A few months ago I heard a report that "bombs were falling" on a city. I found the phrase "bombs fall" disturbing. Rain falls. Snow falls. And while it is true that a part of what a bomb does is obey gravity, explosive devices are targeted by someone, fired by someone, and the destructive blast is experienced by people.
Words matter. They can illuminate reality or hide intention. A couple of weeks ago I shared a Facebook post that suggested changing some of the words we use to talk about the environment. Someone argued with the post, objecting to an arbitrary shift in words. It is too bad that the person who objected and I had a conversation in short bursts of posts rather than in person. In that format it was hard to wrestle with their concern that language requires consensus, that arbitrary redefinition creates confusion.
While it is true that for meaning to be conveyed there needs to be some consensus, a person can choose to shift the words they use. I remember when a waste disposal company "rebranded" their company. They painted their garbage trucks green and called themselves "Green for Life." If these had been recycling trucks or compost collection trucks, I would not have objected. But they were trash collectors. They were taking garbage to landfill sites. The new name implied a contribution to environmental restoration, when all they were doing was ensuring garbage didn't pile up on town streets. The company may participate in more environmentally friendly actions as well, but the name still bugs me even though it does not mask the purpose of the trucks.
I would like to look at some of the suggestions made in the post that I shared. It was written by Guardian columnist George Monbiot, and Ralph Steadman. If you want to look at the chart they put together, I posted it on my Facebook page. Just search for "Cathy Hird." I failed to find the original, but in the search I came across two amazing women activists and their work defending this living earth.
The first phrase that jumped out at me was "fish stocks." The two men argue that this implies that wild fish are out there waiting to be caught for food. They suggest "wild fish populations." I find this helpful. Instead of lamenting that the drop in the number of fish diminishes what we can eat and hurts the industry, this descriptor asks people to think about the way human actions affect wild fish that are going about their own business.
The two have a similar concern with "natural resources," because this implies the things we harvest from the land and water are there waiting for us to take them. "The earth's fabric" might feel new and awkward to use, but the phrase reminds us that what we take belongs first to the earth itself.
Another shift they suggest is from "clean rivers, clean seas" to "thriving rivers, thriving seas." The two suggest that "clean" ignores the living nature of the habitat. In this case, I might argue we want to use both. The goal is thriving rivers. To achieve that goal we have to keep waters clean, stop putting gunk from industry and town into the river.
"Global warming" sounds pleasant. What we are living is more fluctuation, intense storms like Cyclone Ida, the long droughts. These are better called "global overheating". And "climate change" is really "climate chaos." I also think that choosing words that show the human cause of this change is helpful. Climates have changed over the eons, but this one is a consequence of human actions.
The two men find "conservation" and "sustainable development" difficult because of the amount of destruction and species loss that has occurred. We are in a position to need "restoration" and "regeneration" to rebuild and stabilize communities of living beings.
It takes a lot of energy to think about every word we use. And if we speak in non-traditional ways it takes energy for the person listening to understand what we mean. It would be faster to use conventional language. But rebuilding ecosystems, protecting wild-life and the earth's structure will take a lot of attention and energy. Spending some on words and attitudes can't hurt.
Cathy Hird lives on the shore of Georgian Bay.
