Missus, Will You?

At a party this weekend, I found myself involved in a feminist discussion of why the words ‘Miss’ and ‘Mrs’ should be universally replaced with ‘Ms’. As a former ‘Miss’ and current ‘Mrs’, I found myself both agreeing and disagreeing with the argument. Certainly, the origins of distinguishing a woman’s availability while ignoring a man’s is rooted in patriarchal history, and the disparity is both obvious and undeniable. Neither do I see anything wrong with ‘Ms’, despite not choosing to adopt it myself. But at the same time, I don’t believe the genesis of any word – unpleasant or otherwise – constitutes the be-all, end-all of its usage. The terms remain not because of patriarchy, but because the distinction they make between married and unmarried still exists. In common parlance, calling oneself ‘Mrs’ is no more than an acknowledgement of marital attachment, just as ‘Miss’ denotes the opposite.

That no such qualifiers have entered the language on the male side is purely historical. While this still concerns a previous imbalance, the fact that the offending social norm has already dissipated makes any linguistic attempts at correction both forced and, ultimately, redundant. English is littered with the cast-off shells of old concepts, some reinhabited by new meaning, some turning quietly to dust; but it is vital to remember that the positive or negative implication of words – as opposed to their objective meaning – is determined by society, and not their manner of entry into language. Thus, previously hurtful slang terms like ‘wog’ and ‘queer’ have been cheerfully reclaimed by the groups they were originally used against. With ‘Ms’ now their permanent companion, ‘Miss’ and ‘Mrs’ need imply nothing beyond their technical meaning.

However, there is still the social question of why that information should be relevant. In these enlightened times, does it truly matter whether a woman is married? Shouldn’t she, like her Y-chromosome-sporting counterpart, be free to embrace a form of address that denotes nothing more personal than her gender? The answer is, of course, yes: and that is why ‘Ms’ is now on the menu. But rather than argue for why women should still have the option of declaring their marital status, it seems more relevant to ask, what would happen if a man wanted to make the same distinction about himself? There are two sides to every coin, and it is worth considering that while ‘Mrs’ lets everyone know the score without explanation, plain old ‘Mr’ can lead to confusion. Neither ‘Miss’ nor ‘Mr’ warns of a non-marital attachment, but while language is never perfect, the point here is one of choice. Women may elect to be known as one of three things, depending on their inclination; men may not. Certainly, we have fought for and earned that privilege, but that only seems to deepen our obligation to continue offering the choice.

Marriage – or the absence thereof – is nothing to be ashamed of. I would rather move towards a society in which we are free to declare our romantic commitments without fear of repercussion than one in which our only option is ambiguity, no matter what our gender. Ultimately, it is the social judgements with which we burden our language that create difficulties, and not the words themselves. Just as it is disheartening when women become ‘Mrs’ out of apprehensive tradition, so it is disconcerting when ‘Ms’ is used in reflexive defence. As long as the choice is ours to exercise, we should do so out of individual preference, and not because of what we worry anyone else might think. ‘Mrs’ ‘Miss’ or ‘Ms’, we are still far more than any one syllable can convey – so why quibble over someone else’s ‘M’?