How Passive Voice Turns People into Criminals

Introduction: Unveiling the Power of Linguistic Choices

Language is more than just a tool for communication; it is a powerful instrument capable of shaping perceptions and influencing behavior. The choices that individuals make in structuring their sentences carry subtle but profound implications. Among these choices, the use of passive voice emerges as an essential linguistic device with consequences that extend far beyond grammar. Passive constructions, albeit unassuming on the surface, have the potential to obscure accountability and warp public perception in ways that favor or disadvantage specific groups.

In professional settings such as journalism, law enforcement, and academia, the debate surrounding linguistic framing has gained increasing attention. Researchers have noted that passive voice alters the emphasis in a sentence, shifting the focus from the actor to the action or recipient. For instance, saying “Mistakes were made,” rather than “The manager made mistakes,” removes direct accountability from the sentence entirely. This phenomenon is not limited to neutral contexts; when applied to crime reports or legal documentation, it can soften public outrage or create unintended sympathies toward certain individuals.

The psychological impact of language choices also draws interest from cognitive scientists and sociologists. Studies show that passive constructions can mitigate the perception of agency. This nuance becomes particularly dangerous when it allows individuals to unconsciously shift blame or responsibility onto victims or entities rather than the perpetrators. For example, “The victim was assaulted” detaches the offender from the crime, while “The suspect assaulted the victim” draws sharp attention to the criminal act. Such differences are subtle yet powerful, shaping narratives in unpredictable ways.

This linguistic framing often carries ethical implications. Journalists, policymakers, and researchers, whether intentionally or not, wield immense influence through their word choices. Recognizing this dynamic is critical for professionals tasked with disseminating information or shaping public discourse. Understanding the mechanisms of passive voice and its capacity to distort reality becomes essential in combatting bias and ensuring fairness in media, legal systems, and other spheres.

Language is a powerful tool that shapes how we perceive events, assign responsibility, and even deliver justice. Among the countless elements of language, the use of passive voice often escapes scrutiny, despite its subtle but profound influence. In its most basic form, passive voice rearranges the typical sentence structure by shifting the focus from the doer (subject) to the action or recipient of the action. While grammatically acceptable and occasionally useful for stylistic purposes, passive voice can also serve as a linguistic shield that obscures agency and accountability. This effect is not just theoretical—it has real-world implications, especially when used in news media, politics, law enforcement, and the justice system.

When a crime is reported with passive voice, such as "Shots were fired," the agent—the person who committed the act—disappears. This grammatical construction dilutes the clarity of who did what, and to whom. In contrast, active voice sentences like "The officer shot the suspect" leave no room for confusion about agency. The consequences of this linguistic choice extend beyond style. In criminal justice, media reporting, and even interpersonal relationships, passive constructions can subtly redirect blame, excuse harmful actions, and shape public perception in ways that protect perpetrators and harm victims.

This linguistic tactic is pervasive in mainstream news media, especially in situations involving controversial figures or institutional violence. Consider the difference between "A Black man was killed during a traffic stop" and "Police officers shot and killed a Black man during a traffic stop." The first sentence uses passive voice and erases the subject who caused the harm, making the act appear abstract and impersonal. The second sentence restores agency, naming those responsible. Such differences may appear minor to the casual reader, but research in cognitive linguistics shows that readers are more likely to assign blame, feel empathy, and understand context when the active voice is used. Passive constructions, on the other hand, often confuse or soften the perceived severity of the event.

Passive voice is not inherently evil or always deceptive; it has its place in neutral or objective contexts. Scientific writing, for instance, often employs passive voice to emphasize processes over people. However, when passive voice is used in emotionally or socially charged scenarios—such as violence, misconduct, or political scandal—it becomes a rhetorical device capable of manipulating public sentiment. It distances the speaker or writer from responsibility and allows institutions to avoid direct acknowledgment of harm. This is how passive voice, quietly and insidiously, can "turn people into criminals"—not by changing the facts, but by framing those facts in a way that shifts moral and legal accountability.

Law enforcement and judicial language is especially prone to passive voice, and the implications are disturbing. Police reports frequently state things like "Force was used," "A suspect was restrained," or "A firearm was discharged." These statements strip away the identities and choices of those involved, creating a narrative where events seem to happen on their own. In doing so, these constructions protect officers and departments from scrutiny, while placing the full weight of interpretation on victims or defendants. Courts, too, are not immune. In legal documents and court decisions, passive voice can obscure whether someone was wronged or made a decision based on bias, incompetence, or malice.

Consider how passive voice is used in cases of sexual violence. News headlines that read "A woman was assaulted" or "An alleged rape occurred" are grammatically correct but socially irresponsible when they omit who committed the crime. This omission reinforces a culture of silence and confusion around sexual violence, where victims are foregrounded and perpetrators are minimized or erased altogether. Critics of passive voice argue that such language contributes to systemic injustice, by allowing aggressors to remain nameless while their victims are hyper-visible. This dynamic is particularly damaging when applied to marginalized groups, who already face disproportionate levels of discrimination and state violence.

Passive voice also thrives in corporate and political communication, where institutions seek to minimize backlash. When a major company issues a statement like "Mistakes were made," the lack of specificity is intentional. No one is named, no department is implicated, and no corrective action is promised. This kind of phrasing allows organizations to acknowledge a problem without admitting fault. Politicians, too, frequently employ passive constructions to sidestep accountability. "Errors were committed," "Information was mishandled," or "A breach occurred" are all familiar phrases in political discourse that avoid assigning blame.

The media plays a crucial role in amplifying or challenging this pattern. Journalists have the power to choose how events are framed, and their choices influence public understanding. Unfortunately, editorial decisions often prioritize neutrality or objectivity at the cost of clarity and justice. In attempting to remain unbiased, many reporters resort to passive language that weakens narratives and obscures facts. This linguistic neutrality may seem fair, but it often favors those in power by allowing them to evade responsibility. Active voice, in contrast, demands accountability. It requires the speaker to name the subject, which makes it harder for individuals and institutions to hide behind ambiguity.

Interestingly, the rise of digital media and social platforms has created new opportunities for confronting this issue. Social media users are increasingly calling out headlines and statements that use passive voice to excuse harm or disguise truth. Hashtags like #PassiveVoiceKills and #SayTheirNames have emerged as part of a broader movement for linguistic accountability. Activists argue that language is not just a reflection of thought but a tool for shaping reality. By demanding active language in reporting and communication, they seek to restore justice to narratives that have long favored the powerful.

Moreover, research in psychology and linguistics has begun to support these claims with empirical evidence. Studies show that people are less likely to assign blame to individuals when actions are described using passive voice. In one study, participants who read about a crime written in passive voice were less likely to remember the perpetrator's identity and less likely to recommend a harsh punishment. These findings suggest that passive language not only affects perception but can have material effects on justice outcomes. If jurors, voters, or readers interpret events differently based on sentence structure, then language choice becomes an ethical concern—not just a stylistic one.

This ethical dimension extends to education and professional training. Journalists, lawyers, and public officials are often trained to use passive voice under the guise of neutrality or decorum. However, this tradition must be reexamined. Teaching active voice as the default in reporting, legal writing, and public communication can be a powerful step toward greater transparency. It enables individuals and institutions to take ownership of their actions, admit mistakes, and commit to real change. Passive voice, by contrast, promotes a culture of evasion and plausible deniability.

The use of passive voice can also perpetuate harmful power dynamics in domestic and interpersonal relationships. Abusive partners often use language that removes themselves from the equation: "You got hurt," "Things happened," or "It was a misunderstanding." These statements minimize personal responsibility and sow confusion, making it harder for victims to recognize patterns of abuse. Therapy and counseling often involve deconstructing such language to reveal underlying intent and accountability. Just as in media and law, the way people describe events in their personal lives shapes how those events are processed, remembered, and judged.

In conclusion, passive voice is more than a grammatical structure—it is a tool that can obscure truth, deflect responsibility, and manipulate perception. While it has valid uses in specific contexts, its overuse in situations involving harm, crime, or injustice can have dangerous consequences. Whether in media, law, politics, or personal relationships, the choice between active and passive voice is not just a stylistic one—it is a moral and social decision. By becoming more aware of how passive voice functions and where it appears, we can better hold individuals and institutions accountable, challenge harmful narratives, and promote a culture of clarity and justice.

The influence of passive voice extends far beyond the printed page or spoken sentence—it actively shapes systems of power. When institutions routinely use language that deflects blame, they construct a protective framework around themselves, making it increasingly difficult to challenge or reform them. One of the most visible examples of this phenomenon is found in police departments. In after-action reports or official statements, it is not uncommon to read phrases like “a struggle ensued,” “a weapon was discharged,” or “the individual became non-compliant.” These phrases obscure the actions and choices of the officers involved. In place of clear cause and effect, we are given sanitized, agentless events that feel more like natural disasters than deliberate human decisions.

This pattern is reinforced through internal police training, public relations strategies, and legal protocols that favor institutional protection over public transparency. By embracing passive voice, these institutions craft narratives that reduce liability and public backlash. It becomes not just a matter of writing style but a tactic for preserving control and deflecting scrutiny. This is how the passive voice subtly transforms individuals into criminals—not because it changes the facts of what happened, but because it distorts our understanding of who is responsible.

Furthermore, this distortion does not affect all groups equally. Racial bias in media coverage, for instance, is exacerbated by the strategic use of passive voice. Studies have shown that crimes involving white suspects are more likely to be reported using passive constructions, such as “a woman was found dead” rather than “John Smith killed his wife.” Conversely, when Black or Brown individuals are accused of crimes, they are often named outright and associated with active verbs. This discrepancy in language usage contributes to the criminalization of marginalized communities, embedding racism into the very grammar of public discourse.

