I’m a professional art history translator. I promised my Substack readers to give examples of turning gender gibberish into English. A while back I was asked to translate an article on archaeology that included a bit about “gender.” The editor explained that these two paragraphs had been sent for revision by a “sensitivity reader.” If I had translated them literally, they would have read as follows:
“Who you are as a person consists of a diverse set of factors. Part of that is your gender identity: are you a woman, a man, neither, or both? Gender identity does not always correspond to a person’s birth sex. Likewise, someone’s gender identity does not determine their hobbies or possessions.
Even so, it has long been assumed in archaeology that both the gender identity and the biological sex of a deceased person can be inferred from their grave gifts [these are objects placed with the deceased upon burial, BJ]. If these did not correspond, the gifts were often taken as the decisive factor. Assumptions were often based on the classical man-woman interpretation without taking more diverse gender identities into account. However, a grave containing an axe is not necessarily that of a man, and a grave with a necklace is not necessarily that of a woman. Nowadays, grave gifts are no longer used to determine the biological sex of a deceased person, but a wider interpretation is adopted, taking into account the significance this gift may have had for the person or for that person’s relationship with the community.”
After over 30 years as an art history translator, I can fortunately speak with a certain authority. I interfere – politely but firmly -- when I think it is necessary. For instance, a couple of years ago, a museum was holding an exhibition on The Birds of America by John James Audubon – a huge and astonishingly beautiful book, with 435 hand-colored prints each measuring almost 1m x 70 cm. Halfway through preparing the wall texts, the curator discovered that Audubon had been a highly unsavory individual. Not only had he been a slaveholder, but he evidently got his family and enslaved people to do a good deal of the work involved in the book. The exhibition texts had to be redone – and re-translated – to include some of this information. Fair enough. But the large text about the book that was to be placed at the beginning of the exhibition now suddenly omitted Audubon’s name altogether. I phoned and said that was unacceptable. If you refer to a book you must certainly name the stated author, however vile he was and however many people he exploited in the process of writing and publishing the book. Apart from anything else, it will help museum visitors wanting to look it up. The curator was contacted. Discussions were held. Audubon’s name was reinstated.
So, when I phoned the client about the archaeology text and said I was very sorry but I couldn’t translate the paragraphs about gender since they were complete and utter nonsense, the editor listened. I gave a potted history of the sex and gender issue and how we ended up in this linguistic swamp. This led to an interesting exchange. As might have been predicted, the “woman of a certain age” agreed with me but the changes had been made and approved by younger staff. I offered to turn the passage into something that made sense.
I took another look at the weird paragraphs. They contained an understanding that a person has a biological sex. Well, that was a relief. And some women were warriors. Axe does not equal man. Excellent. But the section on gender identity was obviously a complete mess of anachronistic jargon.
So I rendered the paragraphs from drivel into English, stripped of the “sensitivity reader’s” attempts to drench them in regressive gender-identity-speak. I’m sure readers will come at me with all kinds of alternatives – which is absolutely fine! There is always a measure of subjectivity involved in translation. Here goes:
“Each individual’s personality is composed of multiple factors. One of those factors is how closely a person conforms to conventional sex roles. Men are not always “masculine” and women are not always “feminine.” Nor do a person’s pursuits or possessions always reflect these qualities.
Even so, archaeologists have long assumed that both the biological sex of a deceased person and their role in society can be inferred from their grave gifts. If these appeared to be inconsistent, the gifts tended to be seen as the decisive factor. It was often taken for granted that people behaved in accordance with traditional sex roles. However, a grave containing an axe is not necessarily that of a man, and a grave with a necklace is not necessarily that of a woman. Nowadays, grave gifts are no longer used to determine the biological sex of a deceased person, but a wider interpretation is adopted, taking into account the significance this gift may have had for the person or for that person’s relationship with the community.”
The last two sentences are so sensible that I wonder if the sensitivity reader went out for lunch and forgot to mangle the rest.
A plea to everyone involved in publishing: if you come across rubbish like this, resist, object, refuse – especially if you have enough seniority and authority to command attention. Never mind the whiny objections of the professionally offended. Better still: let’s step up the campaign to ditch the ridiculous role of “sensitivity reader” so that all those concerned can be reassigned to something sensible like proofreading.
How very refreshing to read this piece! Who ever would have thought that we would need "sensitive readers" to keep us safe and untroubled? Especially from archaeologists and art historians. Crikey!
"Sensitivity reader"? Oh dear oh dear