13 minute read
Word Watch
The Language Police
What happens when we censor our own words — and the ideas they represent? By Jennifer Latson
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You don’t have to ban words to get people to stop using them. That became evident in December, when reports emerged that White House offi cials were preventing health researchers at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention from using hot-button terms like “diversity” and “science-based.” This turned out to be a miscommunication — but one that revealed a great deal about the guarded way we’re using language in these polarizing times. According to the Washington Post’s original story, “The Trump administration [was] prohibiting offi cials at the nation’s top public health agency from using a list of seven words or phrases… in offi cial documents being prepared for next year’s budget.” (The other fi ve words were “vulnerable,” “entitlement,” “evidence-based,” “fetus” and “transgender.”) The truth was more complicated. The “banned words” were not banned at all; they had been changed by the CDC’s own employees to eliminate triggers that might attract the wrong kind of attention from the administration — and get public health projects cut from the budget. In effect, these seven words weren’t the target of an assault from above but friendly fi re from below. By replacing them with euphemisms and abstractions, the health workers revealed their best guesses — and worst fears — about what would rub their bosses the wrong way. It’s not the fi rst time vague wording has made its way into government documents, but as an indicator of a larger trend, it’s troubling. Self-censorship is on the rise in the U.S., according to recent surveys. And it’s a hallmark of institutionalized fear, according to Corey Robin, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College and the author of “Fear: The History of a Political Idea.” We normally associate fear-driven self-censorship with totalitarianism, but it can crop up in democracies as well, Robin explains. Brutal regimes, of course, plant the seeds of fear especially effectively. Robin quotes a psychoanalyst who lived through Uruguay’s military dictatorship during the 1970s. “Our own lives became increasingly constricted,” the psychoanalyst said. “The process of self-censorship was incredibly insidious: It wasn’t just that you stopped talking about certain things with other people — you stopped thinking them yourself. Your internal dialogue just dried up.” This is the danger of restricting speech: When people avoid discussing taboo topics, ideas themselves begin to disappear. Jonathan Zimmerman, a pr ofessor of education and history at the University of Pennsylvania and author of “The Case for Contention: Teaching Controversial Issues in American Schools,” says there’s a crucial difference between choosing our words thoughtfully to avoid demeaning others and constraining our discussion of controversial topics altogether.
These days, he points out, you hear very few racist slurs on college campuses — and it’s no loss that these words have become unoffi cially banned. But the fact that we rarely hear an open debate about affi rmative action is problematic. He was surprised to learn that a recent poll showed that 40 percent of professors oppose the consideration of race in college admissions — a stunning revelation because he’d never heard any of his colleagues voice that opinion.
“Obviously it’s because a lot of us are self-censoring,” he said. “And that can’t be good for the university or for affi rmative action. I’m in the 60 percent: I support affi rmative action. But I understand that it’s diffi cult to do it well and fairly, and we inhibit our ability to do it well and fairly if we can’t speak freely about it.” Free speech is, after all, a hallmark of American democracy, broadly protected by the First Amendment. The Supreme Court has ruled that this protection doesn’t apply to speech that’s likely to cause “imminent lawless action.” But for the most part, using offensive language, including so-called hate speech, is a constitutional right. And the freedom to speak our minds is mostly a good thing, argues Mikki Hebl, a professor of psychology and management at Rice University. “People should be able to speak for actions they believe in. However, I do think there are exceptions, particularly when it is hate speech that is used to terrorize, intimidate, or psychologically harm certain groups of individuals who are protected by laws,” Hebl said. “And there is research that shows that discriminatory speech does psychologically and physically harm individuals.” So what’s the best way to fi ght the more hurtful forms of hate speech? Draconian measures are not always the best, Zimmerman believes: They can actually reinforce the beliefs of people who use derogatory, discriminatory language. And such measures can have a ripple effect, stifl ing speech that isn’t hateful by making certain topics off-limits. A case study in harsh punishment for hateful speech emerged last April, when Harvard University rescinded admissions offers to 10 incoming freshmen who had posted racist and obscene messages on social media. “Their behavior was unacceptable, and there should have been consequences,” but revoking their admission was not the best response, Zimmerman argued in an op-ed for the Chronicle of Higher Education. “My fear was that the penalty would not inhibit the stuff these kids were saying, which should be inhibited, but would inhibit other forms of open public discourse,” he said. “The best reply to bad speech is always more speech, not less.” Surveys confi rm that college students are warier now than ever about voicing an unpopular opinion, but self-censorship isn’t just an issue on college campuses. The rest of us are increasingly wary, too. A 2017 report by The Cato Institute found that
