In English, everybody uses the same personal pronouns (I, my, me). We do have unique pronouns that characterize people based on individual characteristics, but those are all 3rd-person pronouns (he, she, they). What this means is that in English, your pronouns are fundamentally decided by somebody else. Yes, you can still tell somebody your preferred pronouns and request that they use those 3rd-person pronouns to refer to you, but fundamentally it is a decision that is up to them; you cannot force somebody to refer to you in a certain way.
I bring that up because in Japanese it’s actually the opposite. It is the 1st-person pronouns that are unique and characterize people. There are at least 5 personal pronouns that I would say are in common use today but historically there’s a lot more, maybe dozens. Do you want to subversively use a more masculine pronoun as a woman? Do you want to use an antiquated formal pronoun at all times? Do you want to use a mildly formal basic pronoun that doesn’t really reveal much about yourself? Literally nobody can stop you. Yeah they can judge you for it, but it’s different from English in that the language is designed so that you have control over your pronouns.
This difference between the two languages led me to two conclusions.
The first is that: pronouns have become such a big “problem” in the Anglosphere. Imagine a conversation between two people where one introduces themselves with “My pronouns are she/they, what are yours?” and the other person responds “I don’t really believe in having pronouns. I think it’s kinda weird.”
Don’t you immediately get the impression that these people are on opposite sides? That there is some serious conflict in their points of view? It’s easy to get caught up in that dichotomy, and yes there is a “right” side. It’s good to respect people’s preferred pronouns. But I want you to realize that this “problem” exists entirely in the language itself. If we had the power to declare our own pronouns without making a request, to “say and therefore be,” the problem would largely disappear. People would still judge you. People will still disrespect you. But the English language gives people a tool to do so.
The second conclusion that I came to is that linguistically, English is actually pretty conformist/collectivist while Japanese is pretty individualistic. It’s pretty common knowledge among people who make a distinction between “individualistic” and “collectivist” cultures that Anglosphere countries are considered to be more individual while Asian, particularly Sinosphere countries like Japan, are considered to be more collectivist. But if you told me to compare the pronouns in two languages: one of which has tools for you to put other people into simple boxes and no tools to express yourself, the other has tools to express yourself and you cannot put other people into boxes; I would definitely come to the non-obvious conclusion that Japan is a much more individualistic culture while Anglosphere countries are all collectivist. I could definitely go into more depth here, but I’m sure you already see the broad point: the collectivist/individualist dichotomy is a false one. Cultures all have elements that are one or the other. Everybody universally appreciates some things that are individualist, like art, and other things that are collectivist, like family and school.
As a last point, I want to address an obvious elephant-in-the-room for people who speak Japanese. You all know I’ve been ignoring a very important fact about Japanese that punches a big hole in the argument. Japanese already has the exact same 3rd-person gendered pronouns as English: 彼氏 (kareshi, he) and 彼女 (kanojo, she). I would like to counter that observation with two points: first, those words are used FAR less often than they are in English. When speaking in the 2nd- or 3rd-person in Japanese, it is very common to forego pronouns and just use somebody’s name. In fact, if you use the 2nd-person pronouns in almost any context, it’s a little weird; almost like you forgot their name and have to call them “hey you” instead. In 3rd-person, you also typically will refer to somebody by name as well, and would rarely use kareshi or kanojo.
A second point: kareshi and kanojo are literally English imports. In the Meiji era of Japan after their long isolationist period, there was a desire to find ways to translate the gendered pronouns in English and French literature, which is where kareshi and kanojo (the latter originally kano’onna) came from in the first place.
If I wanted to fill more time I would also talk about how honorifics can personalize 2nd- and 3rd-person communication, the implications of using specific Japanese 1st-person pronouns, and I could really go in depth speculating about how English could have a neopronoun revolution in the future not via ones like xe/xim but rather anon, oomfie, homie, bestie, my guy, my brother in christ, girlipop, etc. and that maybe we are seeing that revolution right now.
