The political power and effectiveness of invective “language,” according to a prominent early rhetorician, “is the keystone on which civility depends.” Of course, not just any language will do. More precisely, it is civil language on which civil society also depends. If everyday conversation began with a casual insult or a series of derisive jokes, humans would be far less likely to trust, like, and depend on one another, thereby limiting the unifying force necessary for civil or civil life. civilized. In many ways, “linguistic incompetence…is a sign of social helplessness” (Shrank 416); at least, that was the case in the lauded years of Shakespeare's London. Society in the United States being what it is in 2016, civil language is hardly considered the cornerstone of civilization – in fact, it is often seen as the main obstacle to conducting "real" conversations and approaching solutions to “real” social problems. In general, aggressive language became the focal point of the action; civil language is considered politically correct, a nuisance that, for everyone from the layman to the politician, hinders progress. All current presidential candidates have displayed this propensity for uncivil language, whether in the form of an overt threat or a sarcastic comment on an opponent's intelligence. This uncivil language is undoubtedly useful to attract attention, but it is above all used to generate trust between the candidate and his voter, to emphasize, paradoxically, the accessibility and practicality of the candidate, as well as his volatility effective. In this article, I examine the effectiveness of Senator Bernie Sanders and businessman Donald J. Trump's use of uncivil or aggressive language in their fight for voters. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay “Where there is disagreement, there is risk of incivility,” says Thomas W. Benson, professor of rhetoric at Penn State University. “In many cases, incivility is itself a tactic of political discourse, used as an indicator of sincerity, as a marker of the high stakes of disagreement” (27). Purportedly exceeding the boundaries of acceptable language demonstrates a willingness to disregard decorum in the name of candor – an “irrepressible impulse for [sincerity],” so to speak. As voters, it is inevitable that we will encounter toxic rhetoric from our candidates: it is, for better or worse, the nature of political conflict that allows, and even encourages, this level of communication. Such political invective has prevailed since the advent of democracy in the United States and generally follows a clear trajectory: a candidate lives off the rhetoric of defiance—the rhetoric of the frontier, that of tough, ambitious Americans who have built a new brilliant country. countries of the remaining parts of unexplored lands; the rival candidate must counter this rhetoric, which resonates with most Americans, by any means necessary, while desperately trying to maintain his own "frontier" rhetoric (Benson 25-26). This is what often leads to statements like, “I strongly support the Second Amendment. I own two rifles myself and hunt deer every year. And that's why it pains me to say that we need much stricter methods of gun control. » It is much easier to adhere to a rhetorical trope than to adhere to the same trope for the sole purpose of challenging it;thus, these statements also generate ambivalence, a feeling that very few people enjoy when selecting their presidential candidate, and a feeling that other candidates, who perhaps take a less nuanced approach on a specific issue , capitalize easily. Criticism can be useful here, but aggressive or uncivil criticism can be, and is, more useful because it generates more ambivalence not only toward the candidate's view on a policy issue, but also with regard to his real character and identity. The lines of what David Green, author of The Language of Politics in America, calls "linguistic disobedience" may also bring a much-needed shift in the national debate—one that "refocuses [it] on issues rather than personalities." » (Green). . This is of course much easier said than done, especially when some opponents have no qualms about maintaining the status quo when it comes to personal attacks and clearly expressing what they are against rather than what they are for . Green argues that the current two-party, two-worldview political system in the United States provides limited room for useful conversation: Of all the linguistic conventions that characterize American political discourse, none has been more powerful or n has had a more chilling effect on political communication. , than the twin dualities of “left versus right” and “liberal versus conservative.” Politicians and the media seem incapable of thinking without reference to them… [and] these classifications, these labels, once applied, not only become part of public discourse, they become essential to the way voters think… Given that Most Americans relate to these as polar opposites, how can the former communicate with the latter? These monolithic concepts of “left” and “right” automatically index the opposing side as antithetical to the identity of the other, an identity that must be maintained through language. As sociolinguist James Paul Gee notes in an article: "To know a specific social language is to know how its design features are combined to carry out one or more specific social activities [and] how its lexical and Grammatical expressions are used to embody a particular socially situated identity” (719). This becomes particularly relevant in the social language of politics which, as Benson explains, is inherently conflict-laden and in need of regular implementation; after all, who is Trump the politician without his now racist and sexist insults? Who is revolutionary Sanders without his speech about “fighting a rigged system”? These uses of aggression firmly delineate the boundaries between “us” and “them” by constructing a concrete identity through language; or, as Gee continues, "to know a particular social language is either to be able to 'do' a particular identity, using that social language, or to be able to recognize such an identity" (720). Once created, the offensive position of a politician who needs to win votes (or ensure that an opponent loses them) effectively becomes the politician himself. The social language of the uncivil and “no holds barred” politician attributed to the creation and maintenance of each identity is therefore almost inevitable. Therefore, the uncivil language (“Liberals are child-killing atheists attacking our traditions!” “Conservatives are greedy racists trying to send us back to the 1800s!”) further widens the divide between political allies and the enemiespolicies, perpetuating language barriers as they did. for