Gender bias is another area where passive voice wreaks havoc. Consider how violence against women is reported. Phrases like “a woman was raped” or “a girl was assaulted” place the focus squarely on the victim while erasing the perpetrator. These statements, while grammatically correct, fail ethically. They create a narrative in which harm appears inevitable and agency-less, rather than the direct result of someone’s deliberate actions. This linguistic pattern can desensitize the public, contribute to rape culture, and make it more difficult for survivors to obtain justice. When we say “she was attacked,” we should also ask, “by whom?” Without that question, our justice systems falter.

In schools, children are often taught to write in passive voice to “sound smarter” or more academic, reinforcing early on the notion that complexity and detachment equal credibility. This educational norm continues into university and professional writing, particularly in scientific, legal, and governmental contexts. While detachment is sometimes appropriate—for example, in describing a chemistry experiment or presenting neutral data—it becomes dangerous when applied to matters of ethics, law, and human suffering. The overuse of passive voice creates a barrier to emotional engagement and critical inquiry, making it harder to assign or accept responsibility.

Passive constructions can also insulate corporate power. Public apologies issued by companies often read like evasions: “An error occurred,” “The incident is under investigation,” or “Some customers were affected.” None of these statements identify who made the error, what went wrong, or how the company will make it right. In consumer relations, this ambiguity creates frustration and distrust. More importantly, in cases of corporate negligence—such as chemical spills, financial fraud, or workplace abuse—passive voice becomes a legal and moral shield. It transforms what could be seen as criminal conduct into a vague, unfortunate event with no clear perpetrator.

This linguistic strategy is so common that it has become normalized, even expected. Press releases, internal memos, and public addresses from CEOs and politicians are often reviewed by legal teams that intentionally craft language to minimize liability. When a politician says, “Mistakes were made,” they are not admitting guilt; they are invoking a rhetorical device that signals regret without responsibility. This phrase, and others like it, has become a hallmark of institutional communication precisely because it allows speakers to acknowledge harm without risking consequences.

As we examine the cumulative effect of these linguistic habits, a disturbing picture emerges. Passive voice becomes a mechanism by which society continually fails to hold individuals and institutions accountable. It perpetuates cycles of harm, especially against those who are already vulnerable. If a government agency says, “Children were separated from their families at the border,” we may feel sadness or outrage—but who made the policy? Who enforced it? Who profited from it? Passive voice hides those answers. And when the public is deprived of clarity, advocacy and action become harder to mobilize.

This is not to say that passive voice is never appropriate. In some cases, it genuinely serves a purpose. For instance, when the agent is unknown or irrelevant, passive voice can be a useful tool. Saying “The documents were lost” may be sufficient if the loss is genuinely accidental and no party is responsible. But in high-stakes contexts—such as criminal justice, abuse, political corruption, or systemic discrimination—clarity is not just preferred; it is essential. Every time a sentence erases the doer of the action, we must ask: Is this necessary, or is it strategic?

Journalists, writers, and editors have a critical role to play in reversing this trend. News organizations can adopt editorial guidelines that encourage the use of active voice, especially in stories involving harm or injustice. Media watchdogs can flag and analyze problematic headlines, calling attention to patterns of obfuscation. Academics and linguists can contribute research that quantifies the impact of grammatical framing on public perception. And educators can teach students to question not just what is said, but how it is said. These efforts can help shift the cultural tide away from evasive language and toward a more honest public discourse.

Technology, too, can assist in this mission. Writing tools like Grammarly, Hemingway Editor, and AI-based grammar checkers can identify passive constructions and suggest alternatives. These tools empower writers at every level to make more conscious linguistic choices. Beyond individual users, organizations can implement software that audits public statements, press releases, and legal documents for clarity and accountability. Such technologies can serve as a check against institutional evasion, promoting transparency through language.

In social movements and activist circles, there is already a growing awareness of this issue. Campaigns like “#SayHerName” explicitly challenge the erasure of Black women victims in media coverage, demanding that their stories be told with full agency. Other grassroots initiatives call out passive constructions in corporate apologies or government statements, urging more active language. These efforts reflect a broader cultural push toward narrative justice—a concept that recognizes language as a key battleground in the fight for truth and equity.

Narrative justice is not just about telling more stories; it’s about telling them better. It’s about resisting linguistic devices that diminish harm or diffuse responsibility. It’s about insisting that if someone was killed, someone also did the killing. If harm occurred, someone caused it. Reclaiming active voice in our public and private language is one way we can honor that principle. It's not just a matter of grammar—it's a matter of integrity.

Some critics may argue that the emphasis on passive voice is overblown or that it amounts to political correctness. But this critique misunderstands the stakes. Language is never neutral. The way we describe events reflects and reinforces our values, our biases, and our power structures. To ignore the impact of passive voice is to ignore one of the subtle but powerful ways in which injustice is normalized.

In professional writing, especially within bureaucracies, passive voice has long been favored for its appearance of objectivity and formality. Memos, reports, and institutional updates are often written in a style that downplays individual involvement. But this style, when used excessively or inappropriately, can obscure responsibility. “The contract was mishandled,” “The timeline was missed,” “The resources were misallocated”—each of these statements omits the actor, making it harder to identify the root of the problem or prevent its recurrence. If we do not name the issue, we cannot address it.

In the healthcare field, passive voice can have life-or-death consequences. When medical errors are described as “a complication occurred” or “the dosage was miscalculated,” patients and their families may never know what truly happened. More disturbingly, healthcare professionals may fail to learn from these incidents if the language used to describe them conceals the facts. Active voice, by contrast, allows for clearer communication, better accountability, and improved safety protocols. Saying “The nurse administered the wrong dosage” may be uncomfortable, but it also creates an opportunity for reflection, education, and reform.

Even in literature and the arts, passive voice plays a significant role in how stories are framed and received. Novels and films often employ passive structures to evoke mystery or ambiguity, which can be artistically powerful. However, when these forms of storytelling are transposed into real-life narratives—especially those involving violence or injustice—they can have problematic effects. If a historical film says “millions were displaced,” it begs the question: by whom? The absence of an agent dilutes the magnitude of the crime and distances the viewer from the reality of the event. Art can be both evocative and accountable, but only when it recognizes the impact of linguistic choices.

Ultimately, confronting the misuse of passive voice is about fostering a culture of responsibility. It's about ensuring that language reflects reality, rather than distorting it. Whether we are journalists, educators, activists, public officials, or ordinary citizens, we all have a role to play in shaping how stories are told. By choosing our words more carefully—by favoring clarity over concealment—we can help build a society that values truth, justice, and accountability.

What is Passive Voice? A Brief Grammar Refresher

Passive voice is a grammatical construction in which the subject of the sentence becomes the recipient of the action rather than its performer. In comparison, active voice places the subject as the one performing the action. Passive constructions typically involve the verb “to be” combined with a past participle, shifting focus away from the doer and placing emphasis on the action or its outcome.

For example, "The report was written by Sarah" is a passive sentence. The action of writing is highlighted, while the person who performed the action, Sarah, appears secondary. In contrast, its active counterpart would be, "Sarah wrote the report," which directly emphasizes both the performer and the action.

Key components of passive voice include the following:

• Subject as recipient: In passive sentences, the grammatical subject does not perform the action but receives it.

• Use of auxiliary verbs: Forms of the verb “to be” (such as “was,” “is,” “were,” etc.) are used along with the past participle.

• Optional agent presence: The doer of the action may be mentioned after a preposition like “by” or omitted entirely.

Passive voice has specific applications in writing, such as:

1. Shifting focus: It can emphasize the action or object rather than the performer.

2. Impersonal tone: Used in scientific writing or reports to maintain objectivity.

3. Avoiding attribution: Omitting the agent can obscure responsibility or intention.

While it serves these purposes, passive voice often results in constructions that are less direct and potentially ambiguous. Understanding its mechanics is vital to grasp its effect on tone and perception, especially in contexts that influence interpretation of events or actions.

The Psychological Effects of Passive Voice in Communication

Passive voice in communication exerts subtle yet profound psychological effects on both the speaker and the listener. When passive constructions are consistently used—for instance, phrases such as "mistakes were made" or "the victim was harmed"—the focus shifts away from the agent responsible for the action. This linguistic detachment can create significant cognitive and emotional implications.

Psychologically, passive voice often reduces accountability. It inherently blurs the cause-and-effect dynamic, making it less clear who performed an action or who bears responsibility. For example, a sentence like "Funds were misallocated" omits the perpetrator entirely, potentially shielding wrongdoers from scrutiny. This lack of clarity can lead to feelings of frustration or helplessness in listeners who are seeking resolution or justice. By removing the "doer" from the equation, passive voice can also minimize the perception of wrongdoing and downplay the severity of harmful actions.

In many contexts, passive voice can also diminish emotional engagement. Active constructions tend to evoke stronger imagery and elicit more direct emotional responses. Conversely, passive statements are perceived as more distant, formal, and less provocative. This neutrality, while sometimes useful for objectivity, can hinder empathy and reduce human connection when addressing sensitive or emotional issues.

Further psychological impact arises in the interpretation of authority and power dynamics. Passive voice can unintentionally project a tone of defensiveness or avoidance, especially when used in crisis communication or public apologies. This choice of language may come across as insincere or dismissive, affecting trust and credibility.

Overall, the psychological influence of passive voice highlights the importance of intentional language use. Decisions about whether to employ passive voice should carefully consider the emotional and cognitive responses they may evoke in an audience.

Passive Voice and Its Role in Shaping Perception

The passive voice, as a grammatical construct, reframes how actions and accountability are conveyed in language. It shifts the focus from the subject performing the action to the action itself or its recipient. In doing so, it creates a subtle but significant difference in the way events and individuals are perceived by the listener or reader. This linguistic tool frequently embeds itself in narratives, particularly in contexts involving crime, wrongdoing, or ethical breaches.

One critical feature of the passive voice is its ability to obscure agency. For example, statements like “Mistakes were made” omit the subject of the action, reducing the clarity of responsibility. Similarly, when law enforcement or media reports state that “A theft occurred,” they redirect attention away from who committed the crime to the mere fact of the event’s occurrence. This usage can inadvertently soften perceptions of culpability, sometimes to the advantage of those responsible for the action.

