https://www.vera.org/news/words-matt...cts-or-inmates
and https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbese...h=422027e3407e
Throughout history and across the world, dehumanizing language has facilitated the systemic, inhumane treatment of groups of people. This is certainly the case for people impacted by the U.S. criminal legal and immigration systems, and that’s why it’s so important to use language that actively asserts humanity. Many people and organizations are moving away from using terms that objectify and make people’s involvement with these systems the defining feature of their identities. But many others—politicians, media outlets, and more—still use harmful and outdated language like “convict,” “inmate,” “felon,” “prisoner,” and “illegal immigrant.”
There are better alternatives—alternatives that center a person’s humanity first and foremost. These include “person who was convicted of a crime,” “person who is incarcerated,” “person convicted of a felony,” and “person seeking lawful status.” These words and phrases matter. Choosing people-first language is a step toward asserting the dignity of those entangled in these dehumanizing systems.
Instead of…
Use…
Calling a person who was convicted of a crime a “criminal,” “felon,” or “offender” defines them only by a past act and does not account for their full humanity or leave space for growth. These words also promote dangerous stereotypes and stoke fear, which stigmatize people who have been convicted of crimes and make it harder for them to thrive.
“Until this carceral state and the people of this country begin to understand the power of the words that seek to dehumanize the incarcerated or justice-impacted people, there will never be a real and substantive conversation about criminal justice reform,” said Wright. “Our humanity is maintained and respected by not referring to us in those impersonal and definitive terms, but by acknowledging our intrinsic value as human and not by defining us by the worst day or act in our lives.”
Some institutions have created policies to combat dehumanizing language. The New York City Council, for example, no longer allows city correction officers to refer to people in jails as “packages” or “bodies.” And the Biden administration recently directed U.S. Department of Homeland Security officials to stop using “alien” and “illegal alien” to refer to people without immigration documents.
But unfortunately, dehumanizing language has figured prominently in discussions over whether COVID-19 vaccines should be made available for people in prisons. More than one governor has used dehumanizing descriptions of people in prisons to explain their refusals to follow Centers for Disease Control guidelines and prioritize vaccines for people who are in congregate settings where air circulation is poor and social distancing is not possible.
Language is powerful. It shapes thoughts and attitudes, and it can have a serious effect on how a society sees and treats groups of people. People who are impacted by the criminal legal and immigration systems are too often denied their dignity. We can all work to show them respect by using language that asserts their humanity.
As Wright said, “If you can’t see me as [a] human being, then you will never treat me as a human being. And I can never escape the parameters of the system.”
There are better alternatives—alternatives that center a person’s humanity first and foremost. These include “person who was convicted of a crime,” “person who is incarcerated,” “person convicted of a felony,” and “person seeking lawful status.” These words and phrases matter. Choosing people-first language is a step toward asserting the dignity of those entangled in these dehumanizing systems.
Instead of…
- Criminal
- Convict
- Felon
- Offender
- Prisoner
- Parolee
- Illegal immigrant
- Illegal alien
- Detainee
Use…
- Person convicted of a crime
- Person who was convicted of a felony
- Person who is on parole
- Person who is incarcerated
- Person seeking lawful status
- Person without lawful status
- Person in immigration detention
Calling a person who was convicted of a crime a “criminal,” “felon,” or “offender” defines them only by a past act and does not account for their full humanity or leave space for growth. These words also promote dangerous stereotypes and stoke fear, which stigmatize people who have been convicted of crimes and make it harder for them to thrive.
“Until this carceral state and the people of this country begin to understand the power of the words that seek to dehumanize the incarcerated or justice-impacted people, there will never be a real and substantive conversation about criminal justice reform,” said Wright. “Our humanity is maintained and respected by not referring to us in those impersonal and definitive terms, but by acknowledging our intrinsic value as human and not by defining us by the worst day or act in our lives.”
