"I want a language that speaks the truth"
About this Quote
Terkel isn’t asking for prettier sentences; he’s demanding a moral instrument. “I want a language that speaks the truth” sounds simple until you hear the friction inside it: language doesn’t automatically tell the truth, and “truth” isn’t automatically heard. The line is a rebuke to the smooth, institutional dialects that launder reality - corporate euphemisms, political talking points, newsroom objectivity-as-shield. For a journalist who built his reputation by recording working people as they actually spoke, the hunger is for words that don’t flinch.
The intent is practical and radical at once. Terkel’s method was to treat everyday speech as evidence, not noise: the cadence of a machinist, the dread behind a waitress’s joke, the pride in an organizer’s stubbornness. He understood that power often wins by narrating first. If the official story gets to name things - “downsizing,” “collateral damage,” “urban renewal” - it also gets to dull the knife-edge of experience. His “language” is a counterforce: plain, specific, textured, unafraid of contradiction.
The subtext is also self-incriminating. Wanting a truthful language admits how easy it is to slide into performance, even for the well-intentioned. Terkel’s career sits in the long American argument over whose voices count as credible, sharpened by the propaganda machinery of war, the Cold War, and the manufactured consensus of mid-century media. The line works because it frames journalism not as neutral transmission but as an ethical struggle over diction itself: say it cleanly, or you’re already lying.
The intent is practical and radical at once. Terkel’s method was to treat everyday speech as evidence, not noise: the cadence of a machinist, the dread behind a waitress’s joke, the pride in an organizer’s stubbornness. He understood that power often wins by narrating first. If the official story gets to name things - “downsizing,” “collateral damage,” “urban renewal” - it also gets to dull the knife-edge of experience. His “language” is a counterforce: plain, specific, textured, unafraid of contradiction.
The subtext is also self-incriminating. Wanting a truthful language admits how easy it is to slide into performance, even for the well-intentioned. Terkel’s career sits in the long American argument over whose voices count as credible, sharpened by the propaganda machinery of war, the Cold War, and the manufactured consensus of mid-century media. The line works because it frames journalism not as neutral transmission but as an ethical struggle over diction itself: say it cleanly, or you’re already lying.
Quote Details
| Topic | Truth |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
More Quotes by Studs
Add to List




