Going Forward

“Going forward.” I just heard an economist use the expression on the radio about future prospects for the economy.  But everybody says this now, conservative or liberal, incumbent or candidate, partisan or non-partisan. Does it mean anything?

Nothing at all. It is a space-time filler that bridges the speaker to some necessary claim or clause.  It’s an empty interjection, like “for better or worse” or “as it happens” or “at the end of the day,” none of which add anything to the sentences they decorate.  They just add length, if not weight, to a naked statement that could not be left unclothed.

What is interesting about these empty remarks is their historical significance. Why is it suddenly necessary to state we are “going forward”? Is there some serious doubt about this? Is it that we want to be abruptly removed from the present or that we dread the prospects of staying here?  Is there a constituency that opposes our “going forward” and we have to take a stand against them? Do we need to be reminded where we are going? (Not backward). Or do we simply need something to say that will rouse a consensus, as opposed to a filibuster?

Personally I believe that last explanation makes sense. In an election year everything seems to be contested. Everything can be either good or bad: government, religion, public education, competition, cooperation, peace, the National Football League.  What the incumbent believes, the candidate must oppose.  The airwaves are bristling with contrary sounds: “The Senator has long said ‘yes,’ but I have always preferred ‘no.’ How can we elect someone who collaborates with ‘yes’?” The relentless back and forth gives a feeling of inertia. We are stuck between “yes” and “no’ and no one can deliver us until November 6.

Then the voice of hope sings out “Going forward” and suddenly we believe we are moving–somewhere!  Where that “forward” may be is still a mystery, but it is not “back there.” What a relief!

This cautious optimism captures the spirit of the age. We are going somewhere! We are creating distance from the past! We are making tracks and clearing the path. To where? No idea!

If my historical theory is correct, the phrase “Going forward” will disappear in mid-November, and we will nurture a new mindless phrase.  Something like “Enjoying a breather.”

 

 

Metaphors, Money, and Speech

Perhaps the dialogue across the pages of the New York Times on Tuesday, April 12 was accidental, but it was fascinating, just the same. On one side David Brooks reminded us of the importance of metaphor as our lens for seeing reality. On the other side the lead  editorial warned us that the Supreme Court may change the metaphor of money enabling speech in political campaigns to money being the equivalent of speech and therefore deserving the same protection as speech. Both articles suggest we ought to watch what we say and be wary of what we hear.

Commenting on the research of linguists, such as James Geary ( I Is an Other) and George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Brooks reminded us to be alert to the metaphors we use:

It’s to be aware of how imprecise our most important thinking is. It’s to be aware of the constant need to question metaphors with data–to separate the living from the dead ones, and the authentic metaphors that seek to illuminate the world form the tinny advertising and political metaphors that seek to manipulate it.

In the context of the upcoming budget debate these words could not be more timely. Just as poignantly, they address the debate about the financing of political campaigns and whether the right to uninhibited spending is protected by the First Amendment. The legal question must be complex ( or why would the Supreme Court be so sharply divided?), but the ethical question seems pretty stark to me.

“Money talks.” This seems to be the Supreme Court’s metaphorical view of campaign funding. I have never heard this expression used without some rueful implication that money has more influence than words.  No one says, “Money  should talk” or “We should pay attention to money more than speech.”   It is regrettable that “money talks,” and that valuable social programs are being slashed because of deficits, not because of their value to society. Perhaps it is reasonable to pay attention to funding, but it is not preferable.

So when a legislative or judicial body has the opportunity to curb the realities of funding, to curtail the power of money, it should ethically seize that responsibility.  The law should not maintain, but improve the status quo.  The law should not empower the powerful, but protect the weak.  The ethical responsibility of lawmakers and law mediators is clear.

Consider the regulation of speech. What if we allowed those with access to the press and publication to use language to slander and malign a person’s reputation? Those with the sharpest pens and most demented imaginations could wreak havoc on people they disliked. Instead the law curbs language which unfairly scars our reputations.  This is a fair restriction on speech. No matter how abundant your store of adjectives, you can not freely unleash them on your enemies in publications.

You can come pretty close to libel in a political campaign,  but if you have good lawyers and media consultants you can avoid overstepping the law.  With a substantial campaign fund you can disseminate half-truths to a wide audience. Hence, ” Money talks.” This is not an inescapable reality, but a sad commentary.

Turning money into a form of speech is a travesty of the First Amendment. A strict constructionist should be appalled by the ruling of the Supreme Court, which allows us to use money freely to consolidate power within the ample limits of free speech.

Given the power of language, however, we might be most concerned with the metaphors we use and interpret. If the Supreme Court can conflate money with speech, what other exaggerations might be unloosed on the voting public? How much will these metaphors determine what programs get cut in the coming months or which President is elected in the coming years? That is not a subject for the law, but for, you, gentle, but critical readers. Let the reader and consumer of media beware!