The government tries so hard to be hip and with it. But even if it manages to be on trend here and there, the government always slips up somewhere.
Just today, I had to fill out a form at a federal website. I was instructed to type in my first name, middle name, and last name. But before the basic ID, there was a pull-down menu of options for a “prefix.” The choices were Dr., Mrs., Mr., Ms., or Mx. This last option was where the bureaucrats got to show off their woke bona fides, Mx. being the fashionable honorific for those who don’t identify as one gender or another or for those who choose not to be labeled with a gender-specific title.
Mx. isn’t exactly new: It entered the Oxford English Dictionary in 2015. But it is modern, and using it signals that one is up to date (although, given how quickly today’s acceptable language is transformed into yesterday’s outdated and offensive terms, who knows how long Mx. will signal virtue).
But then, having made their declaration of contemporary social style, the federal employees designing the agency website made a comic stumble, one that shows their pretense to fashionable sensibilities was nothing more than that — a pretense.
What tripped them up? It seems they are unfamiliar with the basic conventions of the most common device of our times, the smartphone. The website wanted my phone number. And just as with the “prefixes,” before I could type in the information the form presented me with a pull-down menu with which I could specify the type of phone number. Here were the options: home, mobile, and work.
Does anyone have a “home phone” anymore? Is there anyone who distinguishes a cellphone as a “mobile phone” still? And what are we to make of that thing with buttons that collects dust on one’s desk? Having a “work” number now is nearly as anachronistic as maintaining a line for one’s fax machine. The phone is the phone is the phone. To assume otherwise is as out of date as addressing a young, unmarried woman as a “Miss.”
The pull-down menus were not done for the day. The government wanted to know if my name came with a suffix and offered a number of options. I could be a “Sr.” or a “Jr.” If I shared my name with both my father and my grandfather, I could append it with a “III.” Just in case my name had been passed down from my father’s father’s father, the pull-down menu provided me with a Roman numeral four.
There we were, assuming that the government agency was fresh and forward-looking, what with Mx. and all. And then what happens? It suggests we use hoary name suffixes. None of those numeral conventions are commonly used by women, which leads to the sad conclusion that the government promotes antiquated styles of address that leave women out altogether. One would think Washington is out to prove the paternalism of the bureaucracy. For shame.
These suffix follies lead me to believe that there is a problem with titles and honorifics, a problem that won’t be solved by Mx. alone. We need new prefixes and suffixes to fit the times in which we live. What’s the correct title for the Zuckerbergs and Musks? Mr. is clearly insufficient, but HRH, for “His Royal Highness,” may be a bit much. But how about something like “Bill Gates, Tch.,” in which the honorific is an abbreviation for “Tech Oligarch?”
Even though they aren’t people (yet), we might also want to find ways to address devices with artificial intelligence. Come the singularity, newly conscious computers might be a bit touchy about being treated as if they were less than human. No one wants to be around a computer with a grudge. We might want to establish good habits early and start using the title RO, short for “Robot Overlord.”
As for what to call the rest of us, just keep scrolling down the pull-down menu. Toward the bottom, look for WB, or Worker Bee. If that seems a little dreary, feel free to dress it up. From now on, I’d like to be known as Eric Felten, WB Esq.
Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?
