As the co-founder of a new organization dedicated to empowering Jewish people through coordinated action on social media, I have had the privilege of engaging with hundreds of individuals and numerous organizations about our collective mission to combat antisemitism. Too often, I hear references to the Jewish people in ways that feel dismissive, critical and self-deprecating. Discussions revolve around what “the Jews” can and cannot do, what people like or dislike about “the Jews” and what is expected of “the Jews.” Jewish people ought to refer to themselves as “the Jewish people” as opposed to “the Jews” or simply “Jews.” It might seem like an unimportant distinction but words matter and how we describe ourselves to ourselves and to others reflect upon us internally and externally.
I recently had a conversation with an individual who has dedicated his life to combating the threats the Jewish people face in the aftermath of October 7. He sits at the helm of an effort to mesh together the ecosystem of several organizations’ efforts to combat antisemitism through technology and advocacy. In a moment of exhaustion, he half-jokingly remarked that, after spending so much time in the trenches, he felt more antisemitic than before he started. It was meant as a joke, but it struck a nerve. If someone of this caliber who understands the nature of our problems and who is willing to dedicate his life to helping is able to speak in those terms, it begs the question: What does it say about how ordinary Jewish people see themselves? It is important for all people to be mindful and vigilant against these types of self-descriptions.
Another example of this would be in the world of entertainment. I’ve heard countless Jewish comedians speak about Jewish people in the most careless of ways, reinforcing stereotypes. In the aftermath of October 7 and the repositioning of our understanding of the centrality of antisemitism in the world, a reexamination of this practice is well overdue. This shouldn’t be taken as an attempt to stifle free speech in any way. There is a place for poking fun at one’s own culture; people should say what they want, but they should realize that the things they say are not harmless and do have consequences.
A healthy degree of humility is valuable; it allows us to reflect and remain grounded. But when self-deprecation goes too far, it could potentially create a sense of self-doubt that holds us back. Language matters. The added humanity in adding the word “people” makes a difference, and yet even the most dedicated members of the Jewish community often default to saying “the Jews” or just “Jews.”
It is understandable why Jewish people often struggle with these dynamics. We exist in a unique situation, fully participating in modern society while always feeling the weight of our past. We have been simultaneously accepted and ostracized, embraced and marginalized. This dual reality creates an ever-present balancing act: We want to integrate, but we also carry an instinctive wariness.
The way Jewish people speak about themselves matters, not just to the outside but internally as well! Our children listen to everything we say. Our friends and allies observe how we carry ourselves. Even our critics take note. If we want the world to respect Jewish people, we ought to be thoughtful about how we speak about ourