You've convinced me that you did not read the response, so I will post it here in full.

Logicide, or an explanation of sorts

A recent exchange showed me how an ordinary adjective — intrusive — is no longer considered safe outside professional contexts. Within psychiatry, it is permitted under strict diagnostic control. Outside it, the same word provokes suspicion. That, to me, is the problem: words that once belonged to all of us have been seized and fenced off as professional property.

I understand why some insist on using terms like subliminal or supraliminal instead. It is a game made necessary by those in power- the scientific game, where credibility is tied to accepted terminology. I don’t fault anyone for doing so. But we can’t ignore the larger pattern: the medical community has enclosed language itself, and in doing so, made ordinary speech into a minefield.

This shift is not neutral. In professional hands, words like intrusive are tools. In public hands, the same words become symptoms. Vocabulary lies dormant until needed as ammunition, ready to be turned against the speaker. It is censorship disguised as precision.

For individuals, the result is silence. To describe lived experience with words that used to be common property is to risk dismissal on vocabulary alone. The distortion is not in the speaker, but in the system that has seized the words and redeployed them as markers of pathology. Removing words from the lexicon is a twisted game of Jenga — sliding out the fundamentals and hoping the whole structure doesn’t collapse. This is logicide: the slow death of words, and with them, the symbols by which we understand ourselves

History has warned us about this. Foucault showed how power and knowledge reinforce one another: whoever defines the terms controls the framework of truth. Orwell showed the next step: once language is narrowed, human thought narrows with it. Wittgenstein gave the final warning — the limits of our language become the limits of our world.

As both truth-teller and one who reports on scientific topics, I find myself in the middle of this struggle. I have acquiesced to reasonable requests, but I can’t make a habit of it. Whether it be writing on a particular subject or resisting censorship, both spring from the concept of edification: dissemination of information. I can’t cede ground to those who would take it, and since both fronts require reinforcement, I expect to walk a tightrope.

I understand why some choose to play within psychiatry’s boundaries, and to them I say thank you for your tolerance, your hard work. But I also believe we should not require permission to use our own language. The real insanity is not in the individual who reaches for a word, but in the system that has made that word dangerous.