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I’ve mentioned before the use of they and them when we don’t want to specify the sex of the person we’re talking about: ‘I met an old friend and they asked me for a drink.’ It sits with the British English practice of calling institutions they: ‘I phoned the bank and they were hopeless.’
But to be expected to use a plural pronoun for someone, at the peril of obloquy, is a different kettle of fish. A popular website, the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Resource Centre of the University of Wisconsin, explains the need. ‘When someone is referred to with the wrong pronoun, it can make them feel, disrespected, invalidated, dismissed, alienated, or dysphoric (often all of the above). It is not only disrespectful and hurtful, but also oppressive,’ it says. ‘Some people prefer not to use pronouns at all, using their name as a pronoun instead.’
How can you tell? Advice for introducing someone publicly (if they haven’t been no-platformed) is to say: ‘Tell us your name, where you come from, and your pronouns.’ It’s not just they. Alternatives to they, them, their include fae, fer, fer; per, per, pers; ve, ver, vis; xe, xem, xyr; ze, hir, hir. Talk about oppressive.
Of course, his and her are often not pronouns at all but possessive adjectives (her identity; his fault). In many languages, such as French, they agree with the grammatical gender of the noun they qualify. Jay Bernard would have to say son poème and sa identité, unless the French could be persuaded to rewrite their language specially.
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