Reflections on Metaphors We Live By
“This class will change how you see the world,” my professor said at the beginning of a class called “Metaphor” I took in college. I was a little dubious, but at the same time, I loved this professor and he, Dr. David Douglass, went on to become my advisor and mentor in my Rhetoric & Media Studies major. So I pretty much ate up every single word he said.
But he was right. Maybe not in the radical sense that helped shape my political views (although I did take a great class from him called “The Rhetoric of Social Protest” which did some of that), but rather in seeing language beyond just its rhetorical or persuasive constructs. That language was a matter of psychology.
In the primary text for that class Metaphors We Live By by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson (yep, indeed, I still own the same copy I used 20 years ago which I recently unearthed thus inspiring this blog post) they state in the introduction: “metaphor is pervasive in everyday life, not just in language but in thought and action. Our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature...they also govern our everyday functioning, down to the most mundane details.”
Basically, they’re saying that metaphor isn’t just something we use to make a point in an interesting and helpful way. Rather we use metaphor to understand abstract concepts. For example, we often interpret mood or emotions in terms of “orientation” or “up and down.” The statement, “I’m a little low” doesn’t mean I am literally low to the ground, but rather feeling sad. “That boosted my spirits,” or “that picked me up,” you’d say when someone/something helps you feel happier.
One of the major metaphor examples Lakoff & Johnson discuss is “argument as war” where words that are often used to describe an argument are drawn from battle giving the examples: “He attacked every weak point in my argument; His criticisms were right on target; I demolished his argument.”
This kind of metaphor exhibits a cultural value system in the language. They highlight how such value systems are often culturally constructed. War metaphors in our language (and honestly, the more you look around at the way we speak and explain things, they’re just about everywhere) feels very much a part of the way we see ourselves in the world. The competitive, war-like nature of “us” against “them” which seeps into even our everyday life. We’re culturally primed to get that meaning around “argument is war” when that’s how we’ve been raised to see it.
On the other hand, they say, “imagine a culture where an argument is viewed as a dance, the participants are seen as performers, and the goal is to perform in a balanced and aesthetically pleasing way.” Imagine what the metaphors in language might come about from a culture that values the beauty and artistry of dance in an argument over winning a violent battle. Imagine the beauty in the metaphor that would be adopted into common language in that culture.
This example has gotten me thinking about the language I use in my writing and whether these “hidden metaphors” that are a part of everyday language are adaptable when we actually think about them more. Whether changing the way we use everyday metaphors might have the power to change a value system.
One quite relevant example is the Covid-19. From the beginning of the pandemic to today, the language we use is likening coronavirus to war: “healthcare workers are the frontline people fighting coronavirus.” None of it is subtle. But there are folks, such as Virginia Hefferman who wrote this Wired article in May 2020 arguing that “war” is not an apt metaphor for this moment. I think we’re seeing this now as the U.S. is engaged in a different kind of mid-post-pandemic situation. Certainly the “war” one is fighting often depends on where you get your information: war on information, war on vaccines, war on freedom…(I mean, I could go on). What the Wired article proposed lo so many months ago was to rather use “the language of instruction, practice, and ‘do no harm.” These principles, they say, “could have more explanatory and even predictive power than those drawn from war.”
Oh wow, didn’t we have such an opportunity with language there? Thinking about this now feels a little futile as the virus rages (another metaphor, see what I did there?) among the unvaccinated in the U.S.. But what it does show is that language is a choice. There are certainly some ways we speak that are hard to undo and it probably isn’t such a big deal if we don’t (e.g., “I need a pick-me-up” will always be something I think of as needing a little help to feel better). But we can also choose to find other ways to say things. That’s what we do as writers all the time and we have the benefit of the editorial process to help us be precise about those metaphors—even the hidden ones—to be a bit more in line with the tone and the voice and the values we hope to share.
And I must offer (another metaphor) a big ‘ol (metaphor) thank you to Dr. David Douglass who oh so many years ago did, indeed, change the way I view the world through language.