By Sam Baker, KERA Morning Edition Host
http://stream.publicbroadcasting.net/production/mp3/kera/local-kera-693507.mp3
Dallas, TX –
I regret to report that our Texan language, Linguisticus Texanicus, once simple and precise, vivid with inflection and, I think, beautiful, has become Linguisticus Genericus, a language I no longer understand.
A ubiquitous symbol of this epidemic is the replacement of "problems," meaning "obstacles to overcome," with "issues," meaning something "coming or going forth." I asked Bryan Woolley about this. He's an expert on Linguisticus Texanicus. His Texas books and newspaper writings over the past half-century set standards for the rest of us. He believes that "problems" had been determined to be too negative for the happy corporate family.
As I do, he sees it as an example of the draining of meaning out of the language. George Orwell warned of this in his essay, "Politics and the English Language." Orwell's point is that slovenly language has political and economic causes and the first step in political and economic renewal is to think clearly. Clear thinking requires precise language. Use the right word, not its second cousin, Mark Twain wrote in "Finimore Cooper's Literary Offenses." "Issues" is a second cousin of "problems."
I don't blame the millions of newcomers for the diminution of Linguisticus Texanicus but it has been my experience that they now occupy most positions of state power. Put simply, those in power now no longer talk like Lyndon Johnson, Ann Richards, and John Connally, who would never have said "Texas is experiencing border issues" or "credit issues," or any other such unctuous expressions.
My grandfather did not have issues. He had many problems though. Drought was a problem. No rain, no cotton. No cotton, no money for school shoes, maybe no food or shelter. Overcoming problems made you a stronger person. And so, for me, when it's necessary to describe grave circumstances, "issues" just can't cut it. After all, as Bryan told me, the Apollo 13 astronaut, deep in space with a gash blown in the side of his capsule, didn't say, "Houston, we have an issue."
With the subrogation of "issues" for problems, though, we are supposed to be happier. Issues are but vague displeasures or abstract matters that can be resolved by "making better choices." Or maybe they don't have to be resolved at all. Maybe talking about them is enough.
If, for example, you have to buy your britches at the Big Tex Wardrobe Warehouse, you're not fat. You have "weight issues." When you're $80,000 behind on your Mastercard you have "credit issues." And, hey, you're not bankrupt, you have "cash-flow issues." Your children are not flunking in school. They have "grade issues." And so on.
Okay. Language changes or it dies. But, historically, language changes had etymological explanations, like, say, "shipper" becoming "skipper," due to a consonant substitution. Or "shire reeve" becoming "sheriff" because of word blending. There are thousands of logical reasons for language change.
I suppose "problems" metamorphosing into "issues" is simply a euphemistic phenomenon.
Again, the dictionary defines "issue" as "going or coming out, flowing or proceeding." A child or heir, for example, would be an issue. Lawyers still use this original meaning in wills. Intestate means that someone has died "without issue," meaning children. I won't explain the literal derivation of "intestate."
Which leads to a final defining absurdity. A new mother was quoted in the newspaper as saying she had an in vitro baby because she experienced "fertility issues." I think she meant conception problems because, by definition, a "fertility issue" is, you guessed it, a "baby."
Tom Dodge is a writer from Midlothian and a former English instructor at Mountain View College.
If you have opinions or rebuttals about this commentary, call (214) 740-9338 or email us.