
concession. I’ll make that compromise.
But I myself refuse to be considered compromised.
And covid crankiness encourages
me to complain about it.
A little crankiness never hurt anyone, Carol😉
ReplyDeleteThanks, Pam, old pal. Happy Monday!
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