Words can mean more than intent

By Roey Rahmil

Words have meaning. Language has effect. While it's important to keep these in mind, it's so easy to ignore. Worse yet, it's all too easy to abuse. Two recent examples illustrate this.

Two weeks ago, The Santa Clara ran a headline pronouncing "other" Greek organizations, namely, multicultural fraternities and sororities. Simultaneously, during the campaign for Associated Students freshman senate, a candidate used the phrase "not a sissy" as part of his advertising. These incidents demonstrate that being careless with language can have (hopefully unintended) negative results.

In the first case, The Santa Clara used the word "other" -- complete with scare quotes -- to describe organizations populated mainly by students of color. At first glance, this might seem acceptable. But look deeper. What does "other" really mean? It means different; it means frightening; it means lower.

University of California, Berkeley, law professor Kathryn Abrams writes that those who are " 'otherized' -- that is, characterized as being as alien and non-normative as possible â?¦ (have their) value or function â?¦ depicted only in relation to the dominant group."

The Santa Clara's choice of language reinforced that process. The headline implied that multicultural fraternities and sororities are not notable in and of themselves, but only because they contrast with the campus' larger Greek organizations. Now, the newspaper may not have intended that result, and the headline writer likely had no malice. But using the word "other," with the quotation marks, sent that message.

In a second case, Associated Students Freshman Senator Jake Lyssy ran on the campaign slogan that he is "not a sissy." "Sissy" started as a term of endearment for one's sister. Now it means an effeminate man. Thus, Lyssy's campaign slogan actually meant "Vote for me because I'm not like a woman." The message doesn't end there. Linda Garber, director of the women's and gender studies program, described why it's so offensive. "People who get called sissies are gay men."

So, the slogan also meant "Vote for me because I'm not gay." But it's worse than that. In its history, "sissy" has been a common slur used against gay men. According to Garber, " 'Sissy' is what people get called before they get cracked in the head with a baseball bat." The term "sissy" is more than just a playful insult. This whole incident evokes memories of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger's marginalizing "girly man" comment, in which he criticized opposing state legislators by questioning their masculinity. Using language like this stigmatizes people for no other reason than that they are a little different. It ridicules people for legitimate choices, and devalues anyone who chooses not to conform.

But, you might ask, can't this politically correct language go too far? No, it can't. Saying, "That's just political correctness," isn't an argument against anything. It's merely a way to shove aside any meaningful criticism. A better version of the argument would be "But I didn't think it was offensive to anyone." But that point of view is exactly why offensive speech is so insidious. Unless you're conscious of it, or a member of the group it targets, it seems invisible -- it fades in with the rest of our daily language.

"It's so pervasive that we don't even hear ourselves," said Garber. Hateful phrases have become common expressions (Witness, for example, the harmful saying "that's so gay"). And as long as those expressions stay commonplace in our language, we have a responsibility to acknowledge what they really mean.

I'm not calling anyone at The Santa Clara a racist, and I'm not calling Lyssy a sexist or a homophobe. I'm just calling them careless and oblivious. They were careless with the language they chose, and oblivious to the impact it had upon our community. And the solution to this problem isn't to ban their speech or to impose official consequences because no one can learn from silence. The solution is education -- to take full advantage of the marketplace of ideas that a university offers. And that education can start with a very concrete step.

The Santa Clara should apologize for its headline. And Jake Lyssy should publicly apologize for his campaign slogan. Then the real conversations can start.

Roey Rahmil is a senior political science and philosophy double major.

Roey RahmilVitamin supplements fooling consumersairborne3_opt.jpgwww.fun-fitness.com Chris CavagnaroWhen I lived in the dorms, I caught colds all the time. I was always amazed that every time I got sick, people would stress that I should take a ton of vitamin C or some other sort of alternative cold remedy.

The most popular of these supposed cold fighters was always Airborne, a tablet that dissolves in water to create a fizzy orange cocktail of vitamins and chemicals that allegedly help boost your immune system to fight off a cold. The common opinion in the dorms always seemed to be that the best way to handle a cold wasn't to eat well, stay hydrated and get rest, but to pump yourself full of vitamins.

The pervasiveness of natural cures and dietary supplements in our society is astounding. Every grocery store or drug store has a large section devoted to vitamins and natural remedies, and other chains like Whole Foods and The Vitamin Shop have aisles of supplements ranging from echinacea to artichoke extract. The dietary supplement craze has created a multibillion dollar industry, and the makers of Airborne have grossed millions of dollars in sales.

The claims that producers make about their supplements make them sound very enticing. Who wouldn't want a cure for the common cold? The makers of Airborne claim that it can be used daily for cold prevention, or it can be taken at the first sign of cold symptoms to prevent a full-blown cold.

Airborne is marketed as the creation of a school teacher (why anyone would want to treat their cold with something created by a school teacher rather than a doctor is beyond me), and the Airborne Web site claims that Airborne is made with seven cold-fighting herbs used in eastern medicine, amino acids, electrolytes and anti-oxidants.

But the makers of Airborne cannot seem to keep their story straight. In an investigation by "Good Morning America," Elise Donahue, the CEO of Airborne, said Airborne is not a cure for the common cold, but can only boost a healthy person's immune system. "Good Morning America" also found that the clinical study Airborne used to substantiate its claims was done not by scientists or doctors, but by a two-person company created solely to do a study on Airborne, run by a man with a fake degree. Airborne still stands by the study, but is removing it from all its packaging because, as Donahue stated: "We found it confused consumers ... Consumers are not really scientifically-minded enough to be able to understand a clinical study."

This is exactly the mind-set the producers of supplements like Airborne want to propagate in society. The reality is that supplements are barely regulated by the Food and Drug Administration, and manufacturers can produce, sell and market supplements without FDA approval as long as the ingredients won't harm anyone. Unlike drugs, supplements do not need to have proven efficacy and manufacturers can claim that a supplement has almost any health benefit, even if it is unsubstantiated. And like Airborne, the benefits of most supplements are not backed up by science. Even the effectiveness of vitamin C, the most popular health supplements in the United States, is questionable at best.

But if the health benefits of supplements are mostly unsubstantiated, why are they so popular? There are two main contributing factors for this. First, the supposed benefits of supplements are, indeed, very alluring. It would simply be great if a combination of vitamins and herbs could cure the common cold, but the surprising reality is that medical science has not yet figured out how to attack viruses that cause it. Second, supplement producers exploit the hope that there are alternative cures to common ailments that medical science has yet to solve, encouraging people to rely on anecdotal evidence rather than the scientific method. Supplemental producers are even suggesting that the medical community is conspiring to hide real, natural cures to make money on expensive pharmaceutical drugs.

Most dietary supplements are harmless -- if you think they help you, go ahead and take them. But beyond some sort of placebo effect, products like Airborne simply do not do anything. And until consumers stop buying supplements, companies are surely going to continue to make billions of dollars selling products that are nothing more than a healthy dose of placebo.

Chris Cavagnaro is a senior political science major.