Changing Words is Hard

 Using the right words is not especially easy. I should know; I help people do that for a living. I also try to make words do things to say stuff and express my feelings. 

Content warning: I allude to slurs in this piece, citing a couple of them, and also discuss ableism.

Sometimes those feelings are angry, contemptuous, dismissive, or that sort of thing. It's useful to have ways to belittle or express aggression towards people - say, for political reasons, or to express helplessness, fear; there's a constellation of reasons to embrace both negative emotions and negative communication. 

When that happens, it's easy to reach for words like "idiot," "moron," "stupid," and other things. But the origins of these words and their deployment in modern speech is often against people with disabilities - or those perceived as inferior. In the same way as calling someone "blind" to express that they're actually being stubborn, making a bad decision, or deliberately ignoring something is actually inaccurate, it also demeans people with visual impairments. 

There's been a popular push to stop using slurs - first and most easily, of course, is the n word (with or without a hard r on the end; if you don't know which word "the n word" is, you're probably beyond my help). The word "retard" and "faggot" are also falling out of use, and have been for the better part of a decade, for good reason. The latter and the n word are used rarely and in acts of reclamation by particular communities - but that's a different matter, and not one that requires policing - least of all, by a white woman, even a queer one. 

The type of language I'm talking about encompasses more than the most infamous slurs, though - it includes more ordinary words, which can easily pass unnoticed for those unaffected by particular traumas.

Why bother?

This probably sounds like needless nitpicking - I'll be honest, I've had that exact thought in the past - but the way we use words and language shapes the way we think. More educated people than myself have talked about this at length.

Although I have sometimes grumbled about this very topic, it ultimately aligns with my principles to avoid ableism and try to reshape my language. One can have a bit of emotional attachment to words - the sharp slap and sting of particular insults and curse words is very pleasing and useful. But what are humans if not innovators? It's one of our primary advantages as a species.

Sometimes it's also useful to reach backwards and time and see if there's anything to offer - generations of teachers have made use of this particular list to engage students' attention, and frankly, it works pretty darn well. Some of these do definitely fall in the "derogatory language" pile, insulting perceived intelligence and whatnot, but a lot of them are pretty darn fun, satisfying, and useful. 

Who cares about this? 

A lot of people, actually. I'm far from the first person to talk about it, but I thought bringing my own perspective to things - and being honest about my own limitations in adopting better language - might benefit some people. I've peppered references and links throughout my essay, as usual, but a quick search of ableist language on Google will reveal millions of hits and articles. A lot of people care about this.

The fact of the matter is, existing with a marginalization or multiple marginalizations makes the world feel like a hurricane of gravel. One gets inured to the storm, but that doesn't mean one's tolerance for pain is endless or infinite. And if we can reduce that careless pain for others - and refine the precision of our own language, expressing more in the process - is there really a downside? Sure, there's some inconveniences, and it's not always comfortable to examine our own internalized prejudices, but the benefits ultimately outweigh the costs. Yes, it's more work. Yes, it's uncomfortable. But not watching friends' shoulders tense up after a casually-deployed slur is rewarding.

Is this censorship?

In a word, no, but let me explain why. First of all, the process of censorship refers to government or organizationally-sanctioned or rejected terminology. In addition to the fact that different groups will reject and accept particular terminology - for instance, conservative groups tend to avoid queer-affirming language when they discuss things like anti-trans legislation - the intent here is to provide tools for anger that do not cause additional harm. 

There is a strong difference between internally rejecting the use of something and being forced to do so by an external body or power. Choosing the words we use is very different from being told we can't use particular words. 

Interestingly, none of the sources or sites or people I've talked to about this issue were against swearing; neither did they express a refusal to tolerate emotional anger or angry expressions. 

To provide yet another comparison, it's a bit like using a focused attack rather than an area-of-effect attack in Dungeons and Dragons - to quote a common internet witticism, "an arrow may have your name on it, but a fireball is addressed 'to whom it may concern.'" Why use a fireball, and risk the chance of friendly fire damage, when we can precisely target our opponent or the source of our frustrations? 

I certainly can't think of a good reason to casually inflict harm on people I care about, and if I can insult someone just a little better, it's going to be more satisfying. 

***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer and editor. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime and their cats. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and learning too much. She is currently working on other people’s manuscripts, the next books in her series, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible.

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Censorship and 'Censorship': Who Gets to Speak?

Hello hello!

