At a very young age, I realised one simple fact which even if I wanted not to accept was ingrained in my mind in such a way that it was almost impossible for a kid to neglect and it was about language that too about the one language I grew up listening to and was speaking for most of the time and that was the almighty english well growing up I always saw english as not just a language for people and society it’s a mark of intelligence, knowledge and wisdom which made me realise that english is not just merely a language through which a person communicates but rather its a status which holds an invisible power and holds a much stronger authority.
But this language doesn’t live in isolation like society. It carries the weight of the power authority and hierarchy at its very core. Just like patriarchy where women are termed down and men are coined above in every aspect whether that may be in terms of status, authority or value our society seems to place these foreign languages especially English above the native ones. The respect,opportunities and admiration with English shows the tag often reserved for men, while native languages which are rich in culture history and emotions are treated as secondary, like women.
This leaves us with an uncomfortable yet necessary question: Is the hierarchy among languages merely about global recognition, or does it reflect the deeper patriarchal mindset rooted within society?
Language is not merely a means of communication; it is a symbol of status, authority, and social mobility. In many urban households, fluency in English is equated with intelligence, professionalism, and success. A child who speaks English confidently is admired. Parents proudly say, “My child speaks fluent English,” as if it were an achievement beyond basic communication. On the other hand, a child speaking Hindi or another regional language—even with clarity and depth—is rarely praised in the same way.
This difference in perception reveals that language carries social power. The value attached to English is not only about vocabulary or grammar; it is about prestige. It signals access to elite education, better job opportunities, and global recognition. Meanwhile, native languages, despite their richness, literature, and emotional depth, are often confined to informal settings – home conversations, local markets, or cultural festivals.
The hierarchy becomes more visible when multilingualism is evaluated. A person fluent in English and Spanish is often considered exceptionally talented. However, someone who speaks Hindi, Awadhi, Sanskrit, and Marathi may not receive the same admiration, even though mastering multiple languages requires the same cognitive effort. The difference lies not in linguistic skill, but in the perceived global value of those languages.
This selective appreciation reflects how society assigns authority. Just as certain groups are granted more respect and influence based on gender, certain languages are granted superiority based on global dominance. The hierarchy among languages does not arise naturally; it is constructed through social attitudes, educational systems, and cultural conditioning.
The hierarchy among languages closely resembles the hierarchy created by patriarchy within families and societies. In a traditionally patriarchal household, authority, recognition, and decision-making power are often concentrated in the hands of men. Women, though equally capable and essential, are expected to adjust, support, and remain in the background. Their contribution is naturalized but rarely glorified.
A similar pattern can be observed in how languages are treated.
Foreign languages, especially English, are positioned as dominant, authoritative, and prestigious. They are associated with professionalism, intellect, and global exposure. Native languages, on the other hand, are seen as emotional, domestic, and informal. They are spoken at home but rarely celebrated in formal events and social gatherings. The invisible boundary shows us the public–private norms created by patriarchy: men in public power, women in private spaces.
Even the way we react to accents reflects this bias. A Western accent is admired; a regional accent is mocked. Fluency in English is seen as sophistication; fluency in a native dialect is often dismissed as ordinary. This subtle preference is not accidental—it reflects how society has internalized a hierarchy of value.
Now the one common argument that may rise here is that the issue is about globalization rather than patriarchy. However, globalization alone does not explain why native languages are often underestimated within their own cultural spaces. The problem lies at the very core in the mindset of the people who think and measure power with what is externally dominant and views the familiar as lesser.
Just as patriarchy conditions society to view masculinity as strong and femininity as weak, linguistic bias conditions us to view foreign languages as superior and native languages as inferior. The comparison is not literal but structural: both systems handle normalized inequality.
The question, therefore, is not whether English is innately oppressive or whether native languages are inherently weak. The question is why society feels compelled to rank them in the first place.
The influence of patriarchy is not limited to how languages are ranked; it is also rooted deeply within the structure and usage of language itself. Everyday interactions often reveals unconscious gender bias.
Consider phrases like “man up,” “mankind,” or “chairman.” In these examples, masculinity becomes the default standard. Strength is associated with being “manly,” courage is linked with becoming “a man,” and humanity itself is linguistically framed through the word “man.” Such terms may seem harmless due to long usage, but repetition normalizes the idea that the male identity represents the universal identity.