Some institutions have created policies to combat dehumanizing language. The New York City Council, for example, no longer allows city correction officers to refer to people in jails as “packages” or “bodies.” And the Biden administration recently directed U.S. Department of Homeland Security officials to stop using “alien” and “illegal alien” to refer to people without immigration documents.
But unfortunately, dehumanizing language has figured prominently in discussions over whether COVID-19 vaccines should be made available for people in prisons. More than one governor has used dehumanizing descriptions of people in prisons to explain their refusals to follow Centers for Disease Control guidelines and prioritize vaccines for people who are in congregate settings where air circulation is poor and social distancing is not possible.
Language is powerful. It shapes thoughts and attitudes, and it can have a serious effect on how a society sees and treats groups of people. People who are impacted by the criminal legal and immigration systems are too often denied their dignity. We can all work to show them respect by using language that asserts their humanity.
As Wright said, “If you can’t see me as [a] human being, then you will never treat me as a human being. And I can never escape the parameters of the system.”
https://www.themarshallproject.org/2...-incarceration
The words we use to describe people being held in correctional facilities are among the most controversial in journalism. Reporters, editors and criminal justice professionals have long assumed that terms such as “inmate,” “felon” and “offender” are clear, succinct and neutral. But a vocal segment of people within or directly affected by the criminal justice system argue that these words narrowly — and permanently — define human beings by their crimes and punishments.
The Marshall Project began addressing this issue in 2015, our second year of existence. We asked readers to fill out a questionnaire about their preferred terms, published the beginnings of a style guidance on these words and participated in a 2019 forum at San Quentin State Prison led by incarcerated journalist and Marshall Project contributor Rahsaan Thomas. However, we did not make a concrete decision about which words we would and would not use.
Now we have.
Through our continued engagement with incarcerated and formerly incarcerated readers, we have come to understand that these descriptors are not neutral. “Inmate” is the most contested. People routinely send us letters, post comments on social media and confront us in the field to tell us they find the word dehumanizing. We have learned that in some U.S. prisons, calling someone an “inmate” is tantamount to calling them “a snitch,” or even the n-word. (See “I Am Not Your Inmate” by News Inside Director Lawrence Bartley.)
We also acknowledge that, as a digital media outlet, the language we use has outsized power over the people we cover. When we write about a private citizen, our article is often among the first results of an internet search of their name. The stigma and material consequences of incarceration are so deep that what seems like a basic descriptor to journalists becomes a permanent, potentially life-altering label.
Seventy-four percent of people held in jails have not been convicted of a crime. Technically speaking, these people are “inmates” because of their physical location. But “inmate” is dangerously imprecise because it is widely perceived as an assignment of guilt.
Journalism is a discipline of clarity. If a segment of our audience reads a particular word as a slur or suggestion of guilt, that word becomes an unnecessary distraction from our actual work. Given the systemic racism and classism embedded in the U.S. criminal justice system, language about incarceration places an undue burden on people of color and poor people.
Finally, we have at least some evidence of what terms our readers prefer. Of the more than 200 people who filled out our questionnaire, 38% chose “incarcerated person,” 23% chose “prisoner” and only 10% picked “inmate.” Notably, 30% selected “other,” which encompasses “person in prison,” “man or woman” or an individual name.
For these reasons, The Marshall Project has developed a policy based on the logic of “people-first” language. Originally developed by people with disabilities, people-first language avoids turning one aspect of a person’s life into an all-encompassing label.
It’s important to note that our policy is not an attempt to exonerate anyone or minimize the impact of crime on people victimized by it. It is designed to promote precision and accuracy and to convey the humanity of people who are routinely dehumanized by the media and society. Here are the specifics:
We will apply this policy to all of our work moving forward and invite other publications to reevaluate the language that they use to describe incarceration.
The Marshall Project began addressing this issue in 2015, our second year of existence. We asked readers to fill out a questionnaire about their preferred terms, published the beginnings of a style guidance on these words and participated in a 2019 forum at San Quentin State Prison led by incarcerated journalist and Marshall Project contributor Rahsaan Thomas. However, we did not make a concrete decision about which words we would and would not use.
