Robert Ausura Writing

     If wordsmiths can coin proactive, outgas, screenager and adultescent*, why can't they solve our gender pronoun problem? Are he/she, his or her and s/he the best they can do? As emergency patches, they might get the job done, but they are as clunky as the CO₂ filter jury-rigged aboard Apollo 13.

     I admit that English has special problems in the gender department. As soon as you make the subject of a sentence Human, Generic and Singular -- a "traveler," an "engineer," or a "manager" -- the whole can of worms pops open right there in your word processor. More mature languages long ago learned to avoid this pitfall. German, French and Spanish, for example, assign a gender (albeit capriciously, it seems) to every noun in their dictionaries. In Spanish, a traveler is viajero (masculine) and a clerk is oficinista (female), regardless of whether the writer or the reader has a man or a woman in mind. Chinese (I am told) has no gender pronouns at all.

     And we think we're an advanced culture.

     Nonetheless, American and English writers are stuck with this situation for now. So we all might as well just learn to write with it. In general there are four ways to deal with the gender pronoun enigma:

Ignore it
Cerebralize it
Cheat
Use it to your advantage.

          IGNORE IT. Just refer to everyone as male. This may not be your most politically correct option, but the tradition of the last two centuries is on your side. It certainly is the easiest way out, as long as you don’t mind being labeled socially oblivious.

          CEREBRALIZE IT. This is the path of those who insist on both social and grammatical correctness and are willing to tinker endlessly to achieve it. Like most contrivances designed for multiple purposes, their solutions are often as complicated and ungainly as they are careful and clever, like Swiss Army knives, which are truly practical only in situations most of us never find ourselves in. In the end, the only really acceptable solutions this group has devised are "inclusiveness" (One can always reconsider his or her options) and "plural camouflage" (As travelers we all can enjoy our time away from home).

          CHEAT. I was taught that "pronouns must always agree with their antecedents." According to this rule, the sentence "An engineer or planner in this situation should examine their options carefully" is incorrect. In fact, this construction (where they refers to one person) is a legitimate grammatical device with a noble pedigree. It is known as the Singular They, and it has been around since the 16th Century. It still sounds like a cheat to me—and to most English teachers, I’d bet—but once your ear adjusts, it sure does pose an elegant and universal solution.

          USE IT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. Those who have hired me for projects or visit this website regularly will recognize this option as my favorite. Presented with situations that call for a decision, I often make the one calculated to best grab the attention of my audience. After all, that’s what I'm paid to do. Among my favorite approaches:

Write entirely in feminine gender. For some reason, consistently referring to people as "she" has the same effect as a female voice-over narrator: it makes the audience pay closer attention. It is, though, a contrivance and should be used with careful regard for subject and audience.
Create specific models. Instead of writing about "actors," I will write about a specific male or female actor, which all at once eliminates the gender problem, makes my storytelling more pointed and effective, and cures me of the disease of generalization.

The gender pronoun issue reflects our society's sensitivity to legitimate concerns. Writers should heed those concerns. But we must also remember that our job is to say new things and to say old things in new ways. Playing with pronouns—using any of these four approaches, suited to the task—is just another way to do that.