On the other hand, words associated with women often carry subtle negative undertones. A confident man is described as “charming,” but a confident woman may be labeled “bossy.” A strong opinion from a man signals leadership; the same from a woman may be perceived as aggression. This biasness is not because of language but because of those society norms and traditional mentality ingrained in few individuals’ minds.
Even during childhood, boys are told “boys don’t cry,” showcasing emotional suppression as strength. Whereas girls are often described as “soft-spoken” or “well-behaved,” subtly linking with femininity. These verbal cues shape identity formation long before individuals are aware of societal pressure and expectations.
Over time, these patterns become normal. Language becomes a place of stereotypes, transferring patriarchal values from one generation to another without formal instruction. It operates quietly, making inequality appear natural.
Thus, patriarchy in language works on two levels: structurally, through vocabulary that centers masculinity, and socially, through expressions that reinforce gender roles. When these patterns combine with the hierarchy among languages themselves, the effect is powerful. Language not only reflects power -it produces and carries it.
When language carries hierarchy, it inevitably affects identity. A child repeatedly praised for speaking English begins to associate self-worth with that skill. Conversely, a child corrected or mocked for speaking in a native language may internalize a sense of inadequacy. Over time, this shapes confidence, social behavior, and even career aspirations.
Many students hesitate to participate in group discussions or social gatherings not because they don’t know what to say but simply because they are not fluent in English. Their ideas may be insightful, but linguistic insecurity stops them. Intelligence becomes measured not by thought, but by accent. This creates a silent divide between those who “sound smart” and those who are presumed not to be.
What makes this particularly powerful is its simplicity. There are no formal rules or constitutional norms stating that English is a superior language or that male masculinity symbolises strength. Yet repeated social norms makes these debates and ideas appear very natural and hence Language becomes a small model of self-perception.
If patriarchy is a system that privileges certain identities over others, then linguistic hierarchy becomes one of its most understated and used tools.
However, it would be much simpler to blame English as a language itself or assume that all linguistic preference comes out from patriarchy. It enables international communication, academic exchange, and economic mobility. Its significance is partly practical, shaped and carried by globalization.
The same way,many expressions like “mankind” or “chairman” originated in historical contexts where male dominance was normalized. Language evolves very slowly, often carrying pieces of older social norms and structures.
The issue, therefore, is not the existence of English or the inevitability of linguistic evolution. The issue lies in uncritical and unbalanced acceptance. When society fails to question why certain languages are glorified and others are not given the recognition it deserves and demands, or why masculine terminology becomes the universal norm, and that’s how inequality is quietly sustained.
Recognizing patriarchy in language does not mean rejecting English or policing every word. It means becoming aware of how power operates through daily life conversations. It means valuing multiple languages equally, regardless of global recognition. It means questioning why confidence in a foreign accent gets so much admiration while mastery over native languages goes unnoticed.
True linguistic equality does not demand replacement- it demands recognition.
Language is often described as a neutral tool – a simple means of communication. Yet, as this debate divulges, I can say it with full confidence that it is anything but neutral. The way It carries status, authority, assumptions, and innately powered structures. The gendered expressions rooted deeply in daily conversations reflect deeper social parenting. What appears simple and ordinary may, in fact, be deeply political.
This does not mean English is wrong or shouldn’t be spoken nor that native languages are the very victims rather It means that great power quietly shapes and molds an individual’s perception. It decides which accents sound charming, which words define the topic best, and whose voice feels deep,erotic and most authoritative.
Patriarchy doesn’t always shout out loud. Sometimes it just whispers and hits like a bullet piercing through your emotions and feelings – through those jokes, idioms, classroom praise, and casual corrections. It remains not only in constitutional laws or big institutions but in language itself.
So perhaps the real issue is not whether patriarchy exists in language.
The real question is:
If language shapes how we think, and thinking shapes how we treat each other, then when we continue to rank languages and normalize gendered speech – are we simply speaking and letting out our emotions, or are we sustaining a hierarchy we no longer consciously defend?
And if we begin to change the way we speak, could we begin to change the way we see? The answer remains.