TL;DR: English pronouns create some problems because they let you put other people into gendered boxes while Japanese pronouns let you express yourself and your unique relationships with other people. This should make us skeptical any time we hear somebody say that a culture is entirely “individualistic” or “collectivist,” and we should also recognize that the problem that some people have with respecting preferred pronouns is almost entirely a linguistic problem (sure, exacerbated by anti-trans outgroup politics) rather than an actual problem in people’s viewpoints. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
I am not a native or regular speaker, so take my observations with a grain of salt. In this comment I will refer to people as “males” and “females” in order to not imply some characteristics of gender or a certain age.
There’s probably 6 common first-person pronouns (I forgot about one): 私 (watashi), あたし (atashi), うち (uchi), 俺 (ore), 僕 (boku), and 自分 (jibun).
私 (watashi) is the most common and basic pronoun. This is the one that I meant when I mentioned a “mildly formal basic pronoun that doesn’t really reveal much about yourself.” In formal speech, it’s basically totally flavorless and generic; anybody can use it. In more casual speech, it’s a little more feminine. Males are more likely to use 僕 (boku) or 俺 (ore) casually. This is my pronoun of choice when I speak Japanese.
あたし (atashi), sometimes also written as 私, is an alternate abbreviated form of 私 (watashi). I’m not very familiar with this one and I don’t think I know anybody who uses it, but I’ve heard that it’s more feminine and more casual than 私 (watashi). Males will rarely ever use あたし (atashi). I have also heard that it has a slight rebellious flavor to it.
うち (uchi) is where we start getting into the interesting ones. In a literal sense, うち (uchi) means house/family. This kind of synecdoche is not uncommon in Japanese, where you can refer to somebody by their house. This is actually where the word “otaku” comes from. In contemporary Japanese, otaku basically means “nerd” but it’s originally a second-person pronoun that means “your house,” and it was a common formal way for nerds to formally refer to each other. I don’t really know much about うち (uchi) usage but it’s definitely more feminine. Not quite sure about the level of formality. I quite like this pronoun and I would probably use it if it was a little more neutral.
俺 (ore) is very casual, very masculine, and I’ve even heard people call it a little bit aggressive or rude if it’s used in the wrong circumstance. This is probably the most common male pronoun in casual settings, though it is not really used in younger speakers. This would be a pretty subversive pronoun to use as a female, but I do know at least one female speaker who uses 俺 (ore) as their primary first-person pronoun.
僕 (boku) is maybe the most interesting one. It’s masculine, but can be quite polite. It’s very common among young boys and my male Japanese friend told me he doesn’t use it because it sounds childish (幼い). Despite that, it is still used in older male speakers in a professional setting. It’s also worth mentioning that there’s a falling-pitch 僕 (boku) which is more childish and a rising pitch 僕 (boku) which is more professional. Rising pitch 僕 (boku) personally gives me the vibe of a professor or researcher and it sounds a little more individual than 私 (watashi), though that’s just my impression. 僕 (boku) is also commonly used in songs by female singers. Female usage of 僕 (boku) outside of music is, I’ve heard, very rare. But in fictional media there’s definitely a trope that exists of the “boku girl” and it’s really cool to hear. Off the top of my head, there’s a vtuber Amane Kanata who speaks with 僕 (boku). My favorite fictional “boku girl” is Tsukimiya Ayu from Kanon. Hearing 僕 (boku) from a character who is otherwise not masculine gives off a really complicated vibe. It’s a little naive, bold, boyish, cute, childish, etc. But you should probably not expect to hear it in real life.
自分 (jibun) means “oneself” and is not necessarily a first-person pronoun. You can easily use 自分 (jibun) to refer to “yourself” or “themself” etc. As a first-person pronoun, I think it can be very gender neutral. It also has the quality of slightly distancing yourself from what you say, or trying to imply that you are not imposing yourself on other people. In English, it would be like saying “well, personally” at the beginning of every sentence and “but that’s just me” at the end. I do like 自分 (jibun) and it has its use cases. I would say I more often use it as a second- or third-person pronoun though.
Again, my knowledge of these pronouns is pretty superficial as a non-native non-regular speaker but even if I have some details wrong, the proof of concept is still there. Sometimes I wish that the English pronoun system was more robust and I hope for a distant future in which we abandon our silly he/she pronouns that imply nothing but gender and move towards using a variety of interesting second- and third-person pronouns like girlypop and anon.
@[email protected] @[email protected] thanks for being my audience. Skip to the end for a TL;DR.
