Orwell's War on Sloppy Language

When George Orwell sat down in 1946 to write Politics and the English Language, he wasn’t just irritated by bad prose. He felt something larger slipping away—clarity, honesty, even the ability to think straight. To him, the decline of language wasn’t a cosmetic problem; it was a moral one. Foolish thoughts produced sloppy language, and sloppy language made it easier to think even more foolish thoughts. Left unchecked, the cycle would spin on forever.

Eric Arthur Blair (1903 – 1950)
who wrote under the pen name of
George Orwell

Orwell believed that political actors understood this perfectly well. Sloppy, inflated, evasive language wasn’t an accident—it was a tool. It allowed governments to hide brutality behind soft cushions of words, to make the indefensible sound reasonable, and to lull citizens into accepting what they might otherwise resist. When language becomes vague, he warned, truth becomes optional.

The Fog That Thinks for You

Orwell describes the modern writer as someone moving through a thick fog of ready‑made phrases. The fog is comforting; it saves effort. Why think when a cliché can do the thinking for you? Why confront a brutal truth when a soft euphemism can cushion it? Orwell sees how this fog works on the mind; once you stop choosing your own words, you stop choosing your own thoughts.

Orwell had a gift for metaphor, and he used it to expose the tricks of bad writing. He compared insincere writers to cuttlefish, creatures that release clouds of ink whenever they feel threatened. Politicians and bureaucrats, he argued, do the same thing—only their ink takes the form of long words, stale metaphors, and phrases so overused they no longer mean anything.

He noticed how often writers and politicians reached for ready‑made phrases, “long strips of words". These bits of language, he said, anesthetize the mind. They allow a writer to sound authoritative without actually thinking.

Worst of all for Orwell was political euphemism—the art of making “lies sound truthful and murder respectable.” Bombing civilians became pacification. Forced displacement became transfer of populations. The words were clean; the actions were not.

And then there were the meaningless words—terms like democratic or fascist that had been stretched so thin they could mean anything or nothing. Such words were perfect for praise or condemnation because they required no evidence, only emotion.

Echoes in His Fiction

Orwell's concerns weren't confined to his essays. They became the backbone of his fiction. In 1984, Newspeak is the logical endpoint of linguistic decay: a language engineered to shrink the range of human thought. If there is no word for freedom, how can one imagine it?

In Animal Farm, language becomes a weapon of control. Slogans are repeated until they replace memory. Commandments are quietly rewritten. And the chilling line “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others” shows how easily language can be twisted to make injustice sound natural.

A Way Back

Despite his bleak diagnosis, Orwell wasn't a fatalist. He believed that the decline of language was reversible. He insisted that writers and speechmakers could resist the drift into the fog by choosing clarity over ornament, precision over vagueness, honesty over convenience. His six rules for writing—avoid clichés, use short words, cut unnecessary language, prefer the active voice, avoid jargon, and break any rule before saying something absurd—were meant as an act of resistance and rebellion.

Fighting for a clean sentence, Orwell is not polishing prose for beauty’s sake. He is trying to keep language alive because once language collapses, truth is next. His essay is a reminder that clarity is not just a stylistic choice. It is a moral stance. It is a refusal to let someone else think on your behalf. It is the belief that words, used honestly, can still cut through the fog.

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More on Orwell

Who Really Writes History? The Winners, the Losers… or the Liars?

The Future Orwell Feared Is the One We Built

What’s Next? Erasing History

Earlier this month, I explored the state of healthcare in the United States and how numbers alone cannot capture the deeper moral and civic questions beneath the surface. In April, I will turn to another topic where facts, memory, and meaning collide: the struggle over history itself.

Across the political spectrum, people accuse one another of rewriting or erasing the past. Confederate monuments come down. Military bases are renamed—sometimes more than once. Textbooks and school curricula are revised. Museums rethink their exhibits. Even state flags are redesigned. Each of these actions is framed by some as an assault on heritage and by others as an act of moral repair.