Our own lives became increasingly constricted,” the psychoanalyst said. “The process of self-censorship was incredibly insidious: It wasn’t just that you stopped talking about certain things with other people — you stopped thinking them yourself. Your internal dialogue just dried up. ” “
a majority of Americans — 58 percent — were afraid to share their political beliefs. Why? It’s partly that political debate has become increasingly polarized. A 2014 study by the Pew Research Center concluded that “Republicans and Democrats are more divided along ideological lines — and partisan antipathy is deeper and more extensive — than at any point in the last two decades” — and that was before the 2016 election. The rhetoric embraced by President Donald Trump has only deepened the divide. “We’re being led by a polarizer in chief,” Zimmerman says. “He didn’t create this situation, but he absolutely built on it.” But it’s also true that frank public discussion has become increasingly fraught in the digital age. Another Pew report found that social media users were not only reluctant to express their views online, but had become less likely to share them in face-to-face settings as well. The stakes are higher now if you voice an opinion that a majority fi nds offensive: social media posts endure forever, are easily shareable and open you up to virulent — and viral — public shaming. And the consequences of online shaming aren’t limited to the digital world, as British journalist Jon Ronson writes in “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed:” people have lost jobs, reputations and relationships over things they’ve said on social media. Ronson argues that these consequences are wildly disproportionate to the crime of offensive speech. So what if you’re a Google employee who believes women are biologically ill-suited for roles in tech and leadership (partly because, as Google computer engineer James Damore wrote in a memo last summer, “women are on average more prone to anxiety”)? Should you be fi red for voicing those beliefs? Zimmerman doesn’t think so. And while the professor says some of Trump’s public comments make his blood boil, he doesn’t punish any of his students for agreeing with the president’s political ideas. “What I say in my classes is that anyone can agree with Trump on anything — immigration, China, anything — you just can’t act like him,” Zimmerman said. “You can’t vilify anyone who disagrees with you as beneath humanity. You can’t call women ‘pigs.’ You can say whatever you want to about Title IX
and how it affects women, but you can’t call them pigs.” And according to the Cato Institute survey, most Americans tend to agree that you shouldn’t lose your job for holding an offensive belief. While the Google case served as a reminder that the Constitution doesn’t specifi cally protect free speech in the workplace, there are arguments to be made for allowing employees to voice unpopular views. For one thing, stifl ing free expression can also stifl e innovation and creative problem-solving, as research by Rice Business professors Jing Zhou and Jennifer George demonstrates. They found, in a 2001 study, that disgruntled employees (those with “high job dissatisfaction”) came up with some of the most creative, and the most effective, solutions to workplace problems — but only when they also got “perceived organizational support” and useful feedback from coworkers, in the form of a candid exchange of ideas rather than criticism for an unorthodox opinion. “We found that when employees experienced job dissatisfaction, it was often because they detected problems. Their dissatisfaction could be channeled into creativity — the employees coming up with new and useful ways to solve the problems they detected — if they were reasonably confi dent that voicing their dissatisfaction could bring about needed change,” Zhou said.
“Leaders play a key role in boosting this confi - dence,” she added. “They should seek, encourage and listen to employees’ input, even when (and perhaps especially when) those ideas are different from the views the leaders hold. Otherwise, the leaders and the organizations ultimately lose, because they don’t get creative ideas and solutions from their employees, talented employees may quit and those who stay will do the minimum.” In other words, leaders can make it known that dissenting opinions are allowed by, well, allowing them — and better yet, by encouraging candid debate in which employees are able to agree to disagree. “The most important thing we can do is to try to actually practice free speech, which is different from saying you support it,” says Zimmerman. “Otherwise it’s just an abstraction.” u
On the Move Rice Business Celebrates Partnership with the Forté Foundation
Kendall Toarmina ‘17 Management Consultant, PwC As a Forté Fellow, Kendall Toarmina felt not only supported, but empowered. “The confidence and skills I gained through being a Forté Fellow, and the contacts I made in the program were so helpful,” she says. The combination of Forté and Rice’s MBA program has helped her find career success. “I feel I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.”