The passive voice also possesses the potential to recast victims or inert subjects as the focal point of a sentence. In cases involving violence or injustice, phrases such as “She was assaulted” inadvertently center the victim rather than the perpetrator, subtly shifting the reader’s emotional perception. This structural emphasis can affect discussions around crime by downplaying the active role of the offender, thus altering the audience’s grasp of accountability.

Additionally, choice of voice often intersects with institutional or political objectives. Passive constructions are sometimes deliberately employed to control narratives, minimize accountability, or evoke neutrality. This tendency is particularly prevalent in media coverage and official statements, where precision in wording can decisively affect how events are framed and interpreted. Analyzing passive voice through this lens reveals its profound influence on public perception.

How Passive Voice Alters Responsibility and Accountability

The passive voice often obscures the agent responsible for an action, leading to ambiguity in assigning accountability. When the subject performing an action is omitted or downplayed, the reader or listener is left with a skewed understanding of events. For instance, in a sentence like "Mistakes were made," the use of the passive voice deflects focus from the individual or entity that committed the errors, effectively muting their culpability.

This linguistic structure is frequently leveraged in rhetoric and public discourse to control narratives. Politicians and organizations often utilize passive constructions to avoid direct acknowledgment of responsibility. Statements such as "The data was handled improperly" shift attention away from those directly involved, creating a perception of diminished fault or even victimhood, rather than active wrongdoing.

The implications extend beyond politics. In the criminal justice system, passive voice can influence public perception of a crime. A headline stating "An unarmed man was shot by police" explicitly pinpoints the actor, whereas "An unarmed man was shot" provides less clarity, potentially alleviating pressure on the responsible party. The difference in accountability between the two structures is significant.

Passive voice can also alter interpersonal dynamics. Phrases like "Feelings were hurt" or "Boundaries were crossed" often present emotional harm as an abstract occurrence rather than the result of deliberate actions. By diminishing the actor's involvement, this framing shifts the burden of addressing the issue to the recipient of the harm.

The consistent use of passive voice not only erodes clarity but also weakens moral and ethical accountability. Whether in media, interpersonal relationships, or institutional settings, this tendency underscores the necessity of recognizing how language shapes perceptions of responsibility.

The Subtle Shift: Turning Actions into Accidents

Passive voice subtly transforms deliberate actions into what seem like uncontrollable accidents. By replacing the clarity of direct statements with linguistic ambiguity, it allows perpetrators to be distanced from their responsibilities, often reassigning agency to circumstances or victims. This shift in tone creates an environment where accountability is obscured, altering how events are perceived and understood.

When describing harmful actions, passive constructions often prioritize the outcome over the actor. For example, instead of stating, "The manager falsified financial records," one might say, "Financial records were falsified." The revision omits the actor, making the wrongdoing appear detached and unintentional. Such linguistic frameworks can inadvertently assist in cultivating narratives that deflect blame or minimize misconduct.

In legal and media contexts, passive voice plays a pivotal role in shaping public opinion. Reporting that “mistakes were made” or “laws were violated” removes the identity of the violator, encouraging audiences to view these incidents as abstract misfortunes rather than deliberate acts. By doing so, language influences how individuals or groups are judged, often diminishing the severity of actions and easing public scrutiny of wrongdoers.

The tendency of passive voice to dilute accountability impacts societal consequences. It not only influences how justice is pursued but also how victims are framed within narratives. Statements such as “She was assaulted” versus “He assaulted her” demonstrate the shift: the former hides the perpetrator, while the latter directly identifies responsibility.

This linguistic shift in agency redirects the perceived origins of harm. Such frameworks provide a veil for malfeasance, complicating ethical discourse and sidestepping responsibility. Observing how and when this grammatical form is used reveals intentional choices in communication that affect societal perspectives and judgments. The language itself serves as a tool to recast intentionality as accident.

The Hidden Bias: Linguistic Framing in Crime Reporting

The presentation of crime reports often carries a linguistic bias, consciously or unconsciously shaping public perceptions of victims, perpetrators, and incidents. The framing of these reports, including word choices and syntactic constructions, has the potential to skew how events are interpreted by readers or viewers. Among the most significant influences is the use of passive versus active voice, which can subtly manipulate the perceived agency and accountability of involved parties.

In crime reporting, passive constructions frequently position the emphasis differently than active constructions. For example, stating “a woman was assaulted” in the passive voice centers on the victim and removes the explicit mention of the perpetrator. This approach creates ambiguity regarding who carried out the act, possibly leading to diminished scrutiny of the offender's role. In contrast, using the active voice—“the suspect assaulted a woman”—unequivocally assigns responsibility. The absence or presence of explicit agency in framing directly influences the emotional and cognitive responses of audiences.

Moreover, passive voice can contribute to victim-blaming tendencies. Reporters may unconsciously shift focus onto the actions or circumstances of the victim, rather than the criminal act itself. Phrases like “the victim was walking alone late at night when the crime occurred” can subtly imply that the victim’s choices contributed to the incident. Such framing may perpetuate harmful narratives, particularly in cases involving marginalized groups already subject to systemic biases.

Additionally, passive voice inadvertently reinforces stereotypes by obscuring the roles of certain demographic groups in criminal acts. When perpetrators belong to privileged or dominant groups, crime reporting may underreport their agency. Conversely, marginalized individuals are often disproportionately identified in ways that perpetuate negative stereotypes. This discrepancy amplifies societal biases.

Through subtle yet profound linguistic choices, crime reporting becomes a powerful tool for shaping societal attitudes toward crime—a mechanism that deserves greater scrutiny. Linguistic framing, particularly through passive voice, reveals underlying biases that merit critical examination.

When Language Protects Perpetrators and Blames Victims

The passive voice can obscure accountability in cases involving crime, misconduct, or abuse, shifting focus away from the actual perpetrators and placing undue burden on victims. By constructing sentences that lack agency, language becomes a tool for social narratives that protect aggressors and stigmatize those affected. For example, instead of stating “The perpetrator assaulted the victim,” phrasing like “The victim was assaulted” eliminates explicit mention of who committed the act, diminishing the clarity of responsibility.

Using passive voice in media reports and official statements can have significant consequences, as it shapes public perception of events. When crimes are described passively, the offenders may be depicted as peripheral figures, while the victims often receive disproportionate emphasis as the ones affected by the wrongdoing. This framing subtly fosters victim-blaming, leading readers or listeners to question why someone suffered rather than why another person committed the offense. Such linguistic choices inadvertently reinforce harmful stereotypes and societal biases.

Moreover, passive constructions are commonly used in legal and institutional settings, where accountability is of paramount importance. Statements like “Mistakes were made” or “Rules were violated” obscure the identity of responsible parties. Consequently, this ambiguity may undermine trust in systems intended to deliver justice, allowing perpetrators to evade scrutiny while eroding public confidence.

Elevating active voice usage in discourse related to crimes or harm serves an essential role in promoting fairness and clarity. By clearly identifying offenders and highlighting their actions, communities can better advocate for justice and reduce the stigmatization of victims. Language has the power to influence societal attitudes, and ensuring accountability through precise phrasing is a key step toward a more equitable narrative.

While the misuse of passive voice is pervasive in law enforcement, media, and government, its impact is perhaps most insidious in education. The way children are taught to write, read, and interpret language lays the groundwork for how they understand agency and responsibility later in life. When passive voice is prioritized over active voice in academic writing, young people internalize the idea that detachment and neutrality are synonymous with intelligence and professionalism. This has long-lasting effects on their ability to question narratives, detect bias, and hold others—or themselves—accountable for actions.

In educational texts, especially history books, passive voice often erases perpetrators and shifts the focus away from moral questions. Statements like “slaves were brought to America” or “lands were colonized” strip away the violent reality behind these events. Who brought the slaves? Who colonized the lands? When such agency is omitted, the implication is that these events simply happened, with no one responsible. This linguistic sleight of hand allows nations and institutions to whitewash atrocities and gloss over historical crimes. Over time, this erasure shapes public memory, national identity, and societal values.

Similarly, textbooks often use passive constructions when discussing systemic failures or controversial topics. Phrases like “laws were passed that affected Indigenous communities” remove the human agents who enacted those policies. As a result, students may understand the what but not the who or why behind major historical and social developments. This fosters a limited understanding of justice, where suffering is acknowledged but causes and accountability remain vague. If students are not taught to question who is responsible for actions and outcomes, they are less likely to become critical thinkers or engaged citizens.

This issue is compounded by standardized testing and academic rubrics that reward passive voice for its “objectivity.” In many school systems, students are taught that passive constructions sound more formal and are therefore more appropriate for academic writing. While there is some truth to this in scientific and technical fields, the overgeneralization creates a harmful norm. Students begin to prioritize grammatical distance over clarity and truth. They learn to conceal agency even when it’s ethically important to make it visible. This learned habit can then seep into other aspects of life, including how they process current events, understand power structures, and express personal experiences.

Language is not just a medium for conveying facts; it is a tool for shaping reality. This is why activists and social justice educators are increasingly emphasizing the importance of “critical literacy”—the ability to analyze and challenge the underlying assumptions in language. Critical literacy encourages students to ask: Who is being centered in this narrative? Who is being omitted? What power dynamics are at play? This framework helps young people become more aware of passive voice and its implications, giving them the tools to question and reframe problematic language.

Outside of the classroom, passive voice also plays a role in shaping narratives about public health, environmental issues, and international affairs. For instance, in reports about oil spills, it is common to read sentences like “thousands of gallons were leaked into the ocean.” While this statement conveys the magnitude of the event, it omits the name of the company responsible. This omission softens public outrage and shifts the focus from corporate accountability to environmental tragedy. When companies are not named, they are not held accountable, and when there is no accountability, there is little incentive for change.