The central question of my upcoming lecture is simple but demanding: When do these actions erase history, and when do they represent an attempt to care for the nation’s soul?

The Soul of a Nation

The idea of a national soul is ancient. Around 375 BCE, Plato explored the soul of a city-state in The Republic, describing how a community’s character, justice, and shared ideals shape its political life. That idea has echoed across centuries of political thought: nations, like individuals, have an inner life.

A national soul can be understood as:

• The deep, animating collective spirit of a people
• The core identity that binds a nation together
• A shared set of ideals, values, and principles
• A collection of enduring, aspirational commitments
• The moral conscience that guides political, social, and economic life
• A living inheritance that grows out of a shared remembered past

A nation’s history—its triumphs and its traumas—forms the narrative through which people understand who they are, how they relate to one another, and what is good and important. That narrative is never static. It is shaped, revised, and sometimes contested as new generations reinterpret the past.

When Does Change Become Erasure?

The tension arises because caring for the national soul requires two things that can feel contradictory:

1. Honoring the past—even when it is painful, complicated, or uncomfortable.
2. Refusing to enshrine falsehoods—especially when they distort who we have been or who we aspire to be.

Removing a monument, renaming a base, or revising a textbook can be an act of erasure if it attempts to hide or sanitize history. But it can also be an act of moral clarity if it helps a nation confront the truth more honestly.

The difference lies in intention and outcome:

• Does the action obscure the past, or does it illuminate it?
• Does it narrow our understanding, or deepen it?
• Does it silence part of the story, or make room for voices long ignored?

A healthy national soul requires the courage to face both the good and the bad without flinching. It requires the discipline to distinguish fact from fiction, memory from myth, and heritage from nostalgia.

Caring for the National Soul

Caring for the national soul is not a passive act. It demands ongoing engagement with history—its achievements, its failures, and its unresolved tensions. It asks us to hold complexity rather than retreat into simplicity. It challenges us to build a shared narrative that is honest enough to heal and hopeful enough to inspire.

The debate over “erasing history” is really a debate about who we are and who we want to become. It is a struggle over memory, identity, and the moral responsibilities of citizenship.

As April approaches, I am looking forward to exploring this question: not to settle the debate, but to help us see it more clearly.

Erasing History—or Caring for our National Soul?

Tuesday, 4/21; 9:30 – 11:30 AM Pacific Time

Osher Lifelong Learning Institute

California State University, East Bay

Register here (Must be a member to register)

 

More on Erasing History

Erasing History in Plain Sight

Who Really Writes History? The Winners, the Losers… or the Liars?

March Is Women’s History Month

March is Women’s History Month – And I Have Some Reading Suggestions

March invites us to pause, look back, and honor the women whose courage, intellect, and persistence shaped the nation we live in. It’s a month for rediscovering stories that were too often pushed to the margins—and for celebrating the writers who bring those stories back into the light.

Three Books by Cokie Roberts Worth Your Time

If you’re looking for meaningful, accessible, and deeply human history to read this month, you can’t go wrong with Cokie Roberts. Her trilogy on American women is a gift: warm, meticulously researched, and filled with the kinds of stories that make you wonder why these names weren’t in your school textbooks.

Founding Mothers: The Women Who Raised Our Nation

Roberts opens the American Revolution from a new angle—through the women who sustained households, managed businesses, ran farms, and shaped political thinking while the men drafted the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. These are stories of grit, sacrifice, and strategic brilliance. They remind us that independence was not only fought on battlefields but also in kitchens, parlors, and makeshift war rooms across the colonies.

Ladies of Liberty

Roberts continues the story into the early republic, spotlighting the women who helped steer a fragile new nation. Roberts shows how these women balanced public influence with private responsibility, often acting as political advisors, social diplomats, and cultural leaders in an era that pretended they had no role at all.

Capital Dames: The Civil War and the Women of Washington, 1848–1868

By the time Roberts reaches the Civil War, the women of Washington, D.C. are no longer operating behind the scenes—they are shaping the political and social landscape in unmistakable ways. This book is a riveting portrait of independence, service, and political empowerment during one of the most turbulent periods in American history.

