Have you ever been called “weak”? Here’s what the word really means
Google dictionary only gives part of the definition.
- lacking the power to perform physically demanding tasks; lacking physical strength and energy. “She was recovering from the flu and was very weak”
- liable to break or give way under pressure; easily damaged. “The salamander’s tail may be broken off at a weak spot near the base”
My brother throws around the word “weak” as much as he throws his weight around when interacting with our younger sisters (and we are in our 20s and older). Everybody is weak according to him. Anyone who has debilitating anxiety is weak. Men who show any emotion other than anger are weak. And, being born and raised in the south, people who are scared of contracting covid are weak. I don’t like this word, especially the way he uses it, and I’m not really sure why.
What is the actual definition of “weak”?
The Google dictionary gives two interesting examples. “She was recovering from the flu and was very weak” and “the salamander’s tail may be broken off at a weak spot near the base.” Both of these examples use “weak” with a neutral connotation. They refer to physical weakness — weak muscles and weak energy from sickness, presumably compared to the strength/energy level before the sickness, and a weakly connected body part, likely compared to the strength with which the salamander’s other body parts are connected. Granted, I’m sure a predator or human could break off the amphibian’s other limbs quite easily, so we could call all the limbs “weak.”
It’s funny that neither of the dictionary examples refer to mental resolve or emotion. If my brother had to write the examples, they would say “the weak man was scared to bungee jump,” or “Antidepressants are for the weak,” or, my personal favorite, “only weak people with weak immune systems die from Covid.” These all have a negative connotation. And another interesting phrase that I’ve heard people say: “he has a weak chin.” What does that even mean? He has a small chin? Who cares?
“She was recovering from the flu and was very weak.” This is because she felt stronger before the illness. And me, as a 30-something year old struggling to make it? I feel tired all the time. Unmotivated. Weaker than I would like. Weaker. The “weak” qualifier depends on a comparison to something that is “strong.” What am I comparing myself to? Myself when I was a student in my 20s with a bright future. But can someone, or something, without comparison be inherently “weak”?
“The salamander’s tail may be broken off at a weak spot near the base.” Here, weak means “easily broken or damaged,” like insects. Children. Me after a couple drinks. And there are the things that are damaged under extreme stress — trees uprooted during hurricane Ida. Whole buildings flattened by tornadoes. The fires burning through the communities surrounding Lake Tahoe. But in the context of the universe, not even hurricanes are extreme stress. What even is extreme stress? What is anything?
Women, and men with the societal label of “weak” thanks to people like my brother, have been known to harbor incredible strength when flooded with adrenaline. This phenomenon has adopted the name “hysterical strength,” ironic since “hysterical women” get the weak label. There are several instances recorded, from 1962 to 2019, of both women and small men lifting up to 1.5 tons of car to save people and children trapped underneath. Sure, women on average will be able to lift less weight than a man for routine tasks. But in light of this evidence, can women truly be regarded as “weak”?
As humans, we love to label things and our fellow humans as “weak” or “strong.” The qualifier and descriptor allows us to build our reality and surround ourselves with things and people that are “strong” while avoiding and judging those who are “weak.” Usually, we give the “weak” label to people who don’t behave as we want them to behave, like my brother and emotional men. I hear people describe others who have trouble maintaining a job, and those who have trouble tolerating people and the world around them, as “weak.” But we label someone who doesn’t like looking people in the eye and who is extremely sensitive to certain stimuli with a disorder — autism. These people can have trouble holding a job and relating to the world around them. Are these people “weak”? Or do they have differences in their brain wiring that prevent them from operating the way most others do? And what about people who have some characteristics of this disorder but no diagnosis? Because they have no diagnosis, they should be able to experience life as I do, some people, like my brother, think. If they can’t act like me, they are “weak” and I am strong. We almost never take into account the context in which we are flippantly applying the adjective of “weak”.
Now the word “bitch” is an entirely different story. If you cut me off in traffic, whether you’re male or female, you are a bitch both on the road and at home. You probably beat your kids. Stop doing that.
Judgment words, like “weak” (but definitely not “bitch”) tend to be opinions that we think of as fact hidden in otherwise innocuous adjectives. “Weak” is an opinion and a meaningless word without comparison. What are we trying to prove to the world and ourselves by calling each other “weak”? We should remember, next time we think of someone and something is weak, exactly what characteristic are we calling weak, and compared to what? And if the answer is yourself, consider whether your own insecurities are causing your harsh judgments of other people.