In the increasingly surreal absurdist comedy that is current international politics, the issue of free speech has been awfully prevalent. With the new development of sensitivity readers and an outsized backlash to their existence, as well as cries of outrage over the cancellation of Milo Yiannopoulos' book contract, a lot of people have taken these as 'attacks' on free speech. Meanwhile, Beauty and the Beast is being banned from certain theatres because the character Le Fou will be openly gay.

There will be people who say that these actions are on par. Neil Gaiman, who I love and respect, wrote an essay to that effect about nine years ago.

There was a time when I would have agreed with that essay, because after all, who does get to speak? Is there really a difference between public censorship and government censorship? Is refusal of a business to deal with an individual really censorship at all?

The thing is, all taboo or unpopular comments are not created equally. The people who would like to have the freedom, or 'freedom' to support violence and harassment against others are eager to make the claim that they're doing so for the sake of provocation, but it's funny how they never stand up for, say, the gay or 'ethnic' people who are also saying socially unacceptable things.

"Censorship" versus lack of support 

Censorship refers to the practice of an official, government-led organization removing or culling content for the sake of a moral agenda. Refusal to allow a speaker or publish a book due to protesting is not government censorship, it's a decision for the sake of consumers. That's well-trodden ground and I don't plan on tramping it into smoothness yet again. Rather, I'd like to focus on the real issue - that all 'unacceptable' speech, as I'm going to call it, is not created equally and does not come from equally supported, safely-positioned, societally enshrined sources.

Who's the target? 

For a long time, the broad left and the liberal segments of the right have grappled with the idea that people want to voice and discuss things that aren't socially rewarded. Sometimes these things are simple, like, 'black people are treated badly', and sometimes these things are basically underage teen girl porn by famous authors.

There's a certain idea that's been prevalent since the 90s; namely, that offending people is automatically good or moral in some way. In television, from my understanding, there's a weird attitude of equality in terms of who is allowed to be targeted for offensive jokes, which gives the inaccurate idea that all groups have equal weight in choosing targets. With this idea, offending everyone is fine, even moral, because it 'makes people think' or 'shakes them up'.

But pretending that all ugly speech is created equally is a fallacy that has allowed the proliferation of hate speech and violence of various kinds. It comes from the same idea that everyone is born with the same opportunities and advantages, when that simply isn't the case. Black people in the USA die four years earlier than white people, Trans people experience disproportionate rates of mental illness and violence, leading to a shockingly low life-expectancy - roughly age thirty. Simply being born or developing a particular set of circumstances has a drastic effect on people's lives.

It's an ugly but empirically proveable fact that being a woman subjects one to greater risks of sexual violence and limits career advancement, that being transgender has the same results but multiplied, that being disabled in any way  results in a lower lifespan, that being a sex worker carries both danger and stigma, and that being a person of colour, or fitting into intersections of any of these groups, has a magnified effect of inequality. I haven't cited every one of these ideas to avoid turning my post into link soup, but it's not hard to find support for them.

Who gets to say what?

The problem comes from the fact that some people are used to hearing certain things on a regular basis, and some experience disproportionate harm from these things. A black woman listening to a "n---" joke from a fellow black comedian may experience commiseration in the context of talking about a shared experience. The same joke from a white comedian plays into historic and present inequalities, and even if it's intended in a friendly way, can reinforce those inequalities.

With that in mind, considering the audience targeted by a certain piece of art is essential to deciding on whether or not to support that art's expression. The time has come for us to choose which 'free speech' we're going to support, and I personally plan to use the audience and targets to determine the people I'm going to stand behind. The idea of 'punching up' compared to 'punching down' is unquestionably vital here. Sometimes intersectional nuances can make it difficult to choose a side, and in those cases, a full-force attack is less necessary than a careful, mediated conversation. But in a lot of situations, the people experiencing blocks and resistance tend to be those disempowered by social circumstances.

"But everyone protests things!" comes the counter-argument. "We need to be able to say awful things just in case..." 

In Canada, as well as many other countries, hate speech is punishable by law and considered separately from other forms of free speech and self-expression. In the US, that is not the case, and it's because of a refusal to acknowledge that saying ugly things about people who can be harmed by them is different than annoying people.

It's really worth considering why it's so important to demonstrate one's freedoms by vocalizing aggression or violence towards others. Since white people and men in general tend to be protected by social structures and the way laws are enforced, it's vital to realise that things that hurt our feelings seldom hurt us in ways that leave a lasting impact. Feelings do matter, but in the context of violence and poverty, refusing to be criticized because it's annoying seems awfully greedy.

What does this mean for writers? 

