Speak the Speech, I pray you

Yielding the High Ground on Freedom of Speech

Fara Dabhoiwala has written a book. It is entitled “What is Free Speech? The History of a Dangerous Idea”. It was reviewed in the London Review of Books by Ferdinand Mount.

The review and the book it examines are both interesting. But this article is not a potted version of Mount’s review nor of Dabhoiwala’s book but rather an examination of a couple of propositions that appeared in the review.

The first proposition looks at the way that advocacy for Free Speech has travelled. The zealots today are no longer the progressives on the left – liberals, socialists, trade unionists. Instead they are predominantly on the right: campaigners against immigration, Brexiters, the enemies of Woke, aka Anti Social Justice Warriors, or ‘Anti-SJW’.

Mount observes that

“Thirty years ago, in There’s No Such Thing as Free Speech, Stanley Fish wrote that ‘lately, many on the liberal and progressive left have been disconcerted to find that words, phrases and concepts thought to be their property have been appropriated by the forces of neoconservatism. This is particularly true of the concept of free speech.’”

Mount asks how this all came about and suggests that Dabhoiwala’s book provides a good guide. But it is from an historical and developmental perspective and the review does not answer the question of how the shift came to be. This article attempts an explanation.

The shift in the rhetorical ownership of concepts like freedom of speech, tolerance, and even liberty from the liberal/progressive left to parts of the conservative or broader right can be explained through a combination of cultural, political, and strategic developments.

Historically the Left was the champion of free speech. It needed free speech as an essential part of its advocacy for progressive causes. Traditionally, the liberal and progressive left championed freedom of speech as a weapon against authoritarianism, censorship, religious orthodoxy, and corporate or state repression. Think of civil rights activism in the 1960s, the anti-apartheid and anti-tour protests, the anti-war protests during Vietnam and, ironically, academic freedom movements.

In these contexts, freedom of speech was a tool for dissent and resistance.

However, over the past few decades, many progressive causes have moved from the margins to the mainstream, especially in universities, media, tech companies, and cultural institutions. As this happened, elements of the left became associated with institutional power rather than opposition to it.

When in positions of power, the Left often emphasized speech norms, safe spaces, and limits on "harmful" or "offensive" speech to foster inclusivity, equality, and social justice.

This gave rise to accusations (not always fair or accurate, but politically effective) that the Left had become the arbiter of speech rather than its defender and that by doing so it had abandoned the high ground in favour of free speech that it once occupied.

This provided an opportunity for the free speech debate to be reframed as conservative and populist movements on the right began to portray themselves as insurgents against "woke" orthodoxy, using free speech as their rallying cry. Among their claims were that Universities suppressed conservative viewpoints, tech companies “cancelled” dissenting voices and the miasma of political correctness stifled open debate

This strategy allowed these sectors to claim the high ground vacated by the Left, rebranding themselves as champions of free inquiry, sometimes echoing 1960s-era liberal rhetoric.

A tactic that was deployed by the Left to resist the refocussing of free speech was “cancel culture” which became a highly effective cultural symbol — a phrase used to denote the idea that individuals could be ostracized, deplatformed, or punished for voicing controversial or dissenting views. While often exaggerated or misused, the perception that this was driven primarily by the Left fuelled the narrative that the Left had abandoned or at least compromised its free speech ideals.

It should be conceded that cancel culture and public shaming is not the exclusive province of the Left but public shaming campaigns and social media pile-ons have often originated in progressive circles, especially over perceived verbal transgressions.

Examples may be calls for people to lose jobs or platforms for making controversial or outdated statements or demands for retraction, apology, or punishment without a proportional or restorative process.

This has a chilling effect on speech in that the fear of being labelled racist, sexist, transphobic, etc., often leads to self-censorship and a narrowing of the range of acceptable discourse.

Thus, there has arisen a divergence of views on precisely what freedom of speech or freedom of expression actually means.

The progressive Left often sees free speech as a value that must be balanced with other values like equality, dignity, and harm prevention. For example, they may argue that hate speech undermines the free expression of marginalized groups.

This is what I describe as the relativistic approach to freedom of speech and it is nowhere more present than in the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 which, in section 14 provides for the freedom of expression but in section 5 suggests that the right may be subject to such reasonable limits prescribed by law as can be demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society.

The right increasingly adopts a more absolutist view, arguing that all speech — even offensive or unsettling speech — must be protected.

This philosophical divergence has made it easier for the right to paint the left as anti-free speech, even when that may only be partly accurate.

The free speech debate, especially in the United States has been amplified by the media ecosystem.

