Word origins are fascinating, whether you’re talking about the Latin roots of “Mediterranean” (“center of the world”), the Greek roots of “sarcophagus” (“flesh eater”), or the Persian roots of “seersucker” (“milk and sugar”). Sometimes the base meaning is offensive, as with “hysterical,” which employs a Greek word for the womb (appearing also in the word, “hysterectomy”), implying that this emotional state is more characteristic of women than men. Sometimes it can be gratifying, as when a Stephen discovers that his name derives from a Greek word for “crown or garland of honor.”

The U.S. State Department’s John Robinson recently tried his hand at this enterprise called “etymology” (from the Greek for “actual word”). But it wasn’t just for fun. Robinson was not simply a layman at play with trivia, but an official with power, which he was wielding to stigmatize employees who were insensitive to his speech code. As director of the Office of Civil Rights and the agency’s chief diversity officer, he penned a column with the edgy title, “Wait, What Did You Just Say?”1 In it, he featured four expressions we take for granted, but which (by his light) we shouldn’t.

He suggested that “hold the fort” insulted Indians, against whom the fort was being held; that “rule of thumb” took us back to the day when men could beat their wives with a rod or paddle no thicker than a thumb; that “handicap” pictured a disabled beggar with cap in hand; and that “going Dutch” implied that residents of the Netherlands were cheap.

Though Robinson’s bio shows he was once a dean of some sort at Brown University, he could have done better homework. For instance, the U.K.’s Daily Mail argues that “hold the fort” is more reasonably traced to a Civil War era song written by evangelist Philip P. Bliss.2 And National Review notes that even a little research will embarrass the fictions regarding “rule of thumb” (more naturally referring to rough approximations in building and agriculture) and “handicap” (derived from a gambling game). As for “going Dutch,” it points to the proud thrift of the Germans (the “Deutsch”).3

It’s a shame when we let overwrought sensitivity paralyze speech and villainize good people. It’s one thing to bring harsh judgment to bear on clearly transgressive speech, such as the intentionally abusive racial epithet, but quite another to manufacture offense where none is taken, especially when one enlists falsehoods to do so.

Trying to insulate himself from criticism, Robinson issues the caveat that “this isn’t about [the] historical validity” of his etymologies and speaks guardedly of the “possible historical context.” The point, rather, is consciousness-raising in the interest of greater delicacy. But how do you build a case for responsible speech on fictions, which themselves violate the canons of responsible speech? This won’t work unless feeling rather than truth is deemed the linchpin of discourse.

One might also press Robinson to take his own medicine. After all, his very name is laden with offensive history, with “John” bringing up the exclusive claims of Christ in chapter 14, verse six of the Gospel bearing this apostle’s name; and with “Robinson” recalling the slave trade, whereby captive Africans assumed the names of their American masters. And what of the fact that Robinson’s remarks appeared in the July/August issue? Don’t these months honor emperors of the kingdom that executed Jesus—Julius and Augustus Caesar? And when he speaks of abusive “husbands” instead of the more neutral “spouses,” doesn’t he strengthen the prejudice that men are the masters of their wives? (Just think of the expression, “animal husbandry.”)

Unfortunately, heavy-handed political correctness is not limited to the halls and far-flung posts of the State Department. It is becoming the coin of the realm, from university campuses to corporate boardrooms to playing fields. In such a social environment, it is fair to ask how religious liberty might long endure while the Bible, a book of great offense, stands at the center of worship. What if a non-believer showed up for church and heard Jesus call him a “sinner” (one who has “missed the mark,” from the Greek hamartia) in the morning’s text, Mark 2:17?

Do you hear a siren? Could it be the sensitivity police responding to the call of another “wounded” hearer?

Footnotes:
1
John M. Robinson, “Wait, What Did You Just Say?” State Magazine (July/August 2012), 8.

2
James Nye, “Don’t Say ‘Hold the Fort’ . . . It’s Offensive to Native Americans, Warns State Department Diversity Chief,” Daily Mail Website, August 31, 2012, http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2196425/Don-t-say-hold-fort–s-offensive-Native-Americans-warns-state-department-diversity-chief.html (accessed October 15, 2012).

3
“The Week,” National Review (October 1, 2012), 12.

article adapted from Kairos Journal

First Baptist Church of Perryville is located across from Principio Health Center on Rt. 40 in Maryland.