The Pronoun Police Have Arrived—And They’re Confused

Because nothing says ‘inclusive storytelling’ like turning your protagonist into a grammatical riddle

So there I was, basking in the glow of having finally published my book—an achievement that required enough caffeine to singlehandedly keep the coffee industry afloat—when the feedback started rolling in.

Most of it was wonderful: engaging, insightful, and constructive. And then, one comment stood out like a sore thumb in a room full of manicured fingers.

“You should consider using ‘we/they’ instead of ‘he/she’ to be more inclusive and break away from gender molds.”

Ah yes, because nothing says gripping storytelling like rendering my protagonist into an amorphous, pronoun-fluid enigma. Could you imagine if I was writing a story about Thor, and I had to refer to the God of Thunder as “we/them”? You’d think I was chronicling the collective adventures of every thunder deity ever—Thor, Zeus, Lei Gong, and a particularly cranky storm cloud over Scotland.

And just for fun, let’s apply this logic elsewhere. Imagine I’m writing a murder mystery, and the detective’s internal monologue goes like this:

“We knew the butler was lying. They had motive, but they were also covering for someone. But who? We needed more clues before we could act.”

At this point, the reader might suspect that either the detective has developed multiple personality disorder or that the butler is a shape-shifting swarm of bees. Either way, we’ve strayed from inclusivity into full-blown grammatical chaos.

Now, I’m not against people choosing whatever pronouns make them happy. Language evolves. But the demand that every single piece of writing must bend over backwards to accommodate the latest pronoun trends? That’s where I draw the line. If I’m writing about a singular character, I’m using a singular pronoun. If I’m writing about multiple characters, I’ll use multiple pronouns.

But if I’m writing about one character and am expected to use multiple pronouns just to keep up with ideological fashion trends—congratulations, you have officially turned the English language into a Jackson Pollock painting.

The irony in all of this is that demanding people use specific pronouns for inclusivity often results in complete linguistic exclusion. Imagine a 19th-century Jane Austen novel rewritten to appease the Pronoun Police:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single they in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a partner.”

Even poor Mr. Darcy would be too confused to brood properly.

And let’s not forget historical figures. If I were to write about Napoleon, should I say: They were a military genius who conquered much of Europe, but they were eventually defeated at Waterloo? Now Napoleon sounds less like a French emperor and more like a chaotic D&D party.

At some point, we have to acknowledge that clarity matters. Language exists to communicate, not to play ideological Twister. When a reader picks up a book, they don’t want to spend half their time trying to figure out whether the protagonist is one person or an entire council of wizards.

So, dear pronoun enthusiasts, I appreciate your passion, but I must respectfully decline your request to turn my novel into a grammatical rollercoaster. My protagonist will remain a ‘he’ or a ‘she’ when appropriate. And if that offends you, well… we/they suggest you write your own book.

Until then, let’s all take a deep breath and remember: words have meaning, pronouns have purpose, and Thor is most definitely a ‘he’—unless, of course, Marvel has decided otherwise in the next reboot.