Right-leaning media platforms (e.g., Fox News, talk radio, podcasts, Substack, X/Twitter) have become powerful amplifiers of the idea that free speech is under siege from the left.

Social media thrives on grievance narratives, and stories about censorship, cancellation, or deplatforming tend to go viral — often framing conservatives as victims and the left as oppressors.

Then there has been fragmentation Within the Left in that there has been no unified leftist stance on free speech in recent years.

Some progressives defend strict limits on hate speech and call for content moderation. Others (including some classical liberals and left-libertarians) oppose these restrictions and criticize their own side for overreach.

This fragmentation has made it easier for the right to appear more consistent — even when their actual commitment to free speech can be selective (e.g., calls to ban books or suppress teaching on race and gender).

Thus, in perception and rhetoric the Left has certainly lost or even surrendered the high ground. Conservatives have successfully seized the mantle of free speech advocacy in many public debates. But whether that shift reflects a deeper, principled commitment to the ideal remains to be seen, or will a relativistic approach manifest itself.

One the other hand, the Left hasn't necessarily abandoned free speech, but its prioritization of other social values — combined with its institutional presence and internal contradictions — has allowed critics to frame it as inconsistent or hypocritical.

To reclaim the high ground, many argue that the left must firstly reaffirm its historic commitment to robust, open dialogue and avoid conflating disagreement with harm. Finally, it must be recognised that protecting speech rights is not incompatible with fighting inequality.

The Use of Language

The problem that faces the Left is that it is unlikely to take what it might consider to be the radical/reactionary steps that I have suggested. One reason for this may lie in the way that the Left has used language to regulate discourse, set boundaries on acceptable speech, and, in some cases, stifle opposition.

These methods typically emerge from efforts to promote inclusion, equality, and social justice, but critics argue they can lead to ideological conformity, self-censorship, or the silencing of dissenting voices.

There are a number of ways that the Left uses language to achieve these ends.

One way is to redefine terms in ways that can shift the debate, reframe opponents’ views as morally suspect and close down conversation before it begins by the use of “veto” words.

Some examples may be found in redefining violence to include words or ideas deemed harmful (e.g., “speech is violence”). I shall examine the question of whether speech is an “act” later in this article. Another ploy is to suggest that “silence is violence”, which implies that neutrality or a refusal to speak in support of a cause is itself harmful and blameworthy.

Then, of course there is the use of the epithet “racist” or “racism” which has been redefined as systemic power together with prejudice, which can exclude the possibility of racism by minority individuals against majority groups, depending on the framework.

The effect is that these redefinitions often establish moral high ground and exclude alternative perspectives from legitimate debate.

Progressive rhetoric often uses language that is vague, highly abstract, or euphemistic, which can obscure meaning and deflect criticism. These terms can frame dissent as moral failure, even when it is reasoned or evidence-based.

Some examples can be found in the use of terms like “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI)” as a catch-all for policies that may involve compelled speech or ideological training.

“Anti-racism” may be used used to describe specific activist positions (such as those of Ibram X. Kendi), where disagreement can be labelled pro-racism by implication. This is a variant of the suggestion that silence in and of itself is harmful and blameworthy.

Finally, terms like “Safe spaces,” “lived experience,” or “centering voices” used to prioritize certain narratives while marginalizing others.

Critical theory (which I shall discuss shortly) emphasizes that lived experience and identity (race, gender, class, etc.) shape both what people say and how their speech is received. This idea is foundational to concepts like “centering marginalized voices.” The effect of this is that who is speaking can matter more than the content of what is said.

In practice, this means progressive spaces may prioritize or amplify the voices of marginalized individuals, while dismissing or discouraging speech from privileged voices as less authentic or more likely to do harm.

Thus, speech is evaluated through the lens of positionality and power dynamics, not just logic or truth.

An alternative term for the use of harmful or unsafe, and the way that opponents are so framed is emotional or therapeutic language. This means that opposing views are not just wrong but are dangerous or traumatising. The description of invited campus speakers as “literal threats” to student safety or the calling out of controversial opinions “erasure,” “denial of identity,” or “genocide” are frequently deployed, and in a sense invoke a potential buy-in from Health and Safety.

By linking opposing speech to psychological harm, this rhetoric justifies exclusion or censorship as a form of protection.

A ploy that is used can be described as the weaponisation of identity language in that speech rights or credibility are tied to identity categories, implying, for example, that some people have more right to speak on an issue (“stay in your lane”), that others should defer entirely based on their background or privilege and that “Impact” matters more than “intent” in judging speech.