This same tactic is frequently used in discussions of climate change. News outlets and political leaders may say, “Emissions have increased over the past decade,” or “deforestation has continued despite efforts to curb it.” But who is increasing emissions? Which industries or governments are allowing deforestation? Without naming the agents, these statements present climate degradation as a passive, inevitable process, rather than the result of specific choices by powerful actors. This linguistic framing hinders activism, delays policy reform, and confuses public understanding of environmental crises.

Another domain where passive voice creates damaging effects is in healthcare communication. In medical error reporting, for instance, phrases like “the patient was given the wrong medication” or “a complication occurred during surgery” are often used instead of “the nurse administered the wrong medication” or “the surgeon caused a complication.” While hospitals may adopt this language to maintain a tone of professionalism and avoid legal risk, it undermines transparency and accountability. Patients and families deserve to know what happened and who was involved, not just that an error occurred.

Moreover, when errors are concealed behind passive language, institutions lose valuable opportunities to learn and improve. Medical journals and case reviews often perpetuate this trend, focusing on what went wrong without clearly identifying who did what. As a result, systemic issues persist, and preventable mistakes continue to happen. Active voice, by contrast, supports a culture of continuous improvement. It allows for open discussion of failures and empowers healthcare professionals to take responsibility and develop better protocols.

The same pattern is observed in public health messaging during crises like pandemics. For example, during the COVID-19 pandemic, government agencies often used passive voice in press releases: “Mistakes were made in the vaccine rollout,” or “The public was misinformed.” These statements fail to clarify which departments made the mistakes or which officials spread misinformation. Without clear accountability, trust in public health institutions erodes. Active voice not only fosters greater transparency but also builds confidence in the system’s ability to manage crises responsibly.

Passive voice also plays a critical role in international relations and conflict reporting. When media outlets report that “civilians were killed in airstrikes” or “a ceasefire was broken,” the absence of agency can be a form of political positioning. Naming who conducted the airstrikes or who broke the ceasefire could upset alliances or spark diplomatic backlash. Therefore, journalists and editors sometimes opt for passive constructions to avoid political consequences. While this may be tactically sound, it raises ethical concerns about journalistic integrity and the right of the public to know the full truth.

In war reporting, especially, passive voice can be weaponized to control narratives and manipulate perception. Governments often frame military actions in vague terms: “Collateral damage occurred,” or “military targets were engaged.” These phrases sanitize the violence of war and obscure the human cost. The use of passive voice allows militaries and political leaders to frame conflicts as clinical, strategic operations rather than brutal, human tragedies. This dehumanization not only numbs public reaction but also complicates efforts to pursue justice for war crimes and human rights abuses.

The passive voice is also used to downplay economic exploitation. In corporate communications and economic reports, phrases like “wages were stagnated,” or “jobs were lost” dominate headlines. But these statements rarely specify who froze the wages or who implemented the layoffs. This vagueness protects corporate leadership while placing blame on abstract market forces. In reality, wage suppression and job cuts are the result of deliberate decisions made by executives and boards. Language that erases these agents makes it harder to demand accountability or reform.

Even within movements for justice, passive voice can sometimes undermine progress. For instance, well-meaning organizations might say, “Voices were not heard,” or “Inequities were perpetuated,” instead of specifying who silenced those voices or benefited from those inequities. These formulations, while attempting to express solidarity, can inadvertently perpetuate the very harm they seek to acknowledge. Activists and allies must be mindful of how their language either challenges or reinforces existing power structures.

The importance of naming names and actions becomes especially clear in the context of restorative justice. Restorative justice emphasizes accountability, healing, and the active participation of all parties involved. This model relies heavily on language that clarifies roles and responsibilities. Passive constructions are antithetical to this process because they prevent meaningful dialogue about harm and repair. If someone says “harm was caused,” the conversation cannot proceed unless that person identifies who caused the harm and how. Active voice is not just a linguistic choice in restorative justice; it is a prerequisite for truth and reconciliation.

Understanding the power of passive voice requires a shift in how we think about grammar—not as a set of arbitrary rules but as a reflection of cultural values and social dynamics. Grammar is not just a tool for clarity; it’s a tool for power. Every time we use passive voice to describe harm, injustice, or wrongdoing, we must ask ourselves: Who benefits from this vagueness? Who is being protected, and who is being silenced?

Changing our relationship with passive voice doesn’t mean eliminating it entirely. It means using it responsibly, understanding its impact, and choosing it only when it serves clarity rather than concealment. Writers, journalists, educators, and leaders must all be trained to recognize the stakes of their linguistic choices. Only then can we build a more just and accountable society, one sentence at a time.

The Impact of Media Narratives on Public Opinion

Media narratives hold significant influence in shaping public perception and steering societal discourse. Through careful construction of language and framing, they can either reinforce stereotypes or create new paradigms in understanding social phenomena. Passive voice, when employed in media reporting, particularly in crime-related stories, can subtly obscure accountability and shift blame onto individuals unfairly, fueling biases and prejudices.

For instance, in cases involving violent incidents, headlines using passive constructions such as "Violence Erupts in Community After Protest" often lack specificity about actors involved. Such phrasing removes agency, implying incidents occur independently of human involvement and fostering ambiguity. Readers might subconsciously associate the event with certain groups, influenced solely by indirect language cues.

Passive voice also plays a role in encouraging selective empathy. When reporting crimes committed by minority groups, phrases like "A store was robbed" can emphasize the action while bypassing systemic factors or underlying motives. Conversely, similar incidents involving privileged groups may be narrated differently with active constructs, promoting an impression of individuality and isolated circumstances rather than characterizing systemic issues.

Public opinion does not develop in isolation; it is deeply intertwined with the narratives disseminated by media platforms and their linguistic choices. Distribution of passive constructions often perpetuates victim-blaming cycles, subtly directing responsibility toward individuals rather than critiquing institutional failings or societal contributors. This manipulation of framing reinforces pre-existing assumptions and racial, economic, or social biases.

By examining how passive voice skews narratives, one can better understand its hidden implications for society. Such analysis reveals that linguistic choices are far from neutral; they carry the power to influence accountability, judge moral responsibility, and direct public opinion in significant ways.

Passive Voice in the Courtroom: Legal Implications

The language employed in the courtroom often holds significant weight in shaping the perception of guilt or innocence. The use of passive voice in legal settings can obscure accountability and create ambiguity. For instance, phrasing such as "force was used against the victim" eliminates the identity of the perpetrator, effectively distancing the individual responsible from their actions. This linguistic shift can subtly influence the jury's or judge's understanding of events, introducing doubt or reducing the emotional weight of the evidence.

In legal documentation, the passive voice may unintentionally soften the portrayal of criminal behavior. Statements like "the funds were embezzled" fail to directly attribute responsibility, which can affect how culpability is assigned or perceived. The passive structure often diminishes the focus on the subject, potentially leading to less scrutiny of their intent, motive, or actions. This linguistic choice is particularly significant in cases where evidence is open to interpretation.

Attorneys sometimes exploit passive constructions as a rhetorical device to influence legal outcomes. Prosecutors may phrase charges in the active voice to emphasize intent, such as "the defendant deliberately stole the property." Conversely, defense attorneys may deploy passive voice to deflect blame or reduce apparent accountability, for example, "the property was lost under unclear circumstances." These strategic uses of language can sway the interpretation of events by subtly framing the narrative.

Judicial instructions and legal precedents may also reflect the impact of passive voice. Precise language is crucial in laws and verdicts, as ambiguities introduced by indirect phrasing can lead to challenges or appeals. Thus, the choice between active and passive voice carries both rhetorical and procedural significance in legal contexts, influencing how justice is perceived and administered.

How Law Enforcement Narratives Use Passive Voice Strategically

Law enforcement agencies often rely on passive voice in their official narratives, a practice that significantly shapes public perception. In this context, the use of passive constructions directs attention away from specific actors or individuals, emphasizing actions or outcomes instead. This linguistic strategy prioritizes objectivity or neutrality, aiming to maintain professionalism in reports.

Passive voice frequently appears in police reports describing incidents, as demonstrated by phrases like "the suspect was apprehended" or "shots were fired." Such phrasing focuses on events while minimizing direct reference to who executed them. By avoiding an explicit assignment of responsibility, these narratives prevent premature judgments, particularly before investigations are complete. However, this framing can subtly create ambiguity regarding the culpability of certain individuals or groups, leaving the interpretation open to bias.

Strategic use of passive voice also enables law enforcement to frame complex or controversial events in ways that mitigate public scrutiny. For instance, in cases involving excessive use of force, expressions like "force was used" de-emphasize an officer's individual role, shifting focus to systemic procedures rather than personal decisions. This reframing can create a distance between specific actions and the individuals behind them.

Moreover, passive language often conveys authority and detachment, aligning with the impersonal tone expected of institutional communication. While maintaining professionalism, this detachment may inadvertently foster narratives that obscure power dynamics, potentially leaving marginalized communities disproportionately implicated. Conversely, similar linguistic strategies may shield law enforcement personnel from direct critique when actions fall under public scrutiny.

An analysis of such usage highlights the dual function of passive constructions in law enforcement storytelling: as both a tool for formal communication and as a mechanism for narrative control. Strategic framing through language profoundly impacts public trust and justice perceptions.

The Role of Passive Voice in Historical and Social Contexts

Passive voice has played a pivotal role in shaping narratives within historical and social frameworks. In many cases, it has been a linguistic tool for subtly shifting focus away from the agents of actions and redirecting attention to events, consequences, or victims. This stylistic choice often influences the way individuals perceive societal issues and even historical accountability.

For example, in historical accounts, passive constructions such as "mistakes were made" or "laws were enacted" can occlude the identities of responsible parties. Such phrasing may reduce the direct association of actions with individuals or groups, effectively softening the impact of wrongdoing. Governments, organizations, and media outlets sometimes adopt passive voice to present controversial events in a less accusatory tone, which, in turn, may diminish public scrutiny or outrage.