At a very young age, I realised one simple fact which even if I wanted not to accept was ingrained in my mind in such a way that it was almost impossible for a kid to neglect and it was about language that too about the one language I grew up listening to and was speaking for most of the time and that was the almighty english well growing up I always saw english as not just a language for people and society it’s a mark of intelligence, knowledge and wisdom which made me realise that english is not just merely a language through which a person communicates but rather its a status which holds an invisible power and holds a much stronger authority.
But this language doesn’t live in isolation like society. It carries the weight of the power authority and hierarchy at its very core. Just like patriarchy where women are termed down and men are coined above in every aspect whether that may be in terms of status, authority or value our society seems to place these foreign languages especially English above the native ones. The respect,opportunities and admiration with English shows the tag often reserved for men, while native languages which are rich in culture history and emotions are treated as secondary, like women.
This leaves us with an uncomfortable yet necessary question: Is the hierarchy among languages merely about global recognition, or does it reflect the deeper patriarchal mindset rooted within society?
Language is not merely a means of communication; it is a symbol of status, authority, and social mobility. In many urban households, fluency in English is equated with intelligence, professionalism, and success. A child who speaks English confidently is admired. Parents proudly say, “My child speaks fluent English,” as if it were an achievement beyond basic communication. On the other hand, a child speaking Hindi or another regional language- even with clarity and depth—is rarely praised in the same way.
This difference in perception reveals that language carries social power. The value attached to English is not only about vocabulary or grammar; it is about prestige. It signals access to elite education, better job opportunities, and global recognition. Meanwhile, native languages, despite their richness, literature, and emotional depth, are often confined to informal settings – home conversations, local markets, or cultural festivals.
The hierarchy becomes more visible when multilingualism is evaluated. A person fluent in English and Spanish is often considered exceptionally talented. However, someone who speaks Hindi, Awadhi, Sanskrit, and Marathi may not receive the same admiration, even though mastering multiple languages requires the same cognitive effort. The difference lies not in linguistic skill, but in the perceived global value of those languages.
This selective appreciation reflects how society assigns authority. Just as certain groups are granted more respect and influence based on gender, certain languages are granted superiority based on global dominance. The hierarchy among languages does not arise naturally; it is constructed through social attitudes, educational systems, and cultural conditioning.
The hierarchy among languages closely resembles the hierarchy created by patriarchy within families and societies. In a traditionally patriarchal household, authority, recognition, and decision-making power are often concentrated in the hands of men. Women, though equally capable and essential, are expected to adjust, support, and remain in the background. Their contribution is naturalized but rarely glorified.
A similar pattern can be observed in how languages are treated.
Foreign languages, especially English, are positioned as dominant, authoritative, and prestigious. They are associated with professionalism, intellect, and global exposure. Native languages, on the other hand, are seen as emotional, domestic, and informal. They are spoken at home but rarely celebrated in formal events and social gatherings. The invisible boundary shows us the public–private norms created by patriarchy: men in public power, women in private spaces.
Even the way we react to accents reflects this bias. A Western accent is admired; a regional accent is mocked. Fluency in English is seen as sophistication; fluency in a native dialect is often dismissed as ordinary. This subtle preference is not accidental—it reflects how society has internalized a hierarchy of value.
Now the one common argument that may rise here is that the issue is about globalization rather than patriarchy. However, globalization alone does not explain why native languages are often underestimated within their own cultural spaces. The problem lies at the very core in the mindset of the people who think and measure power with what is externally dominant and views the familiar as lesser.
Just as patriarchy conditions society to view masculinity as strong and femininity as weak, linguistic bias conditions us to view foreign languages as superior and native languages as inferior. The comparison is not literal but structural: both systems handle normalized inequality.
The question, therefore, is not whether English is innately oppressive or whether native languages are inherently weak. The question is why society feels compelled to rank them in the first place.
The influence of patriarchy is not limited to how languages are ranked; it is also rooted deeply within the structure and usage of language itself. Everyday interactions often reveals unconscious gender bias.
Consider phrases like “man up,” “mankind,” or “chairman.” In these examples, masculinity becomes the default standard. Strength is associated with being “manly,” courage is linked with becoming “a man,” and humanity itself is linguistically framed through the word “man.” Such terms may seem harmless due to long usage, but repetition normalizes the idea that the male identity represents the universal identity.