A New Voice for Women’s History: Norah O’Donnell

I just downloaded Norah O’Donnell’s new book, and it promises to be a powerful addition to the genre.

We the Women: The Hidden Heroes Who Shaped America

O’Donnell brings together portraits of American women—from 1776 to the present—whose courage and persistence helped bend the arc of the nation toward a more perfect union. It’s a sweeping, modern look at the unsung heroes who fought for freedom, expanded rights, and insisted that America live up to its ideals.

Why These Books Matter

Women’s History Month isn’t just about celebration—it’s about correction. It’s about restoring the missing chapters, acknowledging the invisible labor, and recognizing that the American story has always been a collaboration, even when only half the collaborators were credited. These books remind us that history is richer, more complex, and far more inspiring when we widen the lens.

And one more thing—because the science is too good not to mention: people who read live longer. Truly. Studies show that regular reading is linked to longer life expectancy, reduced stress, sharper cognition, and deeper empathy.

So, this March, pick up a book about the women who shaped America. You’ll honor their lives—and maybe even extend your own.

 

 

Erasing History in Plain Sight

 As I prepare for my upcoming lecture Erasing History—or Caring for Our National Soul? I keep circling back to a simple but unsettling truth: forgetting history is sometimes accidental – but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes, history is curated and aestheticized. Sometimes history is written by the losing side of battles, or by the nostalgic, or by the people who desperately need the past to be something more flattering than it was. And sometimes, history is sold to us with a mint julep and a guided tour.

Suzannah Herbert’s new documentary film Natchez, which turns its lens on plantation tourism in Mississippi, captures this dynamic vividly.  The film is not just about a place; it’s about a performance — a carefully staged version of the past that comforts visitors while burying the truth beneath layers of charm and choreography.

Orwell’s Warning: Memory as a Battleground

George Orwell famously wrote that “who controls the past controls the future.” He understood that the past is contested terrain. In my earlier post on Orwell and erasing history, I explored how defeated movements — such as post‑WWI German nationalists and the architects of the Lost Cause of the Confederacy — often craft seductive counter‑historical narratives. These stories don’t triumph because they’re accurate. They triumph because they’re emotionally satisfying. Natchez shows this process unfolding in plantation tours that become a kind of soft‑focus propaganda where slavery is minimized or euphemized, violence is reframed as hardship, enslaved people are reduced to footnotes, and architectural beauty becomes a distraction from human brutality. This is not history. It is mythmaking. And it is exactly the kind of mythmaking Orwell warned us about.

The Plantation as a Stage Set

One of the most striking insights in Natchez is how plantations function as theatrical spaces. The tours are scripted. The costumes are curated. The narratives are polished until they gleam. Visitors are invited to admire the chandeliers, the gardens, the gowns — everything except the system of racial terror that made those luxuries possible. The film exposes how this “heritage tourism” industry relies on a kind of emotional laundering. The past is cleaned up, softened, and made palatable. The result is a version of history that feels safe, even charming, but is fundamentally dishonest.

This is erasure by substitution. Not deleting the past but replacing it with something prettier.

Losers Writing History: The Lost Cause Lives On

What makes Natchez so powerful is that it reveals how the Confederacy — a defeated cause — still shapes American memory. The plantation fantasy is not a victor’s narrative. It is a loser’s narrative that has been elevated, repeated, and monetized until it feels authoritative.

The defeated can rewrite history just as effectively as the victorious, especially when their version of the past meets a psychological need. The plantation myth serves to ease guilt, evoke nostalgia, deflect responsibility, and craft a sellable narrative.

In this sense, Natchez is a case study in how societies choose comforting lies over difficult truths.

The Soft Erasure: How Forgetting Really Works

Sometimes erasing history is dramatic with book burning and censorship. Sometimes erasing history is much less than dramatic. It can be something quieter: selective omission; euphemism; aesthetic distraction; or narrative substitution. Natchez captures this soft erasure with painful clarity. The film shows how plantation tours don’t deny slavery; they simply bury it under magnolia blossoms and romanticized storytelling. This is how forgetting becomes a cultural habit.

