The Word ‘Mansplaining’ Had Been a Frontrunner for the Annual Word Title. Here’s Why We Need to Move On From It.
The coveted Oxford Word of the Year has been revealed, and the winner is “rage bait”. It reportedly narrowly won out against terms like “presence harvesting” – which is basically charisma, a concept for which a host of serviceable words have long been in use. The other runner-up was “lifestyle optimization”, a imprecisely defined lifestyle improvement that implies somehow gaining control over the mainframe of time itself to defy natural decline. Given that “aura farming” is superfluous and most “biological tweaks” are mostly bogus, the contest may not have been that intense after all, but the new term may not be a positive addition.
The Problem with Rage Bait
Anger fodder, as you likely know, is the dissemination, usually online, of material specifically designed to provoke anger. It is far from a mythical concept; studies has consistently demonstrated that online engagement is primarily motivated by out-group animosity. It also isn’t a quirky feature of modern life, akin to specialty coffees. Instead, it builds ideological bunkers, exacerbates societal fractures, and ultimately corrodes trust in institutions, as individuals become so disconnected from any group outside their own that they cease to believe anything except tribal consensus. One could argue that highlighting such a term is comparable to making “genocide” the top lexical pick in 1992 amid the conflict in the Balkans. Certainly, it was prevalent, but that scarcely qualified it as a lighthearted dictionary entry. Incidentally, it was designated the Anti-Word of the year by a language association in Germany, which deplored its softening of a brutal reality. And that critique is reasonable.
The Rise and Fall of a Loaded Term
With no formal appeals process for word-of-the-year choices, we should at minimum have the option to phase out words that have outlived their purpose, irrevocably changed meaning, or caused more problems than they solved. “Mansplaining” earned a spot as a New York Times Word of the Year in 2010, was a finalist for Oxford’s honor in 2015, and then made it into the Oxford English Dictionary three years later. By that time, a critical reaction was already underway. It entered linguistic ground eager for a way to express the exasperating experience of “Why is this man condescendingly lecturing me on my own area of expertise?” So many people, notably women, had experienced that very situation that the term was immediately popular. Yet its net was wide, and it caught some individuals who were simply explaining something they did understand, and they happened to be guys. In some circles, it evolved to mean little more than “a man is talking”.
Rhetorical Weaponization and Semantic Drift
The term was again misappropriated, for instance by Rachel Reeves in a media appearance, to mean “criticism I face is rooted in my gender”. This led to a response from another political figure, who remarked on a political program: “The Chancellor’s response has been dominated by self-victimization and complaints of sexism.” Apart from her unnecessarily harsh language, she made a valid observation: a senior official should justify their economic decisions without attacking the character of their detractors. However, Badenoch then went on to claim that the budget was not aligned with Christian values, because “in early Christian times, there was no state or welfare”. This prompted an absolute barrage of what some might call pointed explanations regarding the existence of the Roman Empire, including one journalist’s indelible retort: “She claims there was no state. Who carried out the crucifixion, then?”
The Limits of the Label
Yet, because these rebuttals came from individuals who were more knowledgeable about Roman history than the minister, the fact that they were all men – even the fact that they were inadvertently referencing a separate cultural meme about “daily reflections on Rome” – did not qualify as mansplaining. It was, quite simply, explaining in a condescending tone of voice. The core idea, therefore, was distorted by the Chancellor, attacked by the second politician, and might have been deployed correctly by observers. However, the politician’s depth of ignorance was so significant on that particular topic that one arguably could not mansplain to her – at least not about that subject. The subjective application of the term is too unstable; no catchy phrase could adequately capture it. Or perhaps this entire analysis is just an attempt to generate outrage from a political opponent.
