The Quebec government’s latest decision to ban the use of newly coined gender-neutral words in official communications reveals more about politics than it does about protecting the French language.
French-language Minister Jean-François Roberge insists this is not an attack on non-binary people, but rather an effort to preserve clarity. He points to the rise of pronouns like iel the French equivalent of the singular “they” and written forms such as étudiant.e.s as examples of “confusing” trends. According to him, it’s as if “everyone had their own grammar,” and the government cannot allow that.
But let’s be honest: this isn’t about grammar. Language is not static. French itself has evolved for centuries, borrowing words, bending rules, and adapting to changing societies. To act as though inclusive grammar is some existential threat to clarity is to ignore the reality that languages survive precisely because they grow with the people who use them.
What this ban truly accomplishes is symbolic: it signals to transgender and non-binary Quebecers that their linguistic identity has no place in the public sphere. Yes, the province will still allow the “X” marker on documents. But words how we address each other, how we recognize one another in writing carry far more weight than a single bureaucratic checkbox.
The government’s compromise solution of putting feminine forms in parentheses, like étudiant(e), is equally tone-deaf. Many gender-diverse advocates have already pointed out that parentheses imply secondary importance, as though femininity or anything outside the default masculine belongs in the margins.
Critics like Québec solidaire’s Manon Massé are right to call this a manufactured controversy. No one was demanding the state police its pronouns. In fact, public institutions that had begun adopting inclusive forms were simply responding to lived realities in classrooms, workplaces, and communities. This policy now tells them to stop.
Quebec has a long and proud history of defending its language. But defending does not mean freezing it in time. By shutting down attempts at gender-neutral expression, the government risks turning its fight for linguistic vitality into a fight against inclusion. And in the process, it alienates people who are already marginalized.
Language is supposed to bring us together, not serve as a wall that keeps some of us out. On this front, Quebec has chosen the wrong side.