Why This Matters Now

We are living through a moment when the past is being contested with new intensity. School curricula, public monuments, museum exhibits, and tourist attractions have become battlegrounds. The question is no longer what happened but whose version of what happened will define our collective memory.

Natchez forces us to confront the stakes of this struggle. It asks whether we are willing to face the truth — or whether we prefer the comfort of curated forgetting.

Reclaiming the Past Without Rewriting It

If we want a healthier relationship with history, we must resist both forms of distortion: the victor’s triumphalist rewriting and the loser’s sentimental rewriting. We must insist on a memory that is honest, unsparing, and humane. That means telling the full story of plantations — not as romantic estates, but as forced‑labor camps. It means centering the lives of the enslaved, not the fantasies of the nostalgic. It means recognizing that the struggle over history is not about the past at all. It is about the future we are willing to imagine.

Natchez reminds us that the past is not gone. And unless we challenge the myths, it will continue to shape us in ways we do not see.

Who Really Writes History? The Winners, the Losers… or the Liars?

 “History is written by the victors.” It’s a familiar line that many people casually attribute to Winston Churchill. But there’s no evidence he ever said it. George Orwell, however, did—and he meant it as a warning.

In his As I Please column for the Tribune on February 4, 1944, Orwell used the phrase to describe how power shapes memory. Whoever wins—whether a war, an election, or even a public argument—gets to decide what “really” happened. And if the winners are totalitarians, they don’t just shape the story. They can rewrite the past itself.

That idea echoes through one of the most chilling lines in 1984:

“Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”

Orwell feared that authoritarian regimes don’t merely lie—they attack the very concept of objective truth. If dictators survive, their lies harden into “history.” If they fall, those lies evaporate. He pointed to Nazi radio reports of imaginary British air raids. Had Hitler won, those fictional raids would have become historical fact, dutifully recorded by future scholars.

So yes—history is written by the winners.

But is it really that simple?

When the Losers Pick Up the Pen

If history were only written by the victors, the 20th century would look very different. Some of the most destructive political myths in modern history were crafted not by triumphant powers, but by the defeated—losers rewriting their loss into a story of betrayal, nobility, or victimhood.

The Stab‑in‑the‑Back Myth: Germany, 1918

After World War I, Germany’s military leadership faced an inconvenient truth: they had lost the war. Rather than accept responsibility, they promoted the Dolchstoßlegende—the Stab‑in‑the‑Back Myth. According to this narrative, the German army was undefeated on the battlefield but sabotaged by Jews, socialists, and democratic politicians at home.

It was a lie. But it was a useful lie.

It destabilized the Weimar Republic, fueled antisemitism, and helped clear the path for the Nazi rise to power. A defeated military elite rewrote history—and millions paid the price.

The Lost Cause: America, 1865

The Confederacy lost the Civil War. Decisively. And yet, in the decades that followed, a new story emerged: the Confederacy hadn’t fought for slavery (despite its own documents saying exactly that), but for “states’ rights.” Slavery, in this retelling, was benign—sometimes even virtuous. The antebellum South became a romantic fantasy, complete with gallant generals and loyal enslaved people.

This myth—history written by the losers—reshaped American memory, culture, and politics for generations. Its echoes still reverberate today.

Truth as a Fragile Habit

Orwell believed that truth depends on a “liberal habit of mind”—a willingness to treat facts as something to be discovered, not manufactured. That habit requires a free press, open debate, and a public that values accuracy over comfort.

Without those, the idea of a “correct” version of history collapses. What remains is simply the version with the most power behind it. Sometimes that power belongs to the victors. Sometimes it belongs to the aggrieved, the resentful, or the defeated.

Either way, Orwell’s warning stands: If we stop believing that facts can be true whether we like them or not, then history becomes nothing more than a contest of narratives—and the loudest storyteller wins.