Those of us who create content play a role in creating culture itself. Instead of being upset about sensitivity readers, it's better to embrace them and appreciate their role in helping us improve our fiction and ensure its fairness. Sure, there will be times when an issue is nuanced and sticky and effects a couple of groups of people on the sharp end of prejudice, or when people from the same group have multiple differing opinions on content. For example, Asian people are divided over Madame Butterfly and Miss Saigon, which provide casting opportunities but reinforce prejudiced ideas. While it's seldom possible to please everyone, doing the best to satisfy most people, or at least the important people, is generally advisable.

As for situations where portraying a troubled or troubling character is 'part of a story', it's important to think about one's own 'artistic integrity' in the context of the social world we live in. Where have your ideas about this character come from? Art can feel like magic sometimes, but treating it as an uncritiqueable sacred cow both cheapens its quality and lets creators get away with not challenging themselves or their beliefs. At the end of the day, it's not easy to strive for equality, but it's the right thing to do in so many ways - and that's why I support some forms of challenging media and art, and refuse to support others. Milo Yiannopoulos can get phuqued.

***

Thanks for returning to the nest. Leave a comment and say hi! I want to hear from you. Keep up with the new releases by getting on the mailing list. Buy my books on Amazon, and keep up with me on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and the original blog. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!

Trigger Warning: A Dissection and Confession, Part 1

Hello hello!

Today I'm going to talk about something ugly and difficult. Consider yourselves warned. But before I talk about trigger warnings and Trigger Warning, let's define the terms of battle.

What's a trigger, exactly? 

"Trigger: an event or circumstance that is the cause of a particular action, process, or situation.

• "the trigger for the strike was the closure of a mine"

In mental health terms, the action, process, or situation resulting from a trigger tends to be panic, anxiety, anger, or even violent defensiveness. The trigger itself can be just about anything, but the most common triggers tend to be related to violence or abuse.

Triggers are often connected to other symptoms of PTSD, but can appear independently, the invisible scars of trauma. They aren't the same as a Garcia Effect-coded food or experience, such as--in my face--honey-dipped hazelnuts, on which I once ate myself sick. (The Garcia Effect is responsible for ruining a food once you've gotten sick from eating it: one of the brain's adaptive measures to keep the body safe in a world full of potentially contaminated food and toxins.) A trigger is not the same as a phobia, although it can activate the phobia reaction. For example, two people with a spider phobia might react to it differently--one might have a phobic reaction on seeing a picture of a spider; the other might have the reaction only when in the presence of a spider.

The (not) wonderful thing about triggers 

The second thing to know about triggers in the real world is that they are sometimes reasonable and sometimes absurd. Some are reasonable, such as violence, car crashes, decapitation, and sexual assault; some are small, like the words "bitch", "fuck", or "psycho".

I know this mix of absurdity and logic in triggers too well. Some, like being ganged up on in a discussion or being in the centre of a circle of people who are annoyed at me, are 'sensible things' to be afraid of. Some of mine involve apparently innocuous situations. Being in all-female groups, for example, or being in a space with no hiding areas, or having someone sharply criticize the very short List of my favorite people/things (Neil Gaiman, Leonard Cohen, Neko Case, John Green, and Farscape) can throw me into a bout of nausea and panic.

For people who don't experience panic attacks or phobias or traumatic flashbacks, trigger warnings seem ridiculous: like impedimentia, rather than useful, helpful tools. When trigger warnings first caught academic attention, and wider internet attention, they got abused on Tumblr and drew ire and panic on forums. A lot of us (myself included) thought proper use of trigger warnings would lead to a spoiler-riffic, dystopian, creative hell. More on that later.

What's the big deal?

There was a time when I thought they were ridiculous. An attempt to keep people from their emotions, from dealing with things properly. I got fooled into believing the rhetoric some people were espousing, suggesting that trigger warnings would balloon out of control and end up spoiling novels, ruining all discussions, and basically leading to the end of intelligible discourse in classrooms and forums everywhere. Some survivors (!) called trigger warnings ableist, some said that triggers were too arbitrary to pin down, citing things like the smell of paint or breakfast or a certain shade of orange; a lot of other people called them absurd, and so on and so on, in circles. A few people took a more moderate response to the faddish appearance of trigger warnings, but in response to this extreme climate, Neil Gaiman announced the title of his next story collection would be Trigger Warning.

When I heard about that title, though, instead of rejoicing in the stick-it-to-the-man potential, I cringed. That was after I realised I had my own triggers, and after I had developed close friendships with a lot of survivors. I'd been reacting to things as though triggered, but not having the vocabulary for it made it hard for me to protect myself, and even to know when I was being unreasonable.