Socially, the use of passive voice perpetuates systemic inequalities within frameworks like institutional racism or gender bias. When sentences are framed as “violence was inflicted” instead of identifying specific perpetrators, the societal imbalance enabling such acts remains unaddressed. The absence of clear agents can negatively impact public recognition of systemic or deliberate harm, allowing the continuation of cycles of injustice. Similarly, phrases like "rights were stripped" can fail to hold authorities accountable for infringements on freedoms.

Passively constructed narratives also shape collective memory, often enabling institutions or groups to obfuscate culpability or responsibility. Textbooks, memorials, and documentation frequently use passive voice to sanitize or downplay tragic historical events, inadvertently influencing how cultures and nations reflect on their past. The nuance of language in such accounts determines whether responsibility is acknowledged or displaced.

These trends illustrate that passive voice carries the capacity to subtly redirect accountability, reinforce societal power dynamics, and reformulate collective perception of historical occurrences. Its use transcends grammar to become a potent tool in the construction of historical truth and social narratives.

To further grasp how passive voice becomes a shield for wrongdoing, it is useful to examine specific case studies from recent history. One particularly relevant example involves the language used in official government communications surrounding the 2008 financial crisis. Reports from banks, regulators, and policymakers were riddled with phrases such as “lending standards were relaxed,” “oversight was insufficient,” and “the economy was destabilized.” These statements, while technically accurate, avoid naming those responsible for the collapse—namely, financial executives, regulatory bodies, and legislators who failed to enforce or even dismantled crucial safeguards.

The use of passive voice in these reports helped reframe the financial crisis as a series of unfortunate, faceless events, rather than as a chain of decisions made by identifiable individuals and institutions. As a result, very few people were held accountable, despite the massive economic devastation that followed. The linguistic fog created by passive constructions was not incidental—it was instrumental. It allowed both the public and the media to move on more quickly, without the clarity or reckoning necessary to prevent a recurrence.

Another pertinent case is the scandal involving the Catholic Church and widespread child sexual abuse. For years, church statements and media reports leaned heavily on passive constructions like “abuse occurred,” “mistakes were made,” or “trust was broken.” These phrases avoided naming individual priests or high-ranking officials who enabled the abuse through cover-ups and systemic silence. The deliberate use of passive voice allowed the Church to control the narrative, delay accountability, and preserve its institutional authority. Only after investigative journalists began identifying specific actors and using active voice in their reporting did the public outrage and judicial consequences begin to take form.

The language of institutional abuse—whether in religious, financial, educational, or political contexts—follows a strikingly similar pattern. Passive voice operates as a kind of bureaucratic anesthetic, dulling the pain of injustice and shielding those in power from scrutiny. For survivors and victims, this can be retraumatizing. Being told that “mistakes were made” rather than “Father X abused multiple children” invalidates their experience and diminishes the gravity of the harm they endured. It erases not just the perpetrator, but also the truth.

Legal proceedings also reveal the damaging effects of passive voice. In jury instructions, witness testimonies, and judicial summaries, the difference between active and passive constructions can subtly bias the outcome of a case. For instance, when a defense attorney argues that “shots were fired” rather than “my client fired the shots,” the jury is subtly invited to see the event as abstract or accidental. The passive voice introduces ambiguity where there should be certainty. In criminal trials where facts matter immensely, the passive construction becomes not just stylistically misleading but ethically dangerous.

This linguistic manipulation is particularly potent when paired with other forms of bias, such as race or socioeconomic status. A Black defendant accused of a crime might find their actions described in vivid, active terms—“he attacked,” “he ran,” “he stabbed”—while a white perpetrator of similar or worse offenses might be reported on using the passive voice—“a woman was killed,” “a disturbance occurred,” “a confrontation ensued.” These discrepancies contribute to public narratives that criminalize certain populations while exonerating others. They influence not just juries, but also judges, media outlets, and public opinion at large.

It is in this context that we see passive voice not as an isolated linguistic quirk but as a symptom of structural inequality. Language reflects the power dynamics of society. Those with institutional control—governments, corporations, media conglomerates—also control the dominant narratives. And when these institutions use passive voice strategically, they effectively write themselves out of the story. It is a form of erasure that distorts truth and perpetuates injustice. In contrast, active voice names names, assigns responsibility, and demands accountability.

Political leaders have long relied on passive constructions to escape direct criticism. The phrase “mistakes were made” has been famously used by figures from Richard Nixon to Ronald Reagan to George W. Bush. This phrase epitomizes the passive-voice dodge: an acknowledgment that something went wrong without implicating anyone in particular. It signals remorse without requiring action. For the public, it offers no clarity; for the speaker, it offers plausible deniability. Such language is not just evasive—it is manipulative. It uses grammar as a political tool to defuse controversy and control the damage.

This pattern of communication has deeply influenced how modern political scandals are handled. In the aftermath of data breaches, corruption allegations, or foreign policy failures, official statements often read like exercises in linguistic gymnastics: “Information was compromised,” “Oversight was lacking,” “Diplomatic tensions were inflamed.” These phrases bury the lede by hiding the actors behind the actions. And as long as the public allows this kind of language to go unchallenged, it will continue to be used as a smokescreen.

In contrast, some leaders have chosen a different path by embracing linguistic transparency. After the 2019 Christchurch mosque shootings in New Zealand, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern explicitly named the attacker, described his actions in clear terms, and committed to concrete legislative changes. Her use of active voice not only conveyed clarity but also reinforced moral leadership. It showed that language, when used responsibly, can help heal a nation rather than obscure its wounds. It was a masterclass in narrative responsibility.

This example demonstrates that clarity and compassion are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they often go hand in hand. Passive voice, under the guise of objectivity or diplomacy, often fails to offer either. It undermines the emotional and ethical integrity of communication. When we avoid naming wrongdoers, we fail to validate the experiences of those who have suffered. When we blur cause and effect, we fail to build trust. And when we obscure facts, we fail to prepare for the future.

In journalism, this issue has become increasingly visible. Several major publications have updated their editorial guidelines to reduce the use of passive voice in crime reporting, particularly when describing violence against marginalized communities. These changes were sparked by critiques from readers, activists, and linguists who recognized the role language plays in perpetuating bias. Headlines that once read “Unarmed Black Man Shot by Police” now more frequently read “Police Officer Shoots Unarmed Black Man.” This shift may seem small, but its implications are profound. It changes the focus of the story, challenges the reader’s assumptions, and aligns the narrative with accountability.

Similarly, media coverage of sexual harassment and abuse has evolved to include more active voice. The #MeToo movement played a significant role in this transformation. Survivors and advocates demanded clarity and specificity in how their stories were told. They pushed back against headlines that read “Allegations Surface Against Film Producer” in favor of ones that clearly stated “Harvey Weinstein Accused of Sexual Assault by Multiple Women.” This insistence on active voice reframed the conversation around sexual violence and helped dismantle decades of institutional silence.

Beyond media, the use of active voice has become a key element of restorative practices in education and community justice. In these settings, individuals are encouraged to own their actions by saying things like “I took your phone without asking” rather than “Your phone was taken.” This language facilitates direct accountability and emotional honesty. It creates space for genuine apology, mutual understanding, and healing. Passive voice, by contrast, introduces distance and ambiguity—two things that hinder reconciliation.

In corporate training and organizational communication, similar strategies are being implemented. Diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) workshops now emphasize the importance of language in fostering inclusive environments. Employees are taught to take responsibility for their actions and their words, both in written and spoken communication. Statements like “Your feelings were hurt” are being replaced by “I said something that hurt your feelings.” This shift from passive to active voice reinforces personal accountability and promotes healthier, more respectful workplace dynamics.

As we consider all these domains—education, media, politics, law, corporate culture—it becomes increasingly clear that the misuse of passive voice is not just a stylistic issue. It is a social issue. It is a justice issue. It is a truth issue. Passive voice allows individuals and institutions to dodge responsibility, deflect blame, and maintain the status quo. Active voice, on the other hand, disrupts that comfort. It calls things by their names. It points fingers when fingers need to be pointed. And most importantly, it opens the door to change.

Case Studies: Analyzing Real-World Examples of Linguistic Framing

The study of linguistic framing provides insights into how subtle shifts in language impact perception, particularly when analyzing the use of passive voice in high-stakes contexts such as media reporting, legal documentation, and public discourse. Several real-world examples illustrate the profound effects of these choices on shaping narratives.

Media Reporting on Criminal Incidents

News outlets often employ passive voice when describing criminal activity, especially when the subject of the accusation holds societal power or privilege. For instance, headlines such as "Mistakes Were Made During the Incident" obscure the subject responsible for the action and diffuse accountability. Comparatively, active-voice alternatives like "Police Fired Tear Gas at Protesters" assign clear responsibility. This framing affects public understanding of power dynamics and culpability, particularly in events involving systemic abuse. The passive construction may unintentionally or deliberately avert attention from the perpetrator while intensifying focus on the victim or the actions' outcomes.

Legal and Judicial Documents

Legal case files and courtroom arguments frequently display passive voice when outlining events involving accused individuals. Statements such as "The items were stolen from the residence" underscore the occurrence rather than identifying the agent. In contrast, an active-voice rewrite—such as "The defendant stole items from the residence"—centers action and agency on the accused. Passive phrasing can affect jury perceptions and dilute clarity in assigning blame. This has raised concerns about how language influences case outcomes where moral and legal responsibility hinges on public interpretation of the facts.

Disasters and Corporate Accountability

In corporate narratives following environmental disasters, passive voice has been a prominent tool. Press releases may frame incidents with statements like "Oil Was Spilled into the Ocean," sidelining the corporation’s role and crafting an impersonal narrative. This technique reduces associations between the entity responsible and the harm caused. Public backlash often prompts linguistic shifts, as activists and advocates fight to replace vague descriptions with direct attributions like "The corporation spilled oil into the ocean," thereby reshaping how accountability is demanded.

Through detailed analysis of such examples, researchers and advocates are bringing awareness to the implications of narrative construction, urging transparent and intentional use of language for justice and clarity.