Examples in practice include accusations of “white fragility” used to shut down defensive or questioning responses from white individuals in discussions of race or “Mansplaining” or “whitesplaining” labels to pre-emptively disqualify someone’s argument based on their demographic identity.

These rhetorical moves can delegitimise opponents without engaging in the substance of their arguments.

Another ploy is the control of institutional language policies. In academia, public institutions, and corporations, progressive movements have influenced language guidelines, codes of conduct, and DEI statements.

Examples may be requirements to use specific gender pronouns or terminology around race and identity or restrictions on using terms considered outdated or offensive (even if still widely used in broader society)

The effect of this is that it codifies ideological language norms, making dissent not just socially risky, but sometimes institutionally sanctionable.

Thus, the Left's use of language has been both a tool for empowerment and a mechanism of control. While aiming to protect vulnerable communities and correct historic injustices, its rhetorical strategies can shift debate boundaries subtly or overtly, de-legitimize dissent without engaging opposing views and encourage conformity through moral framing and institutional enforcement

These dynamics have fuelled the perception—especially on the Right and among civil libertarians—that the modern Left prioritizes emotional safety and ideological alignment over open dialogue.

Critical Theory and Freedom of Speech

The Left’s approach to language—especially its use as a tool for social change, power analysis, and norm enforcement—is deeply influenced by critical theory, particularly as it evolved in the 20th century and entered popular and academic discourse through cultural and identity-based movements.

Please bear with me while I describe what is meant by critical theory, although this is very much a summary.

The term Critical Theory originated with the Frankfurt School, a group of Marxist-influenced scholars in early 20th-century Germany (including thinkers like Max Horkheimer, Theodor Adorno, and later Herbert Marcuse). Their goal was not just to interpret society but to critique and change it, particularly through an analysis of ideology, power, and culture.

As a starting point there are a number of key critical theory principles that influenced language politics.

First Language is not neutral in that it reflects and reinforces existing social power structures.

Secondly. Ideology is embedded in discourse and the way things are said can naturalize inequality.

Finally, freedom requires consciousness of oppression and challenging dominant language can be liberatory.

Later developments—especially through French theorists like Michel Foucault, Jacques Derrida, and Pierre Bourdieu—further shaped how the Left approaches language.

Following Foucault and others, critical theory views language not just as descriptive but constitutive—it shapes our perceptions of the world and the categories through which we understand people (e.g., gender, race, citizenship).

The effect of this is that efforts to control or reform language (e.g., gender-neutral pronouns, inclusive language, rejecting slurs) are understood as efforts to reshape social reality in more just ways.

Resistance to these changes is often interpreted as reactionary or indicative of entrenched bias and if language shapes how we see others, then changing language is a political and ethical imperative.

Some of the core ideas are that Power operates through discourse, Institutions maintain dominance through the control of what can and cannot be said (e.g., the “rules” of truth).

Words themselves construct social reality: Terms like “man,” “woman,” “criminal,” “terrorist” are not just labels—they produce categories that guide action.

Finally, deconstruction which is a method of exposing internal contradictions in language and meaning, often used to challenge dominant narratives.

This has led to the idea that changing language can change society, particularly in areas like gender, race, and sexuality.

So how does this work?

In the late 20th century, critical theory principles were applied to specific areas of identity and power, generating fields that placed language at the center of activism.

For example, Critical Race Theory argues that racism is embedded in legal and linguistic structures; therefore, the way we talk about crime, education, and equality must be scrutinized.

Queer Theory challenges the binary language of male/female, heterosexual/homosexual, arguing these categories are social constructs reinforced through language.

Third-Wave Feminism emphasized how everyday language (e.g., “bossy,” “hysterical”) encodes gender bias.

The result of all this is that words and phrases became sites of struggle and renaming, re-framing, and re-labeling were seen as acts of resistance or justice.

But this was not the end of the matter. From critical theory came the belief that “naming is claiming” which holds that if you can define the terms of debate, you control the ideological terrain. This is a refinement of the definition of terms discussion above.

The following are applications of the idea in practice.

One is the replacing “illegal immigrant” with “undocumented person”. Another may be framing debates in terms of “systemic racism” or “white privilege”; a third may be using inclusive pronouns and non-binary descriptors and finally describing free-market ideology as “neoliberalism,” often with a critical connotation

These linguistic shifts reflect an effort to deconstruct dominant power narratives and reconstruct them in more egalitarian or inclusive ways.

