Opinion: Safer Semantic Spaces

I recently heard that, in Berlin's club scene, there's a bit of a debate going on as to whether the Left should be using the term 'safer space' instead of 'safe space'. For those not in the know, a 'safe space' is a place where women*, queers and people of colour aren't discriminated against. In theory, anyways.

Right from the outset, I have to admit that I dislike these kinds of debates. But apart from the little voice inside me asking is this discussion really the best use of our energy, I find myself troubled by this debate for deeper reasons.  To me, the term 'safe space' has always denoted an aim: it's a future state rather than a present one. And, as a woman, sometimes just the aim of being safe and equal is all that gets me out of bed in the morning.  

I'm fully aware that, as long as we live under patriarchy, there will be nothing that can really be called a safe space. It's hard not to know that, growing up as I did surrounded by news stories of women being murdered by husbands in their homes, or by strangers in their classes at college.   

Saying that a space can only ever be 'safer' under the current system may be technically correct, just as it's technically correct to say that black people can only be 'relatively equal' or that anarchists can only be 'quasi-autonomous' under this system. The phrasing may be realistic,  but it feels pretty damn depressing to set the bar that low... unless you aren't restricted by a lack of safety, equality or autonomy yourself. Then, it just feels safer, because at least you aren't making a promise to us minorities that you can't keep.  

In reality, the phrase 'safer space' isn't an aim so much as a semantic apology by entitled people to less entitled ones. As in, "Sorry that we couldn't make this space totally safe to you." To be honest, most PC language feels like it falls in this same vein. It may make them feel better, the people not affected by the issue, but it does little to change the underlying realities for us. In this case though I do worry when I hear people downgrading the term 'safe' to 'safer' because I know that, from there, it's just a short journey to saying that since they can't deliver a safe space, we shouldn't aim for it. There are also shades of the alt-right in this debate; with their constant sneering at liberal 'safe spaces' and efforts to erode our ideals, one cosmetic change at a time. 

The urge to change these sorts of words reflects a dawning awareness among non-minorities that the aims of the Left aren't 100% practicable. That awareness may be news to men who are straight and white, but it isn't news to me. And yet like all things that are news to straight, white men, it gradually dominates our discussions and displace subjects that matter more. Subjects like, how do I find the confidence to speak my mind? How do I tell that guy trailing me around the 'safe space' to back off without ruining my night?  How do I convince my parents that having a same sex lover isn't a betrayal of their love? How do I get paid better for my work? And so on.

As a female, I'd love it if the much-vaunted Safe Space already had its perfect expression in Berlin... but it doesn't.  I know this, like most minority people do. While having non-minorities understand this does matter, it's not so big that it should disrupt our bigger struggles. For me, it's a struggle to find time and energy to write and it doesn't get easier, knowing a bunch of bystanders to my struggle are going to constantly pull me up on which terms I choose to use. The same could be said for almost all the wrangling over semantics that's done by the Left.  It matters, but when it's disruptive to more basic goals, it should definitely take a back burner.

Words, like masks, are empty without the content to match them

Last summer, my friend Andy and I were walking down a street in Mitte and talking about his political adventures in the U.S.A.  As we talked, I noticed that he kept on using terms like 'aboriginal' or 'native' to describe the First Nations people of North America so I said - just as an aside - that such groups were calling themselves the First Nations, these days.

Andy seemed surprised by this news. He also seemed nervous, because he's always been hyper-PC. "Well," I asked, "what did the First Nations people that you met prefer to be called?" 

"They used 'native', 'aboriginal'. Even Indian sometimes." Andy seemed surprised to admit this because all three terms are seen as pretty derogatory by people on the Left.   

No amount of name-changing can bestow respect or take it away. I suspect that many First Nations people already understand that. The bar is so low for many of them that they are pretty much happy when their reservations aren't being bulldozed, their forests chopped down or their drinking water poisoned. By the same token, words like 'bitch' wouldn't bother women if we knew that our ferocity was seen as powerful by society, rather than merely being seen as inconvenient. 

The terms used by privileged people to describe less-than-privileged groups are an expression of their desire to be sympathetic more than anything else. That sympathy matters, but there has to be space left open for marginalised groups to express their needs and be accommodated. Otherwise, the actual struggles become mere accessories to someone else's need to be seen as sympathetic to them. That feels dangerously like servitude, to me. 

Wrangling over words has another unwanted side-effect: it makes onlookers think you've got it pretty good, like this is all you've got to worry about in life. It's not just me who think this, but society as a whole. It's one of the reasons why the anti-PC backlash has gathered so much momentum; these semantic debates make the Left's causes seem petty and, at the same time, they aren't all that helpful in furthering its goals. This is why the anti PC backlash is supported by people on the right and the left. 

That's not to say that terminology doesn't matter; it does, but it can only ever be an imperfect reflection of the state that we are in, or were in, or would like to be in, one day. As a writer, I'm more aware of that fact. You can feel free to use whichever phrase you want and I won't stop you, but safe spaces are something that I would like to see one day - so I don't think I'll give up on using that phrase just yet... if only for the benefit of my imagination.

But oh! If we call the whole thing off

Then we must part
And oh! If we ever part
Then that might break my heart! 
- "You say Tomato, I say Tomato"