The abbreviated version of the speech follows:
In English, everybody uses the same personal pronouns (I, my, me). We do have unique pronouns that characterize people based on individual characteristics, but those are all 3rd-person pronouns (he, she, they). What this means is that in English, your pronouns are fundamentally decided by somebody else. Yes, you can still tell somebody your preferred pronouns and request that they use those 3rd-person pronouns to refer to you, but fundamentally it is a decision that is up to them; you cannot force somebody to refer to you in a certain way.
I bring that up because in Japanese it’s actually the opposite. It is the 1st-person pronouns that are unique and characterize people. There are at least 5 personal pronouns that I would say are in common use today but historically there’s a lot more, maybe dozens. Do you want to subversively use a more masculine pronoun as a woman? Do you want to use an antiquated formal pronoun at all times? Do you want to use a mildly formal basic pronoun that doesn’t really reveal much about yourself? Literally nobody can stop you. Yeah they can judge you for it, but it’s different from English in that the language is designed so that you have control over your pronouns.
This difference between the two languages led me to two conclusions.
The first is that: pronouns have become such a big “problem” in the Anglosphere. Imagine a conversation between two people where one introduces themselves with “My pronouns are she/they, what are yours?” and the other person responds “I don’t really believe in having pronouns. I think it’s kinda weird.”
Don’t you immediately get the impression that these people are on opposite sides? That there is some serious conflict in their points of view? It’s easy to get caught up in that dichotomy, and yes there is a “right” side. It’s good to respect people’s preferred pronouns. But I want you to realize that this “problem” exists entirely in the language itself. If we had the power to declare our own pronouns without making a request, to “say and therefore be,” the problem would largely disappear. People would still judge you. People will still disrespect you. But the English language gives people a tool to do so.
The second conclusion that I came to is that linguistically, English is actually pretty conformist/collectivist while Japanese is pretty individualistic. It’s pretty common knowledge among people who make a distinction between “individualistic” and “collectivist” cultures that Anglosphere countries are considered to be more individual while Asian, particularly Sinosphere countries like Japan, are considered to be more collectivist. But if you told me to compare the pronouns in two languages: one of which has tools for you to put other people into simple boxes and no tools to express yourself, the other has tools to express yourself and you cannot put other people into boxes; I would definitely come to the non-obvious conclusion that Japan is a much more individualistic culture while Anglosphere countries are all collectivist. I could definitely go into more depth here, but I’m sure you already see the broad point: the collectivist/individualist dichotomy is a false one. Cultures all have elements that are one or the other. Everybody universally appreciates some things that are individualist, like art, and other things that are collectivist, like family and school.
As a last point, I want to address an obvious elephant-in-the-room for people who speak Japanese. You all know I’ve been ignoring a very important fact about Japanese that punches a big hole in the argument. Japanese already has the exact same 3rd-person gendered pronouns as English: 彼氏 (kareshi, he) and 彼女 (kanojo, she). I would like to counter that observation with two points: first, those words are used FAR less often than they are in English. When speaking in the 2nd- or 3rd-person in Japanese, it is very common to forego pronouns and just use somebody’s name. In fact, if you use the 2nd-person pronouns in almost any context, it’s a little weird; almost like you forgot their name and have to call them “hey you” instead. In 3rd-person, you also typically will refer to somebody by name as well, and would rarely use kareshi or kanojo.
A second point: kareshi and kanojo are literally English imports. In the Meiji era of Japan after their long isolationist period, there was a desire to find ways to translate the gendered pronouns in English and French literature, which is where kareshi and kanojo (the latter originally kano’onna) came from in the first place.
If I wanted to fill more time I would also talk about how honorifics can personalize 2nd- and 3rd-person communication, the implications of using specific Japanese 1st-person pronouns, and I could really go in depth speculating about how English could have a neopronoun revolution in the future not via ones like xe/xim but rather anon, oomfie, homie, bestie, my guy, my brother in christ, girlipop, etc. and that maybe we are seeing that revolution right now.
TL;DR: English pronouns create some problems because they let you put other people into gendered boxes while Japanese pronouns let you express yourself and your unique relationships with other people. This should make us skeptical any time we hear somebody say that a culture is entirely “individualistic” or “collectivist,” and we should also recognize that the problem that some people have with respecting preferred pronouns is almost entirely a linguistic problem (sure, exacerbated by anti-trans outgroup politics) rather than an actual problem in people’s viewpoints. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
Thanks for giving your Ted Talk! It was fascinating. If you waned to discuss the 5 common 1st-person pronouns in more details, I’d be thrilled.
