Fresh to Death

"Jargon," as it seems, has become a catalyst to the rapid progression of cultural linguistics, ideals, and norms that we use to place ourselves in the world today. I recently heard an interview with the author Yann Martel (Life of Pi), in which he celebrated this characteristic of the English language; that it has survived and spread so successfully while others have died out or plateaued because of its willingness to change at the hands of cultural shifts.

This process of cultural appropriation of words and terms is not at all new, but it is nonetheless critical to acknowledge that it is not quite so streamlined and organic of a motion as we may imagine it to be. In an idealistic mindset, one might picture this transition as a stream; one down which language flows like droplets of water. Things are added to the stream, things wash up on the riverbank and are removed, still others change in the continuous flow onward.

This is how I would like to perceive the etymology of the English language. However, there are other factors at work. There is, of course, variance in terminology and meaning from place to place; both within the United States and outside of it, English survives on suggestion and figurative usage most of the time, rather than literal meaning (take, for instance, the word "literally." We all know how far left that has veered). We also have niche terms, sub-cultural appropriation, scientific or mathematical words, Olde English, and so on.

As of the past quarter-century, we now have a dangerous influence on our linguistic progression. Something has been introduced into the stream that not only has the power to contaminate those who drink from it, but also possesses the ability to control the direction the stream might take altogether; marketing jargon.

As a population, we have grown relatively accustomed to the prevalence- or, omnipresence- of advertising and marketing in our lives. "Buy this," and "Believe me, you need that" are familiar terms, almost white noise to our senses now, along with cereal box characters, toothpaste commercial smiles, and pubs designed to look like Cheers. Human beings are smart and critical enough to recognize, over time, that even though Coca-Cola tells us they're giving money to charity, consumption of their product is still causing obesity, diabetes, and other health issues. We understand now that cigarettes are not, as original advertisements suggested, healthy for babies to smoke. We learn.

Part of our learning process involves a categorization of truths that are indisputable, and truths that can be right or wrong. We know that smoking is BAD. We know that pesticide-free produce grown under the watchful eye of a farmer is GOOD. We don't know whether red wine is the elixir of myth, or a death trap. But we are learning. With this knowledge of what is good and bad for us come consumer trends; this is a given, as there are boatloads of very intelligent folks out there who make their money off of selling what we want to buy. Right now, what "we" as a culture want, is to consume things that are good for us. Every demographic in this country wants, in some way, to feel sustained by products they can trust; some of us want transparency in the process of production, some of us want organic, pesticide-free; some of us want workers or animals to be treated with respect and fair wages. Key word: honesty.

So we establish honesty as, at some level, a priority in our purchasing decisions. More companies that serve organic, free-range meats or hand-roasted GMO-free coffee, or sustainably-sourced herbs and spices begin to crop up. We understand more about price points and cost of production and the effects of chemicals on our bodies. We start looking for labels that seem yet untainted, like "GMO-free" and "sustainably sourced" and "gluten-free." Then the Market catches on.

So what happens when advertising and marketing begin to enter our cultural linguistic stream at this pivotal moment; in a way that is slightly more irrefutable than marketing language of the past? Our culture, from the PTA to the FDA, is still debating the validity and worth of statements like "sugar-free," "low-fat," and "rich in vitamins" (foods usually high in aspartame, simple carbohydrates and other vague additives). But what we thought we were certain of is that "free-range" meant grass-not-cages; that "chemical-free" meant no-chemicals-allowed.

Then, we realize that these words are not under lock and key. Brands built on trust and transparency may use these terms, but that doesn't mean big-whigs are not allowed. There is no Forcefield of Justice around jargon that describes healthy living. This means that as more of us go "dairy-free," more products arise on shelves that are, technically, dairy free. However, there is a difference between organic coconut milk ice cream and an ice cream bar whose main ingredient is corn syrup solids. Yes, corn syrup solids are free of dairy. They are also not good for us in any way.

Then, instead of sticking with the flow of the river, marketers decide to alter the course, inserting new terms that mimic the existing, but without the actual meaning. For instance, "chemical-free." Things start cropping up on shelves that are marketed as "chemical-free." "Chemical-free" becomes synonymous with "natural" and "healthy." As pointed out by asapSCIENCE, this is jargon, not fact. Everything can be broken down into chemical compounds. Water, air, a banana. Nothing is "chemical-free." That phrase is void of meaning.

Take another, "superfoods." A "superfood" is nothing in particular that, when purchased and consumed, will help you to solve any problem you think you have. Goji berries are a "superfood." Goji berries are full of antioxidants, they help to regulate your autoimmune system so you can fight off illness when necessary, but your body doesn't overreact to the atmospheric pollutants that we can't help but be exposed to all the time, like smog. Nutritionists spurred this "superfood" trend, and at the time they meant well. Then marketers took it on, warped it, and slapped it on processed foods like granola bars made of enriched flour with gummies that have been injected with goji berry extract and fruit juice concentrates to produce the "essence" of a goji berry.

Health food terms are now "jargon," and the river keeps flowing. Words like "superfood" that did not exist at all until this half of the decade have taken on a true meaning, lost that true meaning, and been adopted by marketers to sell products disguised as solutions. So be wary of language, because meaning adapts, and so do we. Use words the way you think they are supposed to be used, don't be afraid of new ones, and always remain critical. Know that bandwagons are bumpy and dangerous, and fads are bad. Know thyself (hope that's still a word tomorrow), and treat what you know with respect, because that's what you're asking for in return. In the meantime, tune into the white noise of marketing messages so you can be aware of when and where and why they're selling. There is no such thing as a free lunch, or a free gift with purchase. That gift is a marketing push, and you should definitely read the ingredients list before consuming.