[This entry originally appeared on Clare Lynch’s blog, goodcopybadcopy]
Filling in a form recently (I don’t recall what for), I was asked to state my gender. The question was particularly puzzling as all I was given was a box in which to insert M or F.
It’s not the first time I’ve noticed this use of the word “gender” when what the author intended was (avert your eyes now if you’re of a sensitive disposition) “s-e-x”.
Such squeamishness about what is a perfectly innocuous word in this context is rife, but the distinction between “gender” and (whisper it) “s-e-x” is nice, useful and worth preserving.
What, you thought “gender” and “sex” were synonymous? Then let me point you to the World Health Organisation, which – whatever your thoughts on their handling of the swine flu non-crisis – can be applauded for providing a lucid and sensible definition of the difference between the two words:
“Sex” refers to the biological and physiological characteristics that define men and women.
“Gender” refers to the socially constructed roles, behaviors, activities, and attributes that a given society considers appropriate for men and women.
For further explanation and examples of sex characteristics versus gender characteristics, see the WHO page.
Can you see now why I was befuddled by the question? Had they given me half a page on the form to answer I could have said something like:
Well, last time I looked I was definitely physically female, but I’m not sure about the gender thing, because:
I’m hopelessly undomesticated – if it weren’t for my husband we’d be knee-deep in dirty laundry and looking forward to cold beans from the can for lunch.
I’d choose a nice pint of hoppy ale over a glass of chilled chardonnay any day.
I’d rather go to a lecture on particle physics than bake a cake.
I find shopping for clothes dull, dull, dull, not to mention rather stressful.
I’m distinctly non-plussed by chocolate.
Those Vodafone adverts about the benefits of phones for gossip leave me cold.
A quiz on Facebook told me I had a masculine brain.
So, er, what d’ya reckon?
By using “gender” as a synonym for “sex”, we risk losing a word that enables us to recognise – and therefore challenge – traditional assumptions about how men and women should behave.
So don’t be squeamish – make “sex” a blush-free part of your vocabulary.