I am not a native or regular speaker, so take my observations with a grain of salt. In this comment I will refer to people as “males” and “females” in order to not imply some characteristics of gender or a certain age.
There’s probably 6 common first-person pronouns (I forgot about one): 私 (watashi), あたし (atashi), うち (uchi), 俺 (ore), 僕 (boku), and 自分 (jibun).
私 (watashi) is the most common and basic pronoun. This is the one that I meant when I mentioned a “mildly formal basic pronoun that doesn’t really reveal much about yourself.” In formal speech, it’s basically totally flavorless and generic; anybody can use it. In more casual speech, it’s a little more feminine. Males are more likely to use 僕 (boku) or 俺 (ore) casually. This is my pronoun of choice when I speak Japanese.
あたし (atashi), sometimes also written as 私, is an alternate abbreviated form of 私 (watashi). I’m not very familiar with this one and I don’t think I know anybody who uses it, but I’ve heard that it’s more feminine and more casual than 私 (watashi). Males will rarely ever use あたし (atashi). I have also heard that it has a slight rebellious flavor to it.
うち (uchi) is where we start getting into the interesting ones. In a literal sense, うち (uchi) means house/family. This kind of synecdoche is not uncommon in Japanese, where you can refer to somebody by their house. This is actually where the word “otaku” comes from. In contemporary Japanese, otaku basically means “nerd” but it’s originally a second-person pronoun that means “your house,” and it was a common formal way for nerds to formally refer to each other. I don’t really know much about うち (uchi) usage but it’s definitely more feminine. Not quite sure about the level of formality. I quite like this pronoun and I would probably use it if it was a little more neutral.
俺 (ore) is very casual, very masculine, and I’ve even heard people call it a little bit aggressive or rude if it’s used in the wrong circumstance. This is probably the most common male pronoun in casual settings, though it is not really used in younger speakers. This would be a pretty subversive pronoun to use as a female, but I do know at least one female speaker who uses 俺 (ore) as their primary first-person pronoun.
僕 (boku) is maybe the most interesting one. It’s masculine, but can be quite polite. It’s very common among young boys and my male Japanese friend told me he doesn’t use it because it sounds childish (幼い). Despite that, it is still used in older male speakers in a professional setting. It’s also worth mentioning that there’s a falling-pitch 僕 (boku) which is more childish and a rising pitch 僕 (boku) which is more professional. Rising pitch 僕 (boku) personally gives me the vibe of a professor or researcher and it sounds a little more individual than 私 (watashi), though that’s just my impression. 僕 (boku) is also commonly used in songs by female singers. Female usage of 僕 (boku) outside of music is, I’ve heard, very rare. But in fictional media there’s definitely a trope that exists of the “boku girl” and it’s really cool to hear. Off the top of my head, there’s a vtuber Amane Kanata who speaks with 僕 (boku). My favorite fictional “boku girl” is Tsukimiya Ayu from Kanon. Hearing 僕 (boku) from a character who is otherwise not masculine gives off a really complicated vibe. It’s a little naive, bold, boyish, cute, childish, etc. But you should probably not expect to hear it in real life.
自分 (jibun) means “oneself” and is not necessarily a first-person pronoun. You can easily use 自分 (jibun) to refer to “yourself” or “themself” etc. As a first-person pronoun, I think it can be very gender neutral. It also has the quality of slightly distancing yourself from what you say, or trying to imply that you are not imposing yourself on other people. In English, it would be like saying “well, personally” at the beginning of every sentence and “but that’s just me” at the end. I do like 自分 (jibun) and it has its use cases. I would say I more often use it as a second- or third-person pronoun though.
Again, my knowledge of these pronouns is pretty superficial as a non-native non-regular speaker but even if I have some details wrong, the proof of concept is still there. Sometimes I wish that the English pronoun system was more robust and I hope for a distant future in which we abandon our silly he/she pronouns that imply nothing but gender and move towards using a variety of interesting second- and third-person pronouns like girlypop and anon.