Is It Really That Hard? Understanding and Addressing the Hidden Histories in Everyday Language

Disclaimer: themes and topics in this post will cover sensitive topics related to language stemming from colonization, racism and systemic inequities. Please read at your own discretion.

I was walking with some friends a couple weeks ago, and we got to talking about words and phrases that seem innocuous but have a... violent... history. The example I learned that night was "rule of thumb." Its origin is debated: one theory traces it to an old principle that a man could beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb, another (more benign) theory refers to brewers using their thumbs as a rough measurement.

Disputed origins or not, it doesn't change the underlying point: violent and polarizing language is deeply embedded in the way we talk every day.

Vernacular means the everyday language, or spoken expression, used by ordinary people in a specific region or group; these are the words we have picked up from our spheres and environment like home, school, and work. These are the words we use without thinking, and it's exactly that automatic quality that makes the histories inside them so easy to miss.

During my time with the BC Ministry of Health, there was a list of words that we were advised to avoid due to the historical inequity the words are rooted in. Stakeholder was a word we were advised to stay away from because of the way colonialists would stake and claim land by force from Indigenous people. We were encouraged to use the word partner or key interest holders instead to help bring people together.

I'll admit that that habit didn't stick when I moved back into consulting. Stakeholder is so engrained in our working vernacular that using an alternate word caused more confusion than support. It was easy to slip back into old habits.

The substitution that did stick, for me, was master. I try to use primary or main instead for workshop decks, for spreadsheets, and wherever the word would otherwise default in. A couple years ago I read an article from Planet Word that has stayed with me. Its argument, roughly, is that words don't carry weight in the abstract, they carry weight in use. The history of master isn't dormant just because we've forgotten where it came from; every time we reach for it, we're reaching through that history. That reframe was what made the substitution feel worth the effort.

This matters more than personally, especially in the work I do. Humber College has published a thorough inclusive language guide that I've found useful when building things for clients, specifically in patient-facing work, where we're often designing for people coming from all walks of life, living with various disabilities. The language we choose shapes whether someone feels seen as a person or labeled as a condition. In that context, word choice isn't decorative. Language becomes part of the design.

If it's useful, I'd like to provide you with a starter list for your own corporate vernacular deconstruction journey: the words and phrases I've been using and trying to restructure for myself. Humber College does a much better job here, they're the experts. I'm just passing along what I've picked up along the way.

Current Word/Phrase	Reframed Word/Phrase
Stakeholder	Partner, collaborator, contributor, key interest holder, interested party
Master (deck, copy, file, list)	Primary, main, source, original
Master / Slave (in tech, coding)	Leader / Follower, Parent / Child
Blacklist / Whitelist	Blocklist / Allowlist, Denylist / Allowlist
Grandfathered in	Legacy, pre-existing, carried over, exempt
Powwow	Huddle, sync, quick meeting
Spirit Animal	Favorite, alter ego, mascot, role model
Uppity (historically used as a slur)	Arrogant, pretentious
Crazy / Insane	Wild, intense, absurd
Kill two birds with one stone	Feed two birds with one scone

Now this list isn't exhaustive, but should help get you started.

You might be asking yourself: "who cares? Nobody means those awful things anymore...that's why we still use the words." I hear that. The skepticism isn't unreasonable, especially when language change can feel performative or imposed from the top. But I'd ask you (and myself): is it really that much effort to use a different word? What if it means a colleague, a friend, a patient feels more at ease? What if another word builds a little more trust?

Is it really that hard to be better allies to one another, in a world that wasn't built for people outside the stereotypical corporate fit?

Is it really that hard? Ask yourself that before you build your next "master" deck or email another "stakeholder."

Thank you,

Caleigh

Disclaimer:

AI was not used in the writing or creation of this post. I use Grammarly for grammatical and spelling corrections.