 

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More on Orwell

Orwell’s War on Sloppy Language

The Future Orwell Feared Is the One We Built

The Power of Reading

If you’ve ever felt calmer after a few pages of a good book, or sharper after sinking into a compelling story, you’re not imagining it. Reading has always been more than a hobby. It’s one of the most powerful tools we have for strengthening the mind, nurturing emotional well‑being, and building a more connected society. And the research is remarkably consistent: reading changes us—physically, cognitively, socially, and emotionally.

Why Reading Helps Us Live Longer

Let’s start with the headline: people who read live longer.

Studies by scientists at the Yale School of Health report show that spending just 30 minutes a day with a book is associated with a 20% reduction in mortality risk. Book readers live, on average, nearly two years longer than non‑readers. Even tiny doses of reading make a difference. Six minutes of reading can reduce stress by up to 68%, lowering heart rate and easing muscle tension more effectively than music or a walk.

And if you read before bed? Your brain gets the message that it’s time to wind down. Print books, in particular, help the mind shift into rest mode in a way that glowing screens simply don’t.

A Workout for the Brain

Think of reading as a gym membership for your mind.

Every chapter strengthens neural pathways, increases white matter, and keeps cognitive systems active and resilient. Regular readers show slower rates of cognitive decline and may reduce their risk of Alzheimer’s and dementia.

Books also demand something modern life rarely does: sustained attention. Following a plot, remembering characters, tracking themes—these are mental marathons. Over time, readers develop deeper focus and longer attention spans, counteracting the constant interruptions of digital life.

The Skills That Shape a Life

Books are extraordinary teachers.

Exposure to rich language naturally expands vocabulary and helps readers internalize the rhythms of effective writing. Complex narratives sharpen critical thinking by encouraging us to analyze motives, identify assumptions, and solve problems.

And the benefits don’t stop at the page. Early reading skills are strongly linked to higher socioeconomic status later in life. Adults who read regularly tend to earn more than those who don’t. Reading isn’t just enrichment—it’s an economic advantage.

Stories Build Empathy and Connection

One of reading’s most beautiful gifts is empathy.

Literary fiction, in particular, strengthens our ability to understand the thoughts and feelings of others. Through stories, we inhabit lives unlike our own, gaining insight into different cultures, struggles, and perspectives.

Books also reduce loneliness. Characters become companions. Narratives become mirrors and windows. And when we watch fictional heroes overcome adversity, we often find courage for our own challenges.

So… How Much Did Americans Read in 2025?

Despite all these benefits, America’s reading habits tell a complicated story.

According to YouGov’s 2025 data:

• 40% of Americans didn’t read a single book.
• 27% read 1–4 books.
• 13% read 5–9 books.
• 19% read 10 or more books.

The patterns behind the numbers are just as revealing:

• Education: People with more education read more books.
• Age: Adults 65+ read significantly more than younger Americans.
• Civic engagement: People who follow public affairs read more—regardless of political identity.

The deeper truth? Readers tend to be more connected to the world around them. They’re more informed, more engaged, and more resilient.

Why These Numbers Matter

These statistics aren’t just about books—they’re about the kind of society we’re building.

Reading strengthens the brain, supports emotional well‑being, deepens empathy, reduces loneliness, and contributes to longer, healthier lives. When 40% of Americans read no books in a year, it’s not a moral failing—it’s a missed opportunity for personal and collective flourishing.

The data offers an invitation: rediscover the transformative power of the written word.

How to Build a Reading Habit That Actually Sticks

A reading habit isn’t about willpower. It’s about designing your environment and routines so reading becomes the easiest choice in the room.

Optimize Your Environment

·        Make it obvious: Put a book on your pillow each morning. This acts as a visual cue to read before sleep.

·        Reduce friction: Always carry a book or e-reader so you can use "dead time"—like waiting for an appointment or commuting—to read a few pages.

·        Digital discipline: Move reading apps to your home screen; bury social media in folders.

Start Ridiculously Small

·        Two‑minute rule: Commit to reading just one page or for just two minutes a day. The goal is to master the art of showing up rather than the volume of reading.