Caitlin Crotty ‘17 Senior Consultant, Deloitte “At Rice, you get a strong business foundation,” Caitlin Crotty says. “And as a Forté Fellow, I felt I had a group of women around me encouraging me to be successful.” Today, she focuses on helping clients with supply chain optimization and inventory management. “I love it,” she says of her career. “It’s a great place with great people and I feel so supported and challenged.” By Holly Beretto
It’s been four years since Rice Business and the Forté Foundation joined forces. During that time, Rice Business has awarded 126 Forté Fellowships and solidified its commit ment to supporting women and their journey through the MBA.
“I think it goes to the core of the culture at Rice,” says Sue Oldham, executive director for recruiting and admissions. “It’s always been very giving in its nature. It opens doors for people who didn’t even think there was a door to open. The Rice culture has respect for differ ences and opinions. It’s respect for the unique individual.”
That respectful environment, coupled with academic excellence, makes Rice a natural partner for Forté. The foundation is dedicated to attracting, recruiting, enrolling and graduat ing more women from MBA programs. Its comprehensive program of networking and mentoring events, conferences, webinars and extensive career development seeks to close the gap between the number of women and men earning MBAs (in 2016, according to the Graduate Management Admission Council, 37 percent of full-time, two-year MBA program applicants were women).
Forté partner schools are a select group of institutions — only about 50 — that foster a culture where women are present in the classroom, as students and faculty; take on leadership in student groups; and go on to complete the program and step into positions at leading firms.
Women who are selected as Forté Fellows receive scholarships and access to Forté’s conferences, events and wide-ranging alumni
network, all of which are vital to helping women succeed.
For Caitlin Crotty ’17, being a Forté Fellow wasn’t just a chance to meet fellow women MBAs, some of whom would go on to be classmates, it was a chance to see women in business leadership roles. “Forté has such great women speakers and role models at their events. It allowed me to see lots of different pic tures of what success as a woman in business looks like,” she says.
“The best part of my job is finding potential in people that they may not see in themselves,” Oldham adds. “And then helping them to be aware of what programs are out there. That’s what I love about Forté, just making women aware that this is available to you. You can get this coaching. You can get this preparation. You can get an MBA.”
Kendall Toarmina ’17 earned her undergraduate degree at Rice and was familiar with the business school. She’d been working in the Jones School when she decided to pur sue an MBA, and Rice pointed her to the Forté Foundation, which helped her financially earn her MBA.
“It’s so important that we provide more people these kinds of opportunities, without barriers,” she says. “Forté helped me foster relationships and I see the foundation as a resource. It helps women determine what they need, and how to ask for it, which is so neces sary in recruiting the next generation of MBAs.” Oldham says that in addition to being excellent educational opportunities, MBAs are a transformative experience, and working with the Forté Foundation for the last four years to ensure that more women are taking part in MBA studies has been a source of pride for the school.
“We value this partnership. We spend every year working together, trying to get the mes sage out there to students. We all have the same cause, making sure as many women as possible have the exposure to MBA programs through a great organization like Forté.” u
Laurie Stewart Director of School Relations Forté Foundation “We were thrilled when Rice University’s Jones Graduate School of Business joined Forté as a sponsoring business school in 2014. Since that time, they have been fully engaged as a partner in our mission to launch women into fulfilling, significant careers in business. Rice Business has awarded 126 MBA women Forté Fellowships and Rice MBAs have participated in many Forté programs over the past four years — including the MBA Women’s Leadership Conference and the Financial Services Fast Track. Forté’s corpo rate partners are excited to meet the talented sstudents from Rice at these events.”
Men As Allies Initiative The Forté Foundation’s Men as Allies Initiative provides a comprehensive tool kit that helps men at Forté sponsor schools understand the unique challenges women face in the MBA classroom and in the business world. It’s a program designed to show how men can support women, and partner with them to increase gender equality. This fall, the Jones School launches its own Men as Allies program.
“Our faculty were first to jump on board – no questions asked,” says Oldham. “Scott Sonenshein, Alan Crane and Kevin Crotty have committed to be part of this, even encouraged us to use their names in recruiting other members to the group. We’ll be adding five or six student leaders, and we’re excited to kick it off.”