Now we have.
Through our continued engagement with incarcerated and formerly incarcerated readers, we have come to understand that these descriptors are not neutral. “Inmate” is the most contested. People routinely send us letters, post comments on social media and confront us in the field to tell us they find the word dehumanizing. We have learned that in some U.S. prisons, calling someone an “inmate” is tantamount to calling them “a snitch,” or even the n-word. (See “I Am Not Your Inmate” by News Inside Director Lawrence Bartley.)
We also acknowledge that, as a digital media outlet, the language we use has outsized power over the people we cover. When we write about a private citizen, our article is often among the first results of an internet search of their name. The stigma and material consequences of incarceration are so deep that what seems like a basic descriptor to journalists becomes a permanent, potentially life-altering label.
Seventy-four percent of people held in jails have not been convicted of a crime. Technically speaking, these people are “inmates” because of their physical location. But “inmate” is dangerously imprecise because it is widely perceived as an assignment of guilt.
Journalism is a discipline of clarity. If a segment of our audience reads a particular word as a slur or suggestion of guilt, that word becomes an unnecessary distraction from our actual work. Given the systemic racism and classism embedded in the U.S. criminal justice system, language about incarceration places an undue burden on people of color and poor people.
Finally, we have at least some evidence of what terms our readers prefer. Of the more than 200 people who filled out our questionnaire, 38% chose “incarcerated person,” 23% chose “prisoner” and only 10% picked “inmate.” Notably, 30% selected “other,” which encompasses “person in prison,” “man or woman” or an individual name.
For these reasons, The Marshall Project has developed a policy based on the logic of “people-first” language. Originally developed by people with disabilities, people-first language avoids turning one aspect of a person’s life into an all-encompassing label.
It’s important to note that our policy is not an attempt to exonerate anyone or minimize the impact of crime on people victimized by it. It is designed to promote precision and accuracy and to convey the humanity of people who are routinely dehumanized by the media and society. Here are the specifics:
- We do not call people confined in correctional facilities “inmates” or “convicts.” We use constructions that include “person” or “people,” a subject’s name and/or fixed biographical characteristics like age or state. Examples:
“incarcerated people”
“imprisoned people”
“people in prison”
“people in jail”
“people jailed in X facility.”
“formerly incarcerated people”
“John Doe, who was incarcerated at FCI Memphis...”
“Jane Doe, who is serving 12 years in San Quentin State Prison…”
“Held in Rikers Island Jail for three years without a trial, Kalief Browder...”
“A 34-year-old detained in Los Angeles County Jail…”
“Imprisoned in 1989, Joe Doe has filed an appeal.” - We apply the same logic to “felon,” “offender,” “sex offender,” “offense,” “parolee” and “probationer.”
“Jane Doe was convicted of felony robbery.”
“John Doe is registered as a sex offender in Iowa...”
“Joe Doe was on trial for criminal loitering, a low-level offense.”
“Jane Doe was placed on probation in June.”
“On parole in New Mexico, John Doe…” - In the interest of brevity, particularly in headlines, we’ve made exceptions for “prisoner” and “prisoners” when referring to people in prison. Although many advocates would disagree, we have found that “prisoner” is considerably less fraught than the aforementioned terms. In popular usage, “prisoner” conveys a physical or mental state of being rather than an identity.
- We do not change terms of incarceration in quotes, personal essays or as-told-to essays. We must accurately reflect how interview subjects and essayists think and speak.
- As with all style rules, these are fluid. Language evolves and we will respond as it changes. As we do so, we will be guided by people-first principles and the journalistic duties of clarity and avoiding euphemism. For example, we do not use “returning citizen.” While the term resonates with many of the formerly incarcerated people we encounter, it is unclear in multiple contexts, including immigration status and nationality.
We will apply this policy to all of our work moving forward and invite other publications to reevaluate the language that they use to describe incarceration.
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