"They" Is Bad English and Bad Policy

Karl Muth discusses the reputational, political and gender-related connotations of the use of ‘they’.

The singular plural as “they” has always bothered me, sounding to me like nails on a chalkboard since I was a child. It has long been in my “most hated English phraseologies” category along with people who do not realise that “a lot” should be used as singular (“a lot of people is interested” is correct, rather than “a lot of people are interested”). When someone writes “they” or “their” to mean “him” or “hers,” it strikes me as careless and sloppy; my opinion of the writer drops at the terminal velocity of reputation.

I remember noting the use of "they" and "them" years ago when I joined Facebook (I later quit Facebook, a fantastic quality-of-life decision I heartily recommend). But my opinion of Mark Zuckerberg’s intelligence took a similar nosedive every time I read Facebook items in my newsfeed like, “Tom changed their profile picture.” Not only was this sloppy programming (Facebook has gender data – which was binary at the time – on its users and could easily use the correct possessives and pronouns), but it was sloppy communication. For a company claiming to want to foster community and help people connect with one another, precision of communication should be at the centre of its mandate.

But I write today on a separate issue, which is the unpermissioned or unsolicited use of “they” in the transgender context. I was on Skype a week ago with a friend in Berlin who is trans and he (note “he” and not “they”) noted that different languages deal with this concept differently. I found myself walking to meet a friend for breakfast in Costa Rica the next morning wondering how Latin American Spanish deals with this. I filed this away, however, and focused on the day’s agenda.

The issue reared its proverbial head a week later, when I listened to Terry Gross’s interview with Jill Soloway. I want to preface this conversation by stating three things very clearly and without caveat. 1) I respect, adore, and even envy Ms. Gross’s incredible talents and I enjoy her interviews more than I enjoy nearly any other media I consume. 2) I believe Ms. Soloway offers an important, intimate perspective on the subject matter of her new show and I wish her the best of everything. 3) I write this as critique rather than criticism.

I think a great deal about language. I’ve spent years studying the origin of the English we speak in the modern world today, the words that comprise it, and the usages that reside within it. The default use of the word “they” as a replacement for “he” or “she” without inquiry, permission, or conversation first is not only incorrect, but potentially insulting and impersonal. It is not something those of us who care about LGBTQ rights should practice or encourage as a "default" setting; a variety of words is available and using this particular word may cause difficult and feels an imperfect compromise, which brings me back to Fresh Air.

In the context of the Fresh Air interview [the complete 38-minute interview is available here free of charge], Ms. Gross re-introduces the piece after a break by narrating that Ms. Soloway’s show centres on a father who comes out to “his” children as trans – she is then interrupted and corrected by Ms. Soloway, who suggests “her” children as an edit; the two settle on “their” as a compromise. The exchange is non-antagonistic and even playful, punctuated with laughter, as the two reach this compromise. And that’s exactly what it is: a terrible compromise that both sabotages linguistic precision and relegates the subject of the speech to a “they." About ten years ago, the Oxford English Dictionary published and advisory that I found helpful (though itself imperfect): for a person speaking about another living or hypothetical person to generally use the same gender designation that the speaker would use autobiographically. So, a woman who prefers "she" should use "she" when talking about a person: "If a Fortune 100 CEO were to object to her pay," would be correct for this speaker, for instance, even though the demographics of Fortune 100 CEOs are predominantly male. This was positive in that it eliminated the need for the speaker to attempt to calculate the probability of an unknown individual's gender, but negative in that it imposed the concepts of gender that one might use for self-identity onto the gendering and self-identification of others.

I should raise another issue fundamental and particular to the word "they," however. There is something historically (more than one thing historically, actually) about “they” – whenever it is used in any way other than speaking correctly and innocuously about a group of people – that often suggests the other, the outsider, the distance and differentness that separates the speaker and his or her colloquialist from the third person being spoken about. It creates distance, it suggests unfamiliarity, it is not the right default solution. If someone chooses to be designated as they or them, obviously this is their (note use of their here) initiative, and I would never propose that such a person (or any person) should be described as autobiographically misgendered; however, the presumptive use of this phraseology by others (particularly in the cisgender privilege context) without permission strikes me as potentially-alienating.

This, philosophically, springs from my view that we should not use less sophisticated language to communicate more sophisticated ideas. There is no question that the gender binariness of English is limiting, but using an incorrect word in default is not the solution. Claiming an existing word and giving it a new meaning is fine, but “they” and “their” are simply the wrong words for the media (print, radio, or otherwise) to choose, and their (their referring to the two words, here) use might be limiting, confusing, and counterproductive, particularly when the audience may not appreciate the importance of honouring the subject of conversation's consideration of appropriate biographical descriptions and pronouns. Using “they” by default and without permission to mean a trans person is not a per se case of misgendering, but it is a case of seizing (assuming?), rather than requesting, permission to use a particular linguistic construct.

But this is more than a linguistic issue; it is a policy issue. How we speak of our fellow citizens, residents, and guests (a word I find more pleasant and interesting and descriptive than bureaucratic phrases like "non-permanent-resident immigrants") is more than symbolic, it defines our community. It goes to the very core of our Occidental conceptualisations of meritocratic, liberal society – it affects how we describe each other which, in turn, dictates how we interact. We are social creatures, linguistic creatures, and creatures that give birth to categorisations – we should choose these categories carefully, not carelessly.

Every time a person, speaking without clarification or permission, says “them” to mean “her,” or “they” to mean “him,” or “their” to mean hers, a link in the linguistic chain is weakened. And language is what connects us. It is our duty to oil and inspect that chain, and not to throw saltwater on it.

I did not appreciate the linguistic intersection at which trans conversation and politics exists nearly as well before taking Prof. Elena Gonzales-Polledo’s very fine course at the London School of Economics a few years ago. The course was wonderful and – having written her Ph.D. thesis on the gender politics and enthno-anthropological considerations of transition – Gonzales-Polledo was a delight to hear speak on these issues, including as context for other transitions and status changes not well-sorted by the historical categorisations of prevailing Occidental culture. Many of the linguistic signals for mutual respect and acceptance that are part of this trans discussion should also be part of our immigration discussion, our race discussion, our socioeconomic class mobility discussion, and so on. The fundamental difference between "we" and "they" and the inclusionary and exclusionary aspects of these phraseologies historically should not be ignored or dismissed.

The AP style guide, referenced in turn by most American newspapers editors’ style guides, recommends using “the pronoun preferred by the person in question,” which seems reasonable. But few people would prefer to, without being asked, become a “them” or an “it.” GLAAD’s media guide thankfully does deal with pronouns, and favours pronouns consistent with a person’s gender expression (current gender expression), but few people other than members of the media are exposed to these guides and language use in the broader population is famously inconsistent and heterogeneous.

When in doubt, I suggest academics, policymakers, and mediafolk do what legislators and others have been doing for years: rather than he or she, simply say, “a person” or, even more simply, “one.” If the person is present I do this in my writing and speaking and have encountered zero resistance from others, regardless of their politics. Resorting to misusing “they,” “them,” and “their” without prior discussion or permission is manifestly unnecessary, risks being alienating socially, and remains dubious linguistically.

For more exploration of potential additional English pronouns in this context, click here.