But the theory in many respects has become an orthodox position and it is this assumption of orthodoxy that has contributed to the Left leaving the free speech high ground. What began as a critical lens has become dogma, especially in elite institutions. The Left now polices language not just to promote justice, but to enforce ideological purity. Disagreement with critical theory-based language can result in social ostracism or professional consequences. Ironically, critical theory’s distrust of “truth” can lead to intolerance of competing worldviews.

Part of the problem is that the Left tends to challenge the neutrality of dominant discourses—what gets counted as “truth,” “reason,” or “free speech” is often seen as constructed to serve elite or majority interests.

“Free speech” itself is sometimes viewed as a rhetorical tool historically used by the powerful to protect their interests while marginalizing others.

The Left may be skeptical of claims that all voices deserve equal weight—because social inequalities distort the “marketplace of ideas.” And so “Free speech” without equity of access or power is not truly free.

Thus, opponents see it as a kind of linguistic authoritarianism cloaked in moral righteousness.

Thus, it is clear that the Left’s control of language is historically and philosophically rooted in critical theory, especially in its belief that language shapes power, identity, and social norms.

While this has enabled many to challenge oppressive systems and demand inclusion, it has also led to contentious debates over free speech, intellectual pluralism, and the boundaries of acceptable discourse.

Speech as an Act

One of the arguments that appears in Mount’s review is that speech is more than mere words and this is the second proposition that I want to address.

“Dabhoiwala points out that the saying ‘while sticks and stones may break my bones, words can never hurt me’ is first recorded only in 1862, but the contrary sentiment, ‘the stroke of the tongue breaketh the bones,’ is found in the Book of Ecclesiastes. The dangers to individuals and to society were considered so great that speech had to be policed and, if found harmful, suppressed and punished…

Speeches were acts. There was no dividing line. It is Dabhoiwala’s driving theme that words do have consequences: ‘Our modern distinction between words and actions, and their supposedly different potency, is just a convenient myth it makes the ideology of free speech possible, but it’s also an inherently unstable fiction.’”

The shaping of speech as an act removes it from the realm of words and places it on a level with other behaviours. Although there are some offences involving speech on the statute books, within the confines of the elements of the offence speech may be the actus reus or prohibited or wrongful act. But the concept of speech as an act is used as a justification for control, as Dabhoiwala points out.

The idea that speech is an act—rather than merely a neutral vehicle for conveying ideas—is a key concept in both philosophy of language and critical theory. This view suggests that speech does things: it performs actions, enacts power, and produces real-world effects. Once again we enter the murky pond of critical theory.

The philosophical foundation of this idea comes from J.L. Austin’s theory of speech acts, introduced in his lectures How to Do Things with Words (1962).

Austin suggests that speaking is not just describing the world—it is doing something.

Austin distinguishes between Locutionary acts – the actual words spoken (e.g., “I promise”) and Illocutionary acts – the intention behind the statement (e.g., making a promise) along with Perlocutionary acts – the effect on the listener (e.g., causing trust, fear, obedience)

Examples may be found in saying “I do” in a wedding = entering a marriage a judge saying “I sentence you” = imposing a legal punishment and a teacher saying “class dismissed” = ending a formal activity

Thus using this reasoning speech can constitute an action with real social or legal consequences.

The argument can be extended in that speech may also be an act in the political and social sense. It can declare war, instruct a mob, inspire protest, incite hatred or violence or reinforce or challenge social norms

For example a politician saying “They’re not real citizens” may legitimate exclusion, influence public opinion and pave the way for discriminatory policy.

Michel Foucault and others in critical theory argue that discourse is a form of power. Who speaks, who is heard, and what is sayable all shape social reality.

The argument is that speech helps construct social categories (e.g., race, gender, deviance) and institutions authorize certain kinds of speech (e.g., medical diagnoses, expert opinion).

However, some speech maintains dominance; other speech resists it.

Thus, speech is not passive—it is an instrument of governance, hierarchy, or resistance.

But the concept of speech as an act is particularly relevant within the view that speech may be a harm – that is language that wounds.

One example of this may be seen in the Harmful Digital Communications Act 2015 that not only recognises that speech may be causative of harm but introduces the concept of Internet exceptionalism. By that I mean that speech behaviour which causes serious emotional distress and breaches a communications principle may, if communicated electronically, result in consequences under the Act. But if the same words are delivered to a person face-to-face (as long as they don’t fall within one of the speech crimes defined by law) and cause serious emotional distress, there is no legal consequence. What is lawful in the kinetic world may be unlawful in the electronic one.