As we’ve explored across cultural, institutional, professional, and technological landscapes, passive voice is not just a grammatical construct—it is a mechanism that reshapes narratives, distorts reality, and too often protects the powerful at the expense of the truth. It allows individuals and institutions to rewrite the story of an event without rewriting the facts. In doing so, it mutates perception and undermines justice. But recognizing the problem is the first step toward reform.

A society that relies heavily on passive voice breeds detachment and disempowerment. Events “happen.” Mistakes are “made.” People are “hurt.” But without naming the actors, without identifying who took the action or made the decision, we risk living in a culture of invisibility—a world where no one is responsible, and no one is accountable. And in that world, injustice flourishes.

But language, like society, is not static. It can evolve. And through education, activism, and institutional reform, we can encourage a cultural shift toward clarity, truth, and responsibility in communication.

1. Educational Reforms: Teaching Critical Literacy from an Early AgeOne of the most important changes must begin in classrooms. Teaching grammar should go beyond mechanics—it must include ethical awareness. Students need to learn the difference between “The window was broken” and “Tom broke the window.” They should be encouraged to question who is acting and why that information might be hidden. Educators must teach that passive voice has power, and that clarity is not just academic—it’s moral.

Courses in journalism, legal studies, political science, and media literacy should include modules on how passive voice has been used historically to excuse harm and erase accountability. Students must learn how to spot manipulation in public narratives and understand the long-term societal implications of linguistic framing.

2. Journalism Guidelines: Language as an Instrument of AccountabilityMedia organizations hold immense power in shaping public understanding. Editorial teams should revise style guides to prioritize active voice in reporting events involving violence, injustice, or institutional harm. Newsrooms must resist the urge to sanitize headlines for “neutrality” when that neutrality distorts agency. Instead of writing, “Protester dies after clash,” reporters should write, “Police officer strikes protester, resulting in death.”

Media watchdogs and readers alike should hold outlets accountable for their language choices. A single word—“was shot” versus “was shot by”—can completely alter how an audience perceives responsibility. Ethical journalism must be rooted not just in facts, but in linguistic transparency.

3. Institutional Responsibility: From Bureaucratic Evasion to Ethical CommunicationCorporations, government agencies, and nonprofits must reexamine how they write statements, especially in moments of crisis. Passive voice might seem safer in legal terms, but it is dangerous in ethical ones. Statements like “data was compromised” or “policies were violated” avoid naming the individuals or decisions that led to harm. Clarity should be prioritized over legalese—especially when public trust is at stake.

Internal policies should be updated to reflect this shift. Teams responsible for public relations, human resources, and executive communication should be trained to write with directness and accountability. This will not only improve public relations but also build credibility and foster trust.

4. AI Development: Programming Accountability into TechnologyAs artificial intelligence continues to influence communication across industries, developers and engineers must program language models that favor active voice where appropriate. AI-generated content should be transparent, ethical, and free from the vague, evasive constructions that have historically shielded injustice.

AI tools can also be designed to assist in passive voice detection and suggest active alternatives, particularly in sensitive contexts such as criminal reporting, corporate communications, and public health updates. By embedding linguistic accountability into AI systems, we can prevent algorithmic reinforcement of harmful patterns.

5. Personal Empowerment: Everyday Language as a Tool for JusticeOn an individual level, we all have the ability to shift the culture. In daily conversations, social media posts, workplace emails, and community advocacy, choosing the active voice is an act of clarity and courage. Instead of saying, “Things got out of hand,” we can say, “I didn’t manage the situation well.” This is not just about grammar—it’s about honesty.

In relationships, confronting harm requires naming it: “You hurt me,” not “I was hurt.” This applies to friends, family, coworkers, and partners. Active language creates a direct path to understanding, healing, and growth.

And in activism, advocacy, and storytelling, the rule is the same: name the action, name the actor, and be unafraid of clarity.

6. Narrative Justice: Honoring Truth in StorytellingUltimately, this movement is about more than grammar—it’s about truth-telling. It’s about narrative justice. Victims of violence, corruption, racism, and abuse have the right to have their stories told with full agency and transparency. The people who caused harm must be named. The systems that failed must be exposed.

Storytelling is one of the oldest human traditions—and one of the most powerful. When we tell stories that hide actors, we tell incomplete truths. When we use language that blurs accountability, we do a disservice to justice. But when we use our words to name reality, to honor victims, and to demand change, we reclaim the full power of language.

The Way Forward: A Culture of ClarityThe movement to reexamine the use of passive voice is not about outlawing a grammatical form—it’s about creating a more responsible, transparent, and ethical way of communicating. It’s about recognizing that even the smallest choices in sentence structure can have massive effects on justice, empathy, and truth.

We must begin with awareness: noticing passive voice when it appears, questioning why it’s there, and considering who benefits from its use.

We must continue with intention: choosing active voice where it matters most, naming names when accountability is due, and refusing to let harm go undocumented.

And we must end with action: reforming institutions, retraining professionals, redesigning software, and reeducating ourselves to use language as a force for clarity—not concealment.

Only then can we dismantle the linguistic habits that have long protected the powerful and betrayed the vulnerable.

Only then can we stop letting grammar turn people into criminals.

From the Shadows: The Moral Ambiguity of Passive Construction

Passive construction often resides in the linguistic gray area where intent and interpretation blur. By shifting focus from the subject performing the action to the object receiving it, the passive voice subtly shapes perceptions of accountability. For instance, a sentence like “Mistakes were made” obscures the actor’s identity, fostering ambiguity regarding responsibility. In contexts like legal discourse or media reporting, such constructions can serve as tools to minimize blame or soften the attribution of culpability.

The passive voice often manipulates moral undertones when used in emotionally charged narratives. Its application in statements such as, “Harsh decisions were implemented,” creates distance between the decision-makers and the outcomes. This detachment redirects emotional engagement, making the act appear impersonal or inevitable rather than a product of deliberate human agency. This linguistic distancing raises critical ethical questions about the role of language in shaping public opinion and mitigating accountability.

Passive construction’s moral ambiguity becomes especially evident when analyzing events where power dynamics play a role. For example, in cases involving institutional actions or systemic injustices, framing events passively—“Rights were violated” or “Errors were committed”—can obscure the responsible party’s identity. Such language choices can diminish the perceived agency of those in power, shifting focus away from systems or individuals and toward abstract outcomes.

Critics of passive usage emphasize its potential to dilute truth and evade precise accountability. However, defenders argue that passive voice is not inherently unethical; its moral implications stem from context and intent. Used judiciously, it can emphasize outcomes over actors, which might be beneficial in academic or scientific discourse. Nevertheless, the shadow it casts over moral clarity is undeniable when deployed to obscure the line between action and accountability.

The Ripple Effect: Passive Voice in Policy and Governance

Passive voice frequently permeates policy documents, legal statutes, and governmental frameworks, steering public perception in subtle yet consequential ways. When passive constructions are employed within governance, responsibility and accountability often shift into obscurity, creating ambiguity about those executing or enforcing policies. This linguistic choice can inadvertently distort the public’s understanding of actions taken by officials, agencies, or administrations.

For instance, phrases such as “mistakes were made” or “policies were implemented” deflect attention from agents performing these actions. By embedding passive language in legal or policy documents, accountability may erode. Citizens may find it harder to discern who is liable or responsible for policy failures, thus weakening democratic mechanisms that depend on transparency and trust.

Passive voice in legislation can also diminish clarity. For example, instead of stating “Officials delayed the disaster relief funds,” passive phrasing like “The disaster relief funds were delayed” removes the actor who caused the delay. This linguistic ambiguity results in unclear attribution, which can stymy efforts to improve governance or rectify administrative errors.

Furthermore, passive constructions in policy can create narratives that perpetuate power imbalances. By focusing on actions rather than actors, structural inequities may be subtly masked. Policies phrased in passive voice tend to soften public outcry or criticism, as their construction avoids assigning explicit blame or praise.

The strategic use of passive voice influences public discourse, blurring lines between action and accountability. Understanding this ripple effect is essential in fostering transparency and ensuring governance systems serve their constituents responsibly.

How Passive Voice Contributes to Stereotypes and Prejudices

Passive voice can inadvertently perpetuate stereotypes and prejudices by shading accountability and framing events in ways that obscure the active agent or cause. By focusing on the recipient of an action rather than the actor, it may reinforce biases in narratives about social groups, individuals, or communities. This linguistic mechanism, often subtle, can play a substantial role in shaping public perceptions, particularly in media coverage, legal contexts, and cultural storytelling.

For instance, sentences framed in the passive voice such as "mistakes were made" or "the community was impacted" remove explicit agents from the conversation, deflecting responsibility and scrutiny from those who caused harm. This linguistic structure can disproportionately affect marginalized groups, where narratives tend to focus on their victimization while concealing systemic forces or individuals responsible for their suffering. It creates an implicit bias, subtly embedding and perpetuating stereotypes.

Furthermore, when describing crimes or conflicts, passive constructions like "property was damaged last night" leave the perpetrator undefined, often drawing attention solely to the affected party. This approach can lead to framing certain groups, particularly vulnerable populations, as inherently linked to negative outcomes, perpetuating patterns of prejudice. In contrast, focusing on active voice—e.g., "vandals damaged the property"—assigns agency and provides clarity to the narrative, reducing the likelihood of stereotyping.

In educational texts and legal documents, the passive voice can foster indirect prejudice by shaping perceptions. Passive structures in historical recounting, for example, often erase the active subject, such as "land was taken," thereby neglecting to attribute responsibility to the dominant groups involved. Consequently, such phrasing may reinforce systemic inequities and solidify preconceived notions about who holds power and who becomes a target.

Through this persistent omission of agency, passive voice not only diminishes personal or institutional responsibility but also sustains harmful narratives that feed into societal stereotypes. Transitioning toward active voice in discourse is an essential step to dismantle linguistic patterns fueling prejudice.

