March has been celebrated as Women’s Month since the early 20th century. Despite progress in advancing women’s rights, casual misogyny persists—reminding us why this annual observance remains relevant today.
A recent case in point appeared in headlines involving Quezon City Representative Bong Suntay, who made lewd, unprompted, unwarranted, and certainly unwanted commentary about actress Anne Curtis during a committee meeting on the impeachment complaints against Vice President Sara Duterte:
“You know, ‘yung statement being the ‘designated survivor,’ it’s not illegal, it’s not criminal. In fact, it’s a process in the United States,
Mere utterance na I’m designating myself… in fact, hindi nga puwede ‘yon eh. Can you designate yourself without a process? Sinabi lang niya ‘yon, siguro nagpapatawa lang siya,”Alam niyo minsan, minsan nasa Shangri-La ako, nakita ko si Anne Curtis, ang ganda-ganda pala niya. You know, may desire sa loob ko na, nag-init talaga, na-imagine ko na lang kung ano’ng puwedeng mangyari pero siyempre hanggang imagination na lang ‘yon. Pero ‘di naman siguro ako pwedeng kasuhan kung ano ang na-imagine ko eh.”
How he connected those two points is a stretch. Yet his remarks point to a more disturbing reality: misogyny and objectification remain deeply ingrained that such comments can appear, to the speaker at least, acceptable to make in a formal public setting.
Critics were quick to point out that these remarks reduce women from human beings to objects of imagination and desire. Far from a simple misstatement—especially from a sitting member of Congress, Mr. Suntay’s language reflects how women continue to be viewed and spoken about in society.
But to view language as simply reflective understates how it is intertwined with identity and power.
How Language Shapes Identity And Society
In English, common turns of phrase reveal how masculinity is often equated with strength and courage. We tell someone to “man up” or “have some b@lls” when we want them to be brave, and call them a “p*ssy” when they are perceived as weak or fearful. The subtext in these expressions shows how masculinity is equated to strength while femininity becomes a shorthand for vulnerability or inadequacy.
Filipino carries its own set of linguistic cues. The phrase “kababae mong tao” is often used to chastise behavior deemed improper for women, pairing femininity with expectations of modesty or restraint. Men, meanwhile, are corrected through the phrase “kalalaki mong tao,” typically invoked when they display traits considered too soft or emotional. Even our descriptions of family roles carry gendered expectations: fathers are called the “haligi ng tahanan,” the pillar of the home, while mothers are the “ilaw ng tahanan,” the light that nurtures it.
These phrases may seem harmless, even affectionate. But they quietly encode assumptions about strength, authority, care, and respect—assumptions that shape how we understand the roles of men and women in society. This is before we even enter the politics of pronouns, where debates over linguistic permissibility reveal how deeply language is tied to identity and recognition.
Why The Need For Gender-Fair Language
Gendered language, then, is far from neutral. For much of the twentieth century, it was standard practice in English to use masculine nouns and pronouns as so-called “generic” references to people in general. Words like man, mankind, or the pronoun he were treated as universal stand-ins for humanity. Research has consistently shown that masculine generics tend to evoke male-centered mental images, leading readers and listeners to imagine men rather than women when a person category is described¹.
So these are not “just words”. The words we treat as universal often reveal who we imagine as the default and who quietly disappears from our mental picture.
This is why adopting gender-fair and inclusive language is important. These efforts aim to reduce bias in how we speak and write. For communicators—whether in media, policy, or public discourse—this responsibility is even greater. The words we choose help shape the norms people come to accept as natural.
But these efforts will remain incomplete if vocabulary change is not paired with belief change. Simply adopting gender-fair language does not automatically dismantle the biases that exist beneath it. Stereotypes and assumptions about gender can persist even when the language used appears inclusive.
The response to Rep. Bong Suntay’s remarks illustrates this tension. After the backlash, he offered a brief statement:
“Anne, that analogy was not meant [to be] malicious. It was an analogy based on the context of this [impeachment] proceeding. It may have been a bad taste for some; I apologize. Kung meron tayong sensitivities na tinamaan, but it was not the intention. The intention was to make a point that oftentimes, statements are taken out of context and conclusions are made. ‘Yun ang unang punto,”
This “apology” itself points to another problem in how we talk about gendered language. Instead of reflecting on the behavior being criticized, the focus is shifted to whether someone felt offended. Responsibility becomes diluted: if anyone’s “sensitivities” were hurt, then an apology is offered, but the underlying assumptions that produced the remark remain unexamined.
It’s as if gender-fair and inclusive language is simply a matter of compliance. People begin to see it as a system of rules designed to catch mistakes rather than an invitation to reflect on how our words shape others’ experiences. But compliance is not the goal; social solidarity is.
What Learning Requires Us To Unlearn
Solidarity frames language differently. It asks us to think about how our words reflect respect, empathy, and shared responsibility for the kind of society we want to build. When we speak more thoughtfully about gender, we are not merely avoiding offense; we are participating in the broader work of transforming the beliefs that shape how people are treated.
After all, sexism does not disappear simply because it goes unsaid. As Rep. Suntay’s own remarks suggest, the imagination behind the words often reveals more than the words themselves.
In life and in language, the adjustments will sometimes be awkward and even uncomfortable, but such is the task of unlearning. Discomfort should not excuse disengagement. We cannot simply choose not to talk and stay quiet about gender, because gender-fair and inclusive language is not meant to silence expression. If anything, it expands it and encourages us to speak in ways that challenge old assumptions and reshape the norms we take for granted.
There are helpful guidelines for using gender-fair and inclusive language² but language itself is living. It evolves as we do, growing and changing as society reflects and strives to do better.
The point, after all, is not linguistic perfection but social participation.
¹Sczesny S, Formanowicz M and Moser F (2016) Can Gender-Fair Language Reduce Gender Stereotyping and Discrimination?. Front. Psychol. 7:25. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2016.00025
²Kintanar, T. B., & Tongson, A. (Eds.). (1998). Gender‑Fair Language: A Primer. University Center for Women’s Studies, University of the Philippines. https://library.pcw.gov.ph/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Filipiniana-Gender-Fair-Language-A-Primer-1998.pdf
Author’s Bio Note:
Mef Marzan is an Associate Director at Evident, where she leads strategic communications and advocacy initiatives across development, governance, and social impact sectors. She is currently pursuing her MA in Sociology at the University of the Philippines Diliman, where her research focuses on how narratives shape public understanding and social discourse. She also writes pop culture commentary and personal reflections on her blog, mushmallows.