Wat do: the musical

So what does one do, then? Avoid the potentially problematic work, which lurks like a shark in the ocean at the end of the lane, or risk pain and suffering by facing the thing head on? In my case, Trigger Warning was a persistent itch. Today, I caved and bought a copy. I have not yet read the stories; only the foreword, which tackled the rationale for the title.

It wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but it was better than I feared. It tackled that triggers are not a punchline or an absurd thing made up for the sake of attention and tone-policing--well, it didn't address those last two directly, but it did validate their existence. I can tell Gaiman either isn't a person who struggles with triggers, or else has a different cultural perspective on them from what I'm used to. And then I managed to read an essay criticizing the book's approach, and even discuss it with my editor and some friends--without panicking or falling apart. Okay, so I almost fainted in the shower afterwards--but it didn't derail my day or make me curl up and cry, something that happened during a nasty attack two weeks ago. Baby steps, to be sure. But steps.

But this paragraph, the closer, imperfect as it is, gives me comfort. It could be read sarcastically, but I interpreted it as sincere. A corner of comfort is a good start, but there are other books that have not been labelled which perhaps should have been.

"There. Consider yourself warned. There are so many little triggers out there, being squeezed in the darkness even as I write this. This book is correctly labeled. Now all we have to worry about is all the other books, and, of course, life, which is huge and complicated and will not warn you before it hurts you."

And yet, people still complain when a trigger warning shows up, complaining that it limits their freedom or that it's distracting. The thing is--do we want to cater to people who want to pretend they haven't been hurt, or help the people who have been hurt to brace themselves?

The thing to know about triggers is that they are basically pressure points. We all--from the angriest Men's Rights Activist, to a survivor and pro-choice activist, to a socially isolated government clerk, to a homeless person couch-surfing until they can make ends meet--have pressure points. We all have demons in the dark. So if you, too, are one of the people skeptical of the utility of trigger warnings, especially simple, general advisories like "Mature and violent content" or "warning: explicit description of child abuse", try to think about your own pressure points. Try to remember the last time something apparently arbitrary brought back a memory, and made you cry or panic or burn with rage. Remember the last time you felt out of control, or laid in bed and stared at the ceiling because it was absolutely impossible to imagine doing anything.

The Thought Police are not coming for anyone, and there are no Compassion Police to make us treat each other with sympathy. We ourselves have to take responsibility--for the sake of those who can't, but also for the many more who are trying.

The weirdest thing, though, is that having trigger warnings actually improves our ability to speak freely, rather than restricting it.  Yes, Virginia, you can have your cake and eat it too. How? That's coming up in part 2.

***

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Leave your comments, rebuttals, and vehement agreements below. Don't miss any of the phuquerie--get on the mailing list. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out! 

Trigger Warning: Tagging vs Censorship, Part 2

Hello hello!

So, in the last post, I tackled the scary issue of trigger warnings. In case you don't feel like reading the last post, or found it confusing, let's define what a trigger is once again.

Triggers are often connected to other symptoms of PTSD, but can appear independently, the invisible scars of trauma. They aren't the same as a Garcia Effect-coded food or experience, such as--in my face--honey-dipped hazelnuts, on which I once ate myself sick. (The Garcia Effect is responsible for ruining a food once you've gotten sick from eating it: one of the brain's adaptive measures to keep the body safe in a world full of potentially contaminated food and toxins.) A trigger is not the same as a phobia, although it can activate the phobia reaction. For example, two people with a spider phobia might react to it differently--one might have a phobic reaction on seeing a picture of a spider; the other might have the reaction only when in the presence of a spider.

The practical upshot of this, then, is that seeing something or reading about it can be not only upsetting, but disruptive to someone's life. Put bluntly, they can make someone likely to perform a compulsive behavior, cause a panic attack, or just leave someone curled up and crying on the floor for an afternoon. People who aren't subject to triggers but are still bothered by things can use those tags to determine the kind of experience they want to have. For example, the #NSFL (Not Safe for Life) tag on Reddit and elsewhere often denotes disturbing content, gross things, gore, and that sort of thing. #NSFW (Not Safe for Work) usually means swearing, violence, or sex are involved.

The value of transgression

If the sound of sex, violence, profanity, and disturbing content intrigue you, you've just discovered the upside of tagging. By explicitly mentioning these elements in a book's blurb/back cover summary, authors can help readers get a clear idea of the experience they'll have--and help readers who want to be responsible for their own mental health, or who are vulnerable, to keep themselves safe.