Breaking Down the Mechanisms: Why Passive Voice is So Entrenched

The widespread use of passive voice arises from both linguistic and psychological tendencies. Structurally, passive voice allows sentences to shift focus from the actor (subject) to the action or recipient of the action. This flexibility in sentence construction is particularly useful in contexts where the agent is unknown, irrelevant, or intentionally omitted. For example, in legal or bureaucratic documents, passive phrasing often serves to obscure responsibility, as it leaves the "who" open to interpretation.

From a psychological perspective, passive voice minimizes perceived accountability. Humans have a natural inclination to soften their culpability in undesirable outcomes. Recasting a situation such as “Mistakes were made” rather than “I made mistakes” diffuses blame and strips actions of direct ownership. This distancing mechanism makes passive constructions comfortable and pervasive, particularly in sensitive contexts requiring face-saving measures.

Historical and institutional practices have also contributed to the entrenched use of passive voice. In academia and scientific writing, passive voice has long been preferred for its emphasis on processes and results rather than individual contributors. Phrases like “Data were analyzed” are standard in such domains, reinforcing norms where impersonal and objective tones are prized over active clarity.

Language acquisition processes also support the persistence of passive voice. Learners encounter passive constructions frequently in reading material and are systematically reinforced to adopt them for formal writing. The translation of such habits into everyday communication further embeds these patterns in common usage. Additionally, passive voice thrives in environments where social hierarchies necessitate vagueness or diplomacy, enabling speakers to avoid direct confrontation or naming entities outright.

Combatting the Issue: Encouraging Accountability Through Active Voice

The use of active voice can play a critical role in fostering accountability within both public and private spheres. When messages are conveyed actively, the subjects are clearly identifiable, which helps assign responsibility effectively. For example, instead of saying, "Mistakes were made," a statement like, "The team acknowledged their mistakes," offers clarity on the agent of action, leaving no ambiguity about who was responsible.

Active voice reinforces transparency by reducing opportunities for intentional vagueness. It is especially important in institutions like law enforcement, education, and the media, where precision can help combat narratives that unjustly shift blame or obscure facts. For instance, reports that state, "An officer fired the weapon," convey responsibility more effectively than the passive alternative, "The weapon was fired." The choice of voice significantly influences how accountability is perceived in public discourse.

To institutionalize the use of active voice, organizations can adopt several strategies:

• Training on language use: Workplace seminars can focus on the implications of passive versus active voice in emails, reports, and public statements.

• Implementing style guides: Organizations can enforce manuals that prioritize active sentence structure.

• Role modeling by leadership: Management should lead by example, consistently using active voice in communication, thus normalizing its use.

Furthermore, education systems can introduce curricula that emphasize the impact of language in shaping responsibility. This approach fosters awareness from an early age and equips individuals to recognize and challenge passive constructions.

Enhanced communication practices that favor active voice empower individuals and groups to assume responsibility for their actions. This small yet impactful shift in language use can ultimately contribute to a culture of clarity, accountability, and ethical decision-making.

The Responsibility of Writers and Journalists in Language Framing

Writers and journalists hold a significant influence over public discourse through the way they construct narratives and frame information. The language choices they make, particularly the use of passive or active voice, directly impact how events, responsibilities, and actions are perceived by audiences. This responsibility necessitates a deliberate effort to avoid bias and distortion in the portrayal of individuals, groups, or incidents.

Active voice in reporting tends to assign clear accountability, making the agent of an action evident. For example, saying “The company dumped toxic waste into the river” explicitly implicates the company, whereas a passive construction such as “Toxic waste was dumped into the river” obscures the responsible party. This subtle difference can shape public opinion by either holding actors accountable or unintentionally shielding them.

When discussing sensitive topics such as crime or misconduct, passive voice can inadvertently shift perceived blame onto victims rather than perpetrators. Phrasing such as “The victim was assaulted” passively centers the victim, while “The attacker assaulted the victim” highlights the assailant’s responsibility. Writers must remain mindful of how these choices influence social attitudes toward justice and equity.

Journalistic integrity relies on the precision and transparency of reporting. Writers are expected to prioritize clarity, ensuring that their work provides factual narratives rather than enabling ambiguity. Furthermore, ethical considerations require that language framing should not perpetuate harmful stereotypes or reinforce societal inequities.

To ensure accountability, journalists can adopt best practices such as scrutinizing sentence structure, prioritizing active voice wherever feasible, and revising drafts with a focus on responsibility attribution. By doing so, they contribute to a more informed and conscientious public discourse while upholding the principles of their profession.

The influence of passive voice is not confined to Western cultures or English-speaking nations. It manifests in diverse ways across the globe, shaped by linguistic structures, cultural norms, and political systems. Yet, the core issue remains universal: when language distances agency from action, it also distances accountability from responsibility.

In many East Asian languages, such as Japanese or Korean, passive voice or agentless constructions are more naturally embedded into everyday communication. Cultural emphasis on harmony, deference, and group cohesion often leads to indirect expression. In Japan, for example, a mistake at work might be described as “It happened that a document was not submitted,” instead of “Mr. Sato failed to submit the document.” While this linguistic nuance fosters social cohesion, it can complicate accountability in professional or governmental settings.

Similarly, in Arabic or Persian media, especially under authoritarian regimes, state violence or human rights abuses are frequently reported with language that omits perpetrators. Phrases like “protesters were dispersed” or “violence erupted during the demonstration” are common. The vagueness serves a dual function: it protects the government from criticism and controls the public narrative. It’s a strategic omission, one that weakens citizen outrage and muffles international scrutiny.

European languages like French and German also have their own complexities with passive voice. In French, the reflexive construction (e.g., “Il s’est passé quelque chose” – “Something happened”) is often used in place of naming agents. In German, passive voice is common in bureaucratic and academic contexts, creating a layer of formality that can be difficult to penetrate. In all cases, these constructions reflect societal attitudes toward authority, responsibility, and truth.

Global journalism has increasingly come under pressure to address these patterns. News agencies with international audiences, such as the BBC, Al Jazeera, or Reuters, have begun training journalists to adopt a more active voice in conflict reporting. This change stems from growing criticism that vague language contributes to a culture of impunity. When airstrikes “occur” rather than being “launched by a specific military,” or when refugees “flee violence” without clarity about who caused the violence, public understanding suffers. More importantly, it allows aggressors—whether governments, paramilitary groups, or corporations—to avoid scrutiny.

Artificial intelligence and automated content generation present a new challenge in the fight against passive voice misuse. AI language models trained on vast datasets often replicate existing linguistic patterns, including the overuse of passive constructions. This can be particularly problematic when AI-generated summaries, news blurbs, or even legal documents adopt vague language that obscures responsibility.

For example, if an AI system generates a line like “The suspect was apprehended during an altercation,” without clarifying by whom or under what conditions, it perpetuates the very problem we are trying to solve. And because many users now rely on AI tools to draft content in professional and journalistic settings, the potential for widespread passive-voice obfuscation is high. If unchecked, we risk embedding structural linguistic bias into the very systems we trust for clarity and efficiency.

Developers and linguists working in AI ethics are beginning to confront this issue. Natural Language Processing (NLP) tools are being updated to flag passive constructions and suggest active alternatives when appropriate. Some platforms now offer “tone rewriting” tools that prioritize clarity and agency. However, these features must be refined and integrated responsibly, with a deep understanding of context. The solution is not to eliminate passive voice altogether, but to recognize when and why it is being used—and whether that use contributes to transparency or concealment.

The use of passive voice in algorithmically generated social media posts, auto-moderation tools, and AI-generated legal summaries has broader implications for justice and public discourse. For instance, platforms like Facebook or YouTube often issue moderation notices such as “Your post was removed for violating community guidelines.” This phrasing omits the human or algorithmic actor behind the decision, leaving users in the dark. Who decided the post was inappropriate? Was it a person or an automated filter? This lack of transparency can lead to confusion, frustration, and a sense of powerlessness among users.

In a broader societal sense, AI-powered governance—through automated legal advice, predictive policing, or algorithmic sentencing—raises urgent questions about linguistic framing. If a software-generated legal brief says, “evidence was excluded,” does it explain who excluded it and why? If an algorithm suggests, “an error occurred in data entry,” does that conceal the flaws of the software or the actions of a human operator? As AI continues to mediate decision-making in public and private sectors, clarity in language becomes not just a technical issue, but an ethical one.

Moreover, passive voice has a potent psychological impact when consumed repetitively over time. Language shapes thought, and habitual exposure to impersonal, agentless narratives alters how people perceive justice, guilt, and agency. A society that reads “protesters were injured” instead of “police injured protesters” begins to internalize the notion that events happen without causes, or that harm is a natural byproduct of chaos rather than the consequence of human decisions.

This is particularly dangerous in polarized political climates. In authoritarian regimes, passive voice becomes an instrument of control. State media rarely say, “The military opened fire on civilians.” Instead, they write, “A number of injuries were reported during the protest.” The agency disappears, the victims become abstract statistics, and the public becomes more docile. Without clear identification of perpetrators, there can be no justice—and no demand for justice.

At the same time, many individuals have internalized passive constructions in their personal language, often as a way to cope with shame, guilt, or fear. Victims of trauma might say, “Mistakes were made,” or “It happened to me,” rather than naming their abuser. While this can be a valid part of the healing process, over time it can also reinforce silence and delay accountability. Therapists and trauma counselors often encourage clients to reclaim active voice, to say, “He hit me,” or “She manipulated me.” Naming the agent is a key part of regaining agency.

This concept translates into societal healing as well. Truth and reconciliation commissions, such as those in South Africa or Rwanda, emphasize narrative honesty as a foundation for peace. Victims are given platforms to speak in active voice: to say who did what, how, and why. These stories are not just cathartic; they are essential for institutional reform. When governments and citizens hear active voice accounts of genocide, apartheid, or mass incarceration, they are forced to confront the truth, not abstract it.