But putting that anomaly to one side and looking at the issue more broadly, especially in feminist and critical race theory, there is a strong view that some speech acts harmfully—it can demean or dehumanize (e.g., slurs) silence others (e.g., intimidation, harassment) or reinforce structural injustice (e.g., racist or sexist tropes)

For example, calling a woman a slur in a workplace is not just expressing a view—it can diminish her standing, create a hostile environment and undermine her right to participate equally

This is the basis of the legal concept of hostile environment harassment, where speech is itself a discriminatory act.

But Foucault and Austin are not the end of the story of speech as an act. Philosopher Judith Butler builds on Austin and Foucault to argue that gender itself is performed through speech and behaviour.

The key claim is for example in saying “It’s a girl!” is not just describing a baby—it assigns an identity that structures that child’s entire life. Thus repeating gendered expressions (e.g., names, pronouns, dress codes) constitutes the very category of gender.

So language is not just about identity—it produces identity.

Speech as a Harmful Act in Practice

In his review Mount develops the speech as a harmful act by referring to the publication of manifestos by mass killers such as Anders Breivik and Brenton Tarrant along with Dylann Roof and Thomas Alexander Mair.

He notes referencing Breivik:

“The shocked world was bewildered by the deliberate targeting of these innocent young people. The country’s literary giant Karl Ove Knausgård wrote an article for the New Yorker describing the mass killings as ‘inexplicable’ and delving into Breivik’s troubled childhood and narcissistic personality. But inexplicable was just what these horrible killings were not, because Breivik had written a 1518-page document explaining his motives, which he emailed to a thousand addresses three hours before he started shooting. It’s a collage of other people’s rants which he tells us he culled mostly from Wikipedia, and it blames all the usual suspects – political correctness, feminism and, above all, uncontrolled immigration – for the rot that was destroying Western society: just the sort of causes that the bright young lefties on Utøya island would have been propagating.

Since then, there have been several more of these ‘messaged massacres’. In each case, the collage of hate speech seems to provoke, shape and harden the intention to commit the act, and is simultaneously broadcast to justify the act to the world and inspire copycats – which it does.”

The fact that speech gives rise to copycats is used in the example Mount gives of Brenton Tarrant.

“In Christchurch, New Zealand, Brenton Harrison Tarrant murdered 51 people at two Islamic centres on 15 March2019. In his 74-page apologia, slavishly titled ‘The Great Replacement’, Tarrant paid tribute to Camus’s book, and to the actions of Roof and especially Breivik. Later that same year, on 3August, Patrick Crusius murdered 23 people, most of them Latinos, in a Walmart in El Paso, Texas. The manifesto he posted, ‘An Inconvenient Truth’, deplores the ‘Hispanic Invasion’ and praises Tarrant. On 14 May 2022, Payton S. Gendron killed ten African Americans in a supermarket in Buffalo, New York. His 180-page manifesto voiced support for the Great Replacement theory.”

It is simplistic to attribute these horrible crimes to the manifestos that have been released or to say that they are examples of speech as harmful acts, for they are not. The complexities that lie behind mass murders are deep and nuanced and difficult to understand. It is something of a “low-hanging fruit” approach to address the matter as Mount has done and he notes that Dabhoiwala does not go into any of this.

Mount notes – and I agree with him – that the case for some laws regulating libel, slander, … incitement to violence and verbal harassment of all sorts remains as strong as ever, though just as difficult to define and to police with any sort of fairness.

However, he suggests that hate speech (whatever that is although critical theory would have an answer) and the case for codes of conduct in public institutions, Parliament and the universities are the most conspicuous examples for continuing speech restrictions. Mount here goes further than I would.

Conclusion

I have focussed on two aspects of Ferdinand Mount’s review of Dabhoiwala’s book. It is when we look at the way that free speech has become contaminated with critical theory that we can understand how it is that the Left departed the high ground and because society, like nature, abhors a vacuum, that high ground has, to the chagrin and frustration of the Left been occupied by conservatives and to a degree populists.

I have devoted some time to the issue of critical theory. Many of the tropes and memes of that line of thinking surface especially in mainstream media. One can only wonder if this use of language has been taught or whether, in a form of linguistic osmosis it has become part of the national dialogue. I do not suggest that its use should be banned. But I offer the discussion as an aid to identification. If you favour the critical theory approach that is your prerogative. But it helps to be able to identify it as an element of the national discourse.

I can accept that speech can have consequences. But that lies not in the fact of speech itself, but in the resonances and result that the ideas communicated by speech may cause. But to make that causative link directly, as Mount does with the mass murdered manifestos is too much. Causation is deeper than that. I would prefer to be able to hear the ideas and assess them rather than have them crushed. But then I grew up in the “sticks and stones” generation when we were a little more resilient to stupid speech.