Heartbreak isn't created afresh for every new generation. Neither is the concept of “bliss” or “righteous anger.” Whatever clump of meaning “hangry” points to today, isn't different from what a Prussian farmer in 1731 feels after skipping lunch and jamming a shovel in his foot.
Meaning is the fuggy persistence connecting humans across space and time. The universality of meaning provides a foundation for philosophy, logic, and science. Its timelessness is why we can read hieroglyphs (BCE emojis) or feel moved by the paintings at Lascaux. But meaning is inscrutable too, which is why we create things like myth, poetry, art, and Substack to figure it out.
And then there are words.
Words are tragic figures. They resemble us, their mortal creators, more than the eternal concepts they represent. Words can be made and unmade, misused, abused, forced into early retirement, and lost to time.
Meaning is the metaphysical fabric that cloaks our lives and exists independent of words. It is on us, around us, within us at all times. But words are simply the patterns we use to cut the cloth, to make sense of the threads.
Folks say words matter, but today I insist that words are merely matter.
Yes, they can hurt feelings, but they cannot steal your breath. Yes, they can invoke the pain, darkness, and injustice of the world, but they are not the cause or source of such things. Yes, sometimes a slur must be replaced with a fragrant euphemism, but that euphemism will one day sour too.
So remember:
There are no wrong words,
There are no inherently bad words,
There are no words that can harm another human,
But there might be better options.
There are words that can make people feel deep things or face challenging ideas and sometimes that’s the right way to go.
This is not to justify the use of crusty old language. Just a reminder that the world’s problems cannot be solved with strikethrough.
The internet presents the illusion that this is possible, but you are a writer, a brick-stacking mason, not a cop. You have neither the authority to indict dusty language nor the right to condemn those who use it.
But you can show them better options.
Words are the imperfect scribbles we use to feel a little less alone in the world. Like humans, they falter and err. May you learn to forgive them and their creators. Both are mere matter in a universe that is impossible to understand.