In some communities, particularly those working on racial justice, this linguistic framing has become central to activism. Movements like Black Lives Matter insist on naming both victims and perpetrators, on demanding that news outlets use language that reflects real agency. Saying “George Floyd died during police restraint” is not enough—it must be said that “Derek Chauvin knelt on George Floyd’s neck for 9 minutes and 29 seconds.” This specificity is not graphic sensationalism; it’s the foundation of truth-telling and reform.

Narrative activism goes beyond protests. It influences how nonprofits draft policy proposals, how lawyers write amicus briefs, and how educators frame history lessons. Passive voice, when used thoughtlessly, undermines all of this work. But when challenged, when exposed, and when replaced with intentional, active language, it can be dismantled. A passive voice does not just mask agency—it enables injustice. An active voice, conversely, calls it out.

The future of ethical communication depends on a fundamental shift in how we understand and use language. It is not enough to improve vocabulary or grammar. We must examine the moral consequences of sentence structure. Writers, journalists, educators, AI developers, and public officials must recognize that the passive voice is not just a stylistic decision—it is a political one.

As new generations of content creators, civic leaders, and developers take the reins, they carry a profound responsibility. The words they choose will shape not only stories but outcomes. If we want a future where justice is transparent, where power is accountable, and where victims are not silenced, we must begin with how we speak and write.

And that begins by simply asking: who did what? And why aren’t we naming them?

Conclusion: Awareness, Advocacy, and the Path to Change

The examination of how passive voice is employed exposes a critical need for greater awareness and intentionality in the language used within legal, media, and institutional narratives. Passive constructions often deflect accountability, obscuring the role of perpetrators and subtly shifting blame toward victims or communities. Through the power of language, institutions can reinforce harmful stereotypes or perpetuate systemic inequities. To challenge these consequences, individuals and organizations must recognize the weight of linguistic choices and their broader societal impact.

Engaging in advocacy remains a pivotal step in addressing this linguistic bias. Advocacy begins with education—ensuring that journalists, legal professionals, policymakers, and educators are trained to identify and rectify passive constructions in their work. Beyond awareness, institutional guidelines should be encouraged, fostering language that holds parties accountable and minimizes the perpetuation of harmful narratives. Advocacy should also include public campaigns to educate communities about the influence of passive voice, empowering audiences to question phrasing and demand transparency in both dialogue and documentation.

On the path to change, collaborative efforts are indispensable. Media outlets, academic institutions, and advocacy groups must work collectively to redefine communication standards and promote honest, active structuring of events. This process also requires monitoring and revising existing practices through consistent evaluation, aiming to build a culture of accountability. Change is not instantaneous but incremental, requiring sustained effort across multiple platforms and societal levels.

By prioritizing actions that combine awareness, advocacy, and structural revisions, stakeholders can mitigate the damaging effects of linguistic manipulation and foster systems that reflect equity, justice, and clarity.

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1. How does the use of passive voice benefit institutions like police departments or corporations?

2. Why might legal teams prefer passive constructions in public statements or press releases?

3. What are some specific consequences of using passive voice in official government communication?

4. Can language be considered a form of power? If so, how does passive voice shift that power?

5. What is lost when we remove the agent (the person or group responsible) from a sentence?

6. How does passive voice impact the public’s ability to demand accountability from institutions?

7. Why might institutions intentionally use vague language instead of identifying individuals or departments?

8. Should the media adopt stricter rules against passive constructions when reporting on crime or injustice? Why or why not?

9. How does the use of passive voice in crime reporting contribute to racial or gender bias?

10. Why are marginalized communities more likely to be portrayed with active voice in negative contexts?

11. What are the dangers of consistently describing violence against women in passive terms?

12. In what ways can passive voice perpetuate systemic injustice without the public realizing it?

13. Why do you think passive voice is often taught as a more “professional” or “intelligent” way of writing?

14. Should students be taught to avoid passive voice in ethical or justice-related writing? Why or why not?

15. What is the risk of valuing grammatical detachment over clarity and responsibility?

16. How might the use of passive voice in healthcare reporting affect patient safety and trust?

17. In corporate communications, how does passive voice affect customer satisfaction or transparency?

18. What role does passive voice play in reducing the impact of medical or political scandals?

19. How can technology tools like Grammarly or AI writing assistants help address the overuse of passive voice?

20. What responsibility do journalists, educators, and writers have in promoting the ethical use of language?

    
    

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English	Russian	German	Turkish	Example (English)
accountability	ответственность	Verantwortlichkeit	sorumluluk	Public accountability is essential in a democracy.
ambiguity	неоднозначность	Mehrdeutigkeit	belirsizlik	The statement was full of ambiguity.
institution	учреждение	Institution	kurum	The institution released a formal statement.
obfuscation	затемнение	Verschleierung	gizleme	The report was criticized for obfuscation.
liability	ответственность	Haftung	yükümlülük	The company admitted no liability.
detachment	отстраненность	Distanziertheit	uzaklık	His detachment from the issue was surprising.
perpetrator	преступник	Täter	fail	The police arrested the perpetrator.
survivor	выживший	Überlebender	hayatta kalan	She is a survivor of the incident.
justice	справедливость	Gerechtigkeit	adalet	They fought for justice.
narrative	повествование	Erzählung	anlatı	The narrative was shaped by the media.
integrity	целостность	Integrität	bütünlük	She acted with integrity.
transparency	прозрачность	Transparenz	şeffaflık	Transparency is vital in governance.
bias	предвзятость	Voreingenommenheit	önyargı	The article showed clear bias.
framing	рамки	Einrahmung	çerçeveleme	Framing influences public opinion.
agency	способность действовать	Handlungsfähigkeit	eylem gücü	Victims must reclaim their agency.
grammar	грамматика	Grammatik	dilbilgisi	He studied English grammar.
sentence	предложение	Satz	cümle	The sentence was in passive voice.
construction	конструкция	Konstruktion	yapı	This is a complex sentence construction.
perception	восприятие	Wahrnehmung	algı	Media alters perception.
linguistic	языковой	sprachlich	dilsel	Linguistic choices matter.
active	активный	aktiv	etkin	Use active voice when possible.
passive	пассивный	passiv	edilgen	Avoid passive voice.
discourse	дискурс	Diskurs	söylem	Public discourse shapes society.
reform	реформа	Reform	reform	The system needs reform.
corruption	коррупция	Korruption	yolsuzluk	Corruption undermines trust.
marginalized	маргинализированный	ausgegrenzt	dışlanmış	Support marginalized groups.
media	СМИ	Medien	medya	The media reported it.
headline	заголовок	Überschrift	manşet	The headline was misleading.
justice system	судебная система	Justizsystem	adalet sistemi	The justice system must be fair.
victim	жертва	Opfer	kurban	The victim deserves justice.
apology	извинение	Entschuldigung	özür	The apology seemed insincere.
policy	политика	Politik	politika	The policy was unclear.
neutral	нейтральный	neutral	tarafsız	The article was not neutral.
strategic	стратегический	strategisch	stratejik	It was a strategic decision.
impact	влияние	Auswirkung	etki	The impact was significant.
institutional	институциональный	institutionell	kurumsal	Institutional power is strong.
evasion	уклонение	Ausweichen	kaçınma	The statement was an evasion.
editorial	редакционный	redaktionell	editoryal	The editorial criticized the government.
grammatical	грамматический	grammatikalisch	dilbilgisel	The error was grammatical.
legal	юридический	rechtlich	hukuki	He faced legal action.
responsibility	ответственность	Verantwortung	sorumluluk	Take responsibility.
ethical	этический	ethisch	etik	It was not ethical.
suffering	страдание	Leiden	acı	They witnessed great suffering.
error	ошибка	Fehler	hata	The error was serious.
cause	причина	Ursache	neden	What caused it?
effect	эффект	Wirkung	etki	The effect was clear.
media coverage	освещение в СМИ	Medienberichterstattung	medya kapsamı	The media coverage was biased.
formal	официальный	formell	resmi	The language was formal.
neutrality	нейтралитет	Neutralität	tarafsızlık	They claimed neutrality.
discrepancy	несоответствие	Diskrepanz	uyuşmazlık	There is a discrepancy.
enforcement	принуждение	Durchsetzung	uygulama	Law enforcement was weak.
clarity	ясность	Klarheit	açıklık	Clarity is important.
media bias	предвзятость СМИ	Medienbias	medya yanlılığı	They exposed media bias.
editor	редактор	Redakteur	editör	The editor reviewed it.
watchdog	наблюдатель	Wachhund	denetleyici	A media watchdog intervened.
grammar checker	проверка грамматики	Grammatikprüfer	dilbilgisi denetleyici	Use a grammar checker.
apologize	извиняться	sich entschuldigen	özür dilemek	They refused to apologize.
scrutiny	внимательное изучение	Überprüfung	inceleme	The project is under scrutiny.
public relations	связи с общественностью	Öffentlichkeitsarbeit	halkla ilişkiler	Public relations handled it.
campaign	кампания	Kampagne	kampanya	They launched a campaign.
movement	движение	Bewegung	hareket	The movement grew.
disempower	лишать силы	entmachten	güçsüzleştirmek	The language disempowered them.
voice	голос	Stimme	ses	Find your voice.
agency-less	без агентства	ohne Handlungsträger	failsiz	The story was agency-less.
complication	осложнение	Komplikation	komplikasyon	There was a complication.
miscalculation	ошибка в расчетах	Fehlkalkulation	hesaplama hatası	A miscalculation occurred.
neutral data	нейтральные данные	neutrale Daten	tarafsız veri	They shared neutral data.
cultural tide	культурный поток	kulturelle Strömung	kültürel eğilim	The cultural tide shifted.
scientific	научный	wissenschaftlich	bilimsel	Scientific language matters.
corporate	корпоративный	unternehmerisch	kurumsal	Corporate language avoids blame.
formality	формальность	Förmlichkeit	resmiyet	He used formality.
credibility	достоверность	Glaubwürdigkeit	güvenilirlik	Credibility is key.
evaluation	оценка	Bewertung	değerlendirme	The evaluation was fair.