After consistent losses, Republican senators met behind closed doors to consider a shift away from using the term “pro-life” to describe their stand on abortion.
They studied poll results that showed that, after last year’s Supreme Court decision overturning Roe v. Wade, “pro-life” no longer resonated with voters. Their strategists suggested that “pro-life” now seemed to mean being against all abortions. Pro-choice was a more attractive, more inclusive term that could mean many things. So, losing in election after election all over the country, the people have spoken. Republican leaders did not meet to change their position on abortion. Republican leaders met to change the word describing their position. As their numbers plummet, the Republicans might have spent their time better weighing their position on abortion, but they were not wrong about words.
Words are defined as “units of language … that can be combined to form phrases, clauses, sentences, and paragraphs. They are used to communicate ideas, thoughts, feelings, and information.’’ Indeed, words are that and so much more. Words are powerful. They convince. People positioned on every part of the political spectrum agree: Words matter. When asked if there really is magic, J. K. Rowling wrote, “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.”
Words can enlighten, enliven, and heal. We can put our deepest vulnerabilities into words and share them. If we are lucky enough to have a sidekick, our buddy will respond with words that sooth and strengthen. That is magic.
Put them together just right—in short phrases or long form—and words can move mountains.
“Yes, we can.”
“We shall fight them on the beaches.”
“We won’t come back ’til it’s over, over there.”
“This generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny.”
Words quicken the heart and stir people to action.
The Republicans may think short and pithy like “pro-life” wins the day; however, problems are nuanced, and the best, most honest response is not short and snappy. Aaron Sorkin, a wordsmith of the first order, suggested there are no 10-word answers. “What,” Sorkin asked, “are the next 10 words?”
Pro-life? Whose life, the mother’s or the fetus’? Under what circumstances? Even when only one can thrive? Even when the pregnancy was the result of violent assault? Even when the mother is a minor?
I love words. I use words. I respect those who use them well. I am deeply concerned about those who use words nefariously—to trick, misinform, obscure, and incite.
Today the leading cause of death among American children and teens is firearms, and yet some call gun control laws “a sacred privilege enshrined in the Constitution, a privilege not to be infringed upon.”
Today prices are so high that some are forced to choose between medication and food, and yet some call measures to control drug prices “socialism” and “a federal government power grab.”
Even as Biden did more in two years than many presidents accomplished in two terms, the Republicans call him too old to do the job.
Words matter. What do they mean by old? Old and wise? Old and seasoned? Old and experienced?
In August, Bill Press wrote a piece about the danger of using words without doing your homework. House Oversight Committee Chair James Comer (R – Kentucky) and House Judiciary Chair Jim Jordan (R – Ohio Fourth District) promised to prove that Hunter Biden was a crook and that his father, then-Vice President Joe Biden, benefited from Hunter’s iniquitous deeds in foreign climes. They had a witness! They had three little words: Biden crime family.
The witness would testify that Biden altered U.S. policy to benefit his son. Their witness, Deon Archer, testified, “I have no basis to know if he [the Vice President] altered policy to benefit his son … I have no knowledge … [I only heard the Vice President] you know, discuss just general niceties and, you know, conversation in general about the geography, and the weather.”
In sum, instead of proving the House Republicans’ case against Joe and Hunter Biden, Devon Archer, under oath, destroyed it. Press suggested they should be embarrassed. Press suggested it was time for Comer and Jordan to fold their tent and move on.
They did not move on. After five years of investigation, they wanted to investigate some more. Why? It’s about words. If you wish to use words to twist meaning, as long as the investigation is open, you might say, “the investigation into the Biden crime family continues”— expressing a fact and leaving the wrong impression.
Trump said, “Just say that the election was corrupt and leave the rest to me.”
The Acting Director of the Justice Department declined. He would not say the words. Instead, he said, “When you damage our fundamental institutions, it’s not easy to repair them.”
In the universe of Rowling’s “Harry Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, “[Words are] capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.”
Our country has been injured by words; let’s use our best words to repair it.