There is an urge and a push in the anti-trigger community to tear away these labels because of an urge to shake people up and scare them. Mostly, this is targeted at those who are not survivors. I understand the impulse, but we've reached a point in culture where being provocative doesn't require being irresponsible. In 1990, the sight of Madonna air-humping a bed was worrisome enough that a police presence appeared at one of her Toronto shows, wanting to arrest her. Now, the things people overlook and ignore for their own comfort are things like racism.

The downside

People do sometimes get overly enthusiastic or overly concerned about tagging issues. Sure, it can sometimes impede communication. But generally, the people who are most concerned about overtagging things are the people outside the survivor communities. If we want to find a happy medium, we have to a) put survivors in a position of authority when it comes to discussing these tags and labelling methods, and b) avoid falling into discussions of "theoretical" triggers. These conversations about tagging things for "warning: contains peeling paint" and "warning: contains breakfast" are often derails, and don't reflect that triggers often involve multi-sensory experiences or specific situations. I see a lot of conversations take this tactic. Ultimately, unless we listen to survivors, we won't know how to approach things, and finding a happy medium that doesn't frustrate authors and artists but still serves survivors is going to be a process.

Some people do see labelling as censorship, which is inaccurate. "This is the work of The Establishment," they cry, shaking fists, "and we won't take it!" But this is deceptive, and actually a bit archaic. Sex and violence are pretty normalized. It's hard to shock people at this point. Even so, there's a difference between shocking someone who is able, well, and sheltered, and tricking someone into suffering a mental health event. Trigger warnings don't need to be detailed in order to give people an idea that they need to prepare themselves or avoid the content. Even a simple, vague "disturbing content warning" is better than nothing at all. At worst, it whets the appetite of the curious. The battleground has shifted, and maintaining the old way of not-labelling things with trigger warnings is honestly the best way to prove oneself a conservative. The issues that make people angry aren't just explicit sex and swearing--they're issues of diversity, entrenched power structures, sexism, ableism, and all the rest. If your urge to avoid trigger warnings comes from that impulse to rebel--you need to up your rebellion game.

So what the hell should I label? Everything? 

There's a big four that often require labelling for triggers--suicide/self-harm, abuse, graphic violence, and sexual assault. Harassment and bullying are also often tagged these days, but really, those fall under the abuse heading. Most people can see why in-depth coverage these four topic groups would be upsetting or might induce a panic attack.

Some people take content warnings and trigger warnings quite far, and the outcry to label everything sometimes ends up reflecting insulative elements of white, straight, able, or cis privilege. "I don't want to watch this! It has gay people in it!" (Ask me how many times I've had my work tagged with completely unnecessary trigger warnings just because it included consensual, loving f-f sex. Yes, this has happened. And boy, does it piss me off.)

Content warnings do get abused by conservative outlets in an attempt to bubble-wrap the world and make it safe, but that's absolutely not the same as a trigger warning. As always, actions are defined by their context, and the outcry against all trigger warnings and content warnings sometimes becomes a way to tear down safe spaces. People who are used to imposing their will on others, or are trying to define their own boundaries, often end up clashing.

But as I promised, content warnings do have some benefits. Enter, from stage left, the fanfic writers.

What does fan fiction have to do with content warnings? 

Fanfic is known for its vast oceans of tags and weird sex scenes. However, fanfic writers get away with writing about incest, hardline and scary BDSM, sexual assault, and the worst romantic pairings imaginable because there's a culture of consideration in the community. People tag things so that someone looking for a sweet John Watson/Sherlock romance won't accidentally stumble onto an anal training and puppy play capture fantasy. But this appropriate tagging has led to a freedom that's allowed authors to do anything they want, basically, and that also means that they can meet even the most unusual needs their readers present.

Tagging means freedom

I will rep for "freedom of icky speech". While we do need to be somewhat intolerant of intolerance, and actual hate speech needs to be condemned, there is a large, vast ocean of people saying and doing weird and sometimes terrible things. But if we want to fix the terrible things, we need to talk about them and to criticize them. And the alternative to not tagging them is what Amazon's done--simply removing books that "violate its terms of service" because they contain "offensive content". The problem with that is that it's just plain old censorship, and it's caught some books that depicted the experiences of survivors in the crossfire.

Simply surprising people with disturbing content is no longer an option. It was permitted in the past, but so were a lot of other things, like minstrel shows and keeping women out of certain clubs. The old way isn't going to work, and if we can protect people without silencing ourselves or our artistic intentions--why not?

***

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Leave your comments, rebuttals, and vehement agreements below. Don't miss any of the phuquerie--get on the mailing list. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!