What Happened to the Pig?
And other mysteries hiding in your vocabulary.
There’s a linguistic magic show happening all around us.
No rabbits.
Just disappearing truths.
Watch closely:
A pig goes into the sentence…
a bacon strip comes out.
✨ Ta-da! No more snout, no more personality, no more pig.
Same trick happens everywhere.
A messy, stressed-out human being → a consumer
(as if their entire soul could be distilled into receipts and a wishlist)
A person who spends their days solving problems we don’t understand → a resource
(as if curiosity and courage were office supplies you can reorder in bulk)
Someone who died → has passed
(as if they just slipped quietly into another timeline
and we can skip the part where our hearts change shape forever)
An entire ecosystem → a natural asset
(like reducing joy, shelter, song, medicine, climate, and beauty into one number on a spreadsheet)
Words are basically emotional air fresheners.
A couple sprays — and poof — the part that once tugged on our heart just... goes quiet.
No villain.
No dramatic soundtrack.
Just subtle vocabulary transforming reality.
Here’s how the trick works:
Step 1: Remove the who
→ “Mistakes were made.” (By whom? The Mistake Goblin?)
Step 2: Swap a someone for a something
→ “Human capital.”(Do we water it? Offer snacks?)
Step 3: Make it sound like a tech update
→ “Collateral damage” (ah yes, the children were simply… software glitches)
Presto. Ethics evaporate.
Like socks in the laundry.
But here’s the beautiful twist:
Once you notice the trick —
you can nudge the lights back on.
Ask gentle, human questions:
Who is touched by this?
What does this change feel like from their shoes?
Where is the heartbeat in this sentence?
Swap one word
and warmth returns like someone saying:
“Hey, remember me?”
From consumer → person with a Tuesday night favorite meal
From data point → someone’s grandma
From cost center → the guy who always brings homemade muffins on Fridays
The world becomes… warmer.
More three-dimensional.
We’re not here to shame the vocabulary of progress
or outlaw big words.
We’re here to play.
To notice.
To choose language that opens doors instead of closing them.
Because the moment we speak the fuller truth —
even with a smile —
we make more room for care.
“Oh! There’s a human in there.
Let’s include them.”
Bring back the someone.
Bring back the messy.
Bring back the pig.
If we’re going to build a future that feels good to live in,
it won’t be because we found the perfect terminology.
It’ll be because we kept choosing words
that help us see one another
a little more vividly.
Less magic trick.
More magic of connection.
And honestly?
That’s a much better show.
Carecrafting (v.)
Designing a system or sentence with the human inside it in mind.
“Urban planning becomes carecrafting when you ask where the kids will chase each other after school.”
Sentient Syntax (n.)
Language that refuses to forget the living beings it describes.
“We rewrote the policy in sentient syntax — like humans were involved or something.”
Tenderlogic (n.)
Decision-making that includes feelings as valid data.
“Tenderlogic guided us more accurately than the quarterly report ever could.”