decades. If this phenomenon has constantly appeared in American politics, what is creating this turmoil around language during the 2016 presidential campaign? Potentially, it is not just the aggressiveness of the candidates' language that undermines critics, but also the overall linguistic simplicity of America's supposedly most qualified individuals. Critics describe the rhetoric used as “unpresidential” and “childish” – in a very literal sense. One study found that the linguistic simplicity of current candidates' speeches is reminiscent of sixth graders (Thompson). (This was of course carried out using the Flesch-Kincaid readability test, which only quantitatively measures syllables per word and words per sentence, and does not elucidate the quality of the words and sentences themselves. same.) Thompson explains that this is most likely due to the increasingly democratic approach to voting in the United States; Long gone are the days of George Washington addressing a group of peers. People were part of this minority of well-educated white landowners. It's up to modern candidates to reach all potential voters, which often requires simplification of everything from vocabulary to syntax. This in itself is criticized as a “dumbing down” of communication, but it is even more so when these simplified sentences are littered with insults, jeers and occasional threats. Unfortunately for contemporary critics, this abusive language is not new (Benson 26-27): its aggravating and childish effects are simply evidenced by simple sentence structures and strategically limited vocabulary. Perhaps uncivil language is more acceptable when wrapped in highly academic articulation. The esoteric realm of academia, however, is much less acceptable to the general population. It is this thirst for "like-minded" candidates and an easily identifiable enemy that encourages the use of insults and sarcastic comments directed at opponents, a tactic all too familiar during the 2016 election cycle. Also diametrically opposed Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump appeared on the campaign trail (perhaps the best example was their campaign ads: Bernie speaking to a small crowd for ten minutes on a windy spring morning; Trump taking a quiet hour to address a mass of admirers in one of his own glitzy towers), their use of aggressive speech towards their opponents and the way they describe their own campaigns are at a level much more comparable. The following examples are taken from speeches given during the turbulent months leading up to the Iowa caucuses; It is necessary to emphasize that periods of anticipation and worry, even during seemingly mundane activities, can contribute to emotionally heightened speech. In the case of a fight for votes, the use of uncivil and “relevant” language is helpful and is used strategically for maximum effect. In his speech to a crowd in Muscatine, Iowa, Donald Trump describes his place among his opponents rather than "boring" his crowd with politics. The beginning of his speech is littered with “I” statements, a behavior observed since his candidacy announcement. These statements then lead to scattered praise for a campaign manager (“What a great guy”) and the crowd itself (“The people are very, very smart…we have the most loyal people.” ). This lasts about half of his hour-long speech,so when he abruptly said, "Let's talk about individual candidates for a moment, should we do this?" the crowd is more than willing to follow his not-so-subtle suggestion. For the remaining half of his speech, Trump unleashes a series of mean-spirited insults that, coupled with his one-liners, have the endearing, theatrical effect of high school gossip. Here are some examples of invective he uses in this speech: “This guy, Bernie Sanders, give me a break”; “She (Hillary) said the wrong things about me, so I had to hit her hard”; “I could hit Bernie so hard…” (Live Broadcasting 2016). Characteristically, these statements are rather vague and allow Trump to move from one opponent – ​​or even topic, since he often interjects with anecdotes – to another. Trump's insults and sarcastic comments are not hidden; in fact, they are the ones who make up the bulk of his speech and who receive the most applause and the most media attention. On the other end of the political spectrum is Bernie Sanders, who takes a relatively mild approach to aggressive language but uses it nonetheless. to create a feeling of solidarity among his supporters. In another speech to a crowd of Iowans, Sanders began by mockingly lamenting the "amnesia" of his Republican friends over the past eight years: "We wish our Republican friends luck on the path to recovery. » Considered an affront to the intelligence of Republicans in general, it seems to be the only blow openly addressed to opponents in this speech. Much of Sanders' aggressive language is actually used to address the discontent of his supporters: "You demanded," "We said we were going to take charge," "You demanded to stand up and to fight”, and so on. The blame lies primarily with his supporters, but the language Sanders uses to define them and their “revolution” against an overwhelming opponent is decidedly not the peaceful rhetoric many of his opponents deride him for (Bernie 2016). Equally apt is Sanders' use of collective pronouns: it's always "we will fight" rather than "I will fight," an example of what some define as a "socialized power orientation." Used to advance a cause rather than an individual, this language emphasizes the power of the collective group and the long-term benefits of the “movement.” Its opposite, a personalized power orientation, employs language intended to instill loyalty to the person speaking rather than the ideals they may advocate (Robinson and Topping 195-196). In the case of Trump and Sanders, who orient themselves more or less socially or personally, this affects their perception nationally, which continually places expectations on their future language. The underlying problem with language specifically used to aggravate supporters or opponents is that it is often the only identifier a candidate has. At some point in the campaign, their language becomes that of the candidate: Trump becomes his amalgam of bigoted statements, and Bernie becomes his “wacky” statements about equality and other “hippie” idealisms. Both Trump and Sanders become the voices of their voters, but in the need to constantly maintain their identity through offensive or defensive statements, they become a very exaggerated version of these supposedly undervalued voices (Brownstein). Linguistic anthropologist Laura M. Ahearn notes that the “power constituting the reality of language” necessarily influences all actors in a speech situation (276). During the vast American presidential campaign, the..