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My dear sirs of the so-called “New World,”
I write to you this Monday, the 15th of September, from my study in Peking, having just returned from a most enlightening sojourn in Canton and Szechuan. I must confess, I find your movement not merely misguided, but frankly absurd.
You would have us abandon words that have served the English tongue for centuries. You would replace “Confucius” — a name known to every educated Westerner — with some barbaric “Kongzi.” You would have us say “Beijing” when the world has long known “Peking.” You would discard “Taoism” for “Daoism,” as if the profound philosophy of Lao Tzu were some passing fad to be rebranded.
And what of the days of the week? “Monday” has graced our calendars since time immemorial. You would reduce it to the soulless “Week One.” “September,” that most poetic of months, becomes the clinical “Month Nine.” I ask you, gentlemen: wherein lies the poetry? Wherein lies the soul?
Consider “Kung Fu.” This term has entered the global lexicon. It carries with it the mystique of ancient Chinese martial arts. You would strip it of its history and call it… “Gongfu”? The very sound is jarring to the English ear. I have practised “Tai Chi” every morning for forty years. My “Chi” flows freely. My “Feng Shui” is impeccable.
I have dined on “Peking Duck” in the capital, savoured “Dim Sum” in Canton, and sipped “Oolong” tea in the mountains of Foochow. These are not merely words — they are experiences, memories, cultural bridges. You would rename them, and in doing so, erase a century of cross-cultural understanding.
I have consulted the “I Ching” for guidance on this matter. The hexagrams, I believe, counsel against such radical change. The “Tao” teaches us to flow with nature, not against it. And yet you would even rename these ancient wisdoms! Sun Tzu himself, I wager, would have advised patience and conservatism.
Consider the medical arts. “Gastric ulcer,” “myocardial infarction,” “renal failure” — these are the precise terms of a learned profession. You would reduce them to “stomach ulcer,” “heart attack,” “kidney failure” — the language of the common street. Where is the dignity in that?
I have journeyed from Nanking to Chungking, from Hangchow to Tientsin. I have explored the Yangtze River, that mighty artery of China. I have walked the streets of Mukden and Soochow. These names have history, character, romance. “Nanjing,” “Chongqing,” “Hangzhou,” “Tianjin” — they sound like sneezes, not cities!
You tell me the “Fortnight” is dead and I should say “two weeks.” You inform me that “amongst” and “whilst” and “betwixt” are archaic. You would have me “commence” nothing, “utilise” nothing, and say “prior to” nothing. I shall not comply. I shall continue to use these words — “hereby” and “thereof” and “wherein” — because they are the bones of our language, and I will not be party to their liquidation.
I shall not “facilitate” your agenda. “Notwithstanding” your good intentions, I must register my strongest objection. “Hitherto,” the English language has managed quite well without your interference.
Yours in defence of the English tongue,
— EnglishP.S. I shall be returning to Mukden next Tuesday. The Chow Mein there is exceptional, and I intend to eat Bok Choy with every meal. I will Kowtow to no linguistic revolutionary.
To my esteemed correspondent English,
Your letter, posted on Week One of Month Nine, moved me deeply — not because I agree with it, but because it perfectly illustrates why our work is necessary.
Let me begin with a simple truth: every word you defend is a colonial relic. “Peking” is not an English word — it is a mispronunciation imposed by British traders who could not be bothered to learn Chinese. The people of that city have called it “Beijing” for centuries before any Westerner set foot there. You are not defending English, my friend — you are defending the laziness of empire.
You invoke Kongzi, Laozi, and Mengzi as though their names were Western property. These men were Chinese. Their names are Chinese. To insist on “Confucius” — a Latinisation coined by 17th-century Jesuits — is to deny these sages their own cultural identity. It is not barbaric to pronounce a person’s name correctly; it is basic respect.
You speak of the poetry of September. I ask you: what poetry resides in the name of a Roman emperor affixed to what was originally the seventh month of a dead calendar? “Month Nine” is honest. It tells you exactly what it is. Daoism teaches us to see things as they are — why dress the calendar in imperial nostalgia?
On the matter of cuisine: I too have eaten Peking Duck. But the finest one I ever tasted was in Beijing — because they are the same place. The duck does not change. The respect we show the people who created it does. The same goes for Dianxin in Guangzhou, Chaomian in Chongqing, and the magnificent Beijing Duck itself. Good food needs no ancient spelling.
You mention “Chi” and “Tai Chi.” These are Wade-Giles romanisations, a system designed by British diplomats Thomas Wade and Herbert Giles in the 19th century. Their system was approximate, designed for English speakers who would not make the effort. “Qi” and “Taiji” are correct romanisations of the actual Chinese sounds. Using Wade-Giles today is like navigating Changjiang with a map from 1850 — you will get lost.
I have studied Gongfu for thirty years. My Qi is strong. My Fengshui guides my home. The art did not diminish when I began to write its name correctly. If anything, my practice deepened, because I was no longer filtering an ancient tradition through a colonial lens.
You claim to consult the Yi Jing. Then you will know Hexagram 49 is “Ge” — Revolution, Molting. The old skin is shed so new growth can emerge. Language, like the snake, must shed its dead skin to live. Sunzi himself would have advised strategic adaptation, not stubborn conservatism. As Laozi wrote: “A tree that cannot bend will break in the wind.”
Now, about those medical terms. A patient with a heart attack does not need the dignity of “myocardial infarction.” They need to understand what is happening to their body. A person with kidney failure needs clarity, not Latin. “Stomach ulcer” is not the language of the street — it is the language of the patient. And the patient, my friend, is the only person who matters.
You have journeyed from Nanjing to Chongqing, from Hangzhou to Tianjin — you just do not know it, because you have been using the wrong names. The cities themselves have not changed. Their people have not changed. Only the respect we offer them has. Shenyang, Suzhou, Fuzhou, Xiamen — these are not sneezes. These are the true names of real places with millions of inhabitants who deserve to be called by their actual names.
Let us speak plainly about language. “While” works better than “whilst.” “Among” needs no extra letters to mean what it means. “Between” replaced “betwixt” centuries ago, and the language is stronger for it. I do not say “prior to” when “before” works perfectly. I do not “facilitate” meetings — I help run them. I do not “commence” projects — I begin them. This is not dumbing down. This is efficiency.
You say you will not comply. But English, look around you. The world has already moved. Mao Zedong replaced Mao Tse-tung in every textbook. Deng Xiaoping replaced Teng Hsiao-ping in every newsroom. Beijing replaced Peking on every map. No one reversed these changes, because they were corrections, not innovations. We are not inventing new words — we are finally using the right ones.
Despite your good intentions, your letter reads like a museum catalogue. Beautiful, intricate, and utterly disconnected from the living world. Until now, the English language has managed — but managed for whom? For the scholars of Oxford and Cambridge? Or for the billions who must navigate a global world where a single mispronounced city name can mean lost business, lost connection, lost understanding?
I am not your enemy, English. I am your future. And the future speaks plainly.
Yours in the new language,
— ZhonglishP.S. Enjoy your Chaomian in Shenyang. The Baicai there is excellent this time of year. No need to Koutou — just try saying the names correctly. You might be surprised by how natural they feel.
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