·        Consistency beats intensity: Daily repetition rewires the brain.  Your brain responds better to small, daily repetition than infrequent marathon sessions. 

Use Habit Stacking

·        Attach reading to something you already do: "After I [current habit], I will [read one page]".  For example, read for five minutes after your morning coffee or right after you finish dinner.

Read What You Actually Enjoy

·        Ditch the “shoulds.”  Avoid books you feel you should read but find boring. Motivation vanishes when reading feels like a chore.

·        Give yourself permission to quit books that don’t spark interest. If a book isn't grabbing you, give yourself permission to stop and pick up something that excites you. 

Track and Celebrate Progress

·        Use apps like Goodreads or The StoryGraph to log your progress. Seeing a streak or a finished list provides a dopamine reward that reinforces the habit.

If reading is a superpower, it’s one that anyone can reclaim. A few pages a day can change your stress levels, your focus, your empathy, your sleep, and even your lifespan. And in a world overflowing with noise, reading remains one of the most reliable paths back to depth, clarity, and connection.

 

Why Millions of Americans Remain Unregistered to Vote

Back in September, I spent some time digging into the 2024 election data from the U.S. Federal Election Commission and the Census Bureau. What I found was sobering: as I wrote in Democracy by Default: When Silence Elects the President, more than a quarter of eligible Americans in 2024 were not registered to vote.

Not long after, a friend asked me a deceptively simple question: Why? Why do so many millions of eligible citizens remain outside the electorate? I told her I’d need to think about it. And I did.

The answer, as it turns out, isn’t a single reason but a web of them—structural, emotional, economic, and logistical. Understanding this landscape helps explain why registration remains a barrier for so many, even before they ever reach a ballot box.

Structural Barriers and Legal Complexities

Unlike many democracies where voter registration is automatic or government‑facilitated, the United States places the responsibility squarely on individuals. That “do‑it‑yourself” model is further complicated by state‑level rules that vary dramatically in both accessibility and restrictiveness.

• Burdensome Laws: Strict voter ID requirements, narrow registration windows, and early deadlines can discourage participation—especially among first‑time voters or anyone unfamiliar with the process.
• Inaccessibility and Cost: Essential documents like birth certificates or passports cost money and time to obtain. These hurdles fall hardest on low‑income communities and communities of color.
• Vulnerable Populations: Young adults, people with disabilities, and those experiencing homelessness often face unstable addresses, limited transportation, or difficulty accessing registration sites.
• Disinformation and Confusion: Misleading or contradictory information about eligibility and deadlines—sometimes spread deliberately—creates uncertainty that leads many to simply opt out.

Disengagement and Distrust

Even when the mechanics of registration are clear, emotional and psychological barriers can be just as powerful.

• Apathy and Cynicism: Many non‑registrants believe their vote won’t matter or that the political system is too broken to be worth engaging with.
• Lack of Representation: When people feel that no candidate or party speaks to their needs or values, disengagement becomes a rational response.
• Economic Pressures: For those juggling multiple jobs, caregiving responsibilities, or financial instability, political participation can feel like a luxury. As organizations like VoteRiders point out, survival often takes precedence over civic engagement.

Additional Factors

Even highly engaged citizens can fall through the cracks.

• Time and Convenience: Life gets busy. Work schedules, family obligations, transportation challenges, or simply missing a deadline can derail even the best intentions.
• Voter Suppression: Research from the Brennan Center for Justice highlights how voter roll purges, reduced voting hours, and restrictions on third‑party registration efforts disproportionately affect marginalized communities and depress participation.

Closing Reflection

The persistence of widespread non‑registration isn’t the result of one broken piece of the system. It’s the cumulative effect of legal hurdles, logistical challenges, economic pressures, and emotional disillusionment. When millions of eligible Americans remain unregistered, our democracy becomes less representative and less responsive.

Addressing this gap requires more than policy tweaks. It calls for a renewed commitment to civic inclusion, public trust, and the belief that every voice deserves a place in shaping our shared future.