On the other hand, words associated with women often carry subtle negative undertones. A confident man is described as “charming,” but a confident woman may be labeled “bossy.” A strong opinion from a man signals leadership; the same from a woman may be perceived as aggression. This biasness is not because of language but because of those society norms and traditional mentality ingrained in few individuals’ minds.
Even during childhood, boys are told “boys don’t cry,” showcasing emotional suppression as strength. Whereas girls are often described as “soft-spoken” or “well-behaved,” subtly linking with femininity. These verbal cues shape identity formation long before individuals are aware of societal pressure and expectations.
Over time, these patterns become normal. Language becomes a place of stereotypes, transferring patriarchal values from one generation to another without formal instruction. It operates quietly, making inequality appear natural.
Thus, patriarchy in language works on two levels: structurally, through vocabulary that centers masculinity, and socially, through expressions that reinforce gender roles. When these patterns combine with the hierarchy among languages themselves, the effect is powerful. Language not only reflects power -it produces and carries it.
When language carries hierarchy, it inevitably affects identity. A child repeatedly praised for speaking English begins to associate self-worth with that skill. Conversely, a child corrected or mocked for speaking in a native language may internalize a sense of inadequacy. Over time, this shapes confidence, social behavior, and even career aspirations.
Many students hesitate to participate in group discussions or social gatherings not because they don’t know what to say but simply because they are not fluent in English. Their ideas may be insightful, but linguistic insecurity stops them. Intelligence becomes measured not by thought, but by accent. This creates a silent divide between those who “sound smart” and those who are presumed not to be.
What makes this particularly powerful is its simplicity. There are no formal rules or constitutional norms stating that English is a superior language or that male masculinity symbolises strength. Yet repeated social norms makes these debates and ideas appear very natural and hence Language becomes a small model of self-perception.
If patriarchy is a system that privileges certain identities over others, then linguistic hierarchy becomes one of its most understated and used tools.
However, it would be much simpler to blame English as a language itself or assume that all linguistic preference comes out from patriarchy. It enables international communication, academic exchange, and economic mobility. Its significance is partly practical, shaped and carried by globalization.
The same way,many expressions like “mankind” or “chairman” originated in historical contexts where male dominance was normalized. Language evolves very slowly, often carrying pieces of older social norms and structures.
The issue, therefore, is not the existence of English or the inevitability of linguistic evolution. The issue lies in uncritical and unbalanced acceptance. When society fails to question why certain languages are glorified and others are not given the recognition it deserves and demands, or why masculine terminology becomes the universal norm, and that’s how inequality is quietly sustained.
Recognizing patriarchy in language does not mean rejecting English or policing every word. It means becoming aware of how power operates through daily life conversations. It means valuing multiple languages equally, regardless of global recognition. It means questioning why confidence in a foreign accent gets so much admiration while mastery
over native languages goes unnoticed.
True linguistic equality does not demand replacement- it demands recognition.
Language is often described as a neutral tool – a simple means of communication. Yet, as this debate divulges, I can say it with full confidence that it is anything but neutral. The way It carries status, authority, assumptions, and innately powered structures. The gendered expressions rooted deeply in daily conversations reflect deeper social parenting. What appears simple and ordinary may, in fact, be deeply political.
This does not mean English is wrong or shouldn’t be spoken nor that native languages are the very victims rather It means that great power quietly shapes and molds an individual’s perception. It decides which accents sound charming, which words define the topic best, and whose voice feels deep,erotic and most authoritative.
Patriarchy doesn’t always shout out loud. Sometimes it just whispers and hits like a bullet piercing through your emotions and feelings – through those jokes, idioms, classroom praise, and casual corrections. It remains not only in constitutional laws or big institutions but in language itself.
So perhaps the real issue is not whether patriarchy exists in language.
The real question is:
If language shapes how we think, and thinking shapes how we treat each other, then when we continue to rank languages and normalize gendered speech – are we simply speaking and letting out our emotions, or are we sustaining a hierarchy we no longer consciously defend?
And if we begin to change the way we speak, could we begin to change the way we see? The answer remains.
By: Sarthak chauhan
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