224. Language Is Political

If a text appears even slightly political, we approach it with certain expectations. We expect it to take a side, to strongly support one position and argue forcefully against the alternative. We see it as a combatant in a battle with clearly-defined boundaries articulated through centuries of political discourse.

In this discourse, there are always two sides, the good and the bad. The conflict between the two sides is constrained to this binary. Always the argument is for the good side, whatever that might happen to be. Every verbal and factual resource is mustered to tear down the bad side and prop up the good one. The intention is to defeat the bad side by showing it leads to nothing less than moral collapse and ruin, while demonstrating the good side is, in fact, right and good. We’re deeply familiar with this, so we approach such texts with our guard fully raised.

But there are also countless texts that do not take a side and do not enter into this arena. These texts we might label apolitical, for they seem to be about something other than politics. We approach such a text very differently. In particular, we’re more willing to hear it out than if the text were explicitly political.

It is exactly our openness to an apolitical text that gives it power. It seems harmless, which makes it capable of forcing us into contemplation. It can undermine our existing beliefs, operate silently on our values, and subtly shift our opinions. By doing these things, it can foment political change at a much deeper level.

The truth is, of course, there is no such thing as an apolitical text. Everything written is the expression of the writer’s values. Every text contains a way of seeing the world and explores what that perspective means. This happens because language itself is normative and therefore value-laden. To truly escape from the political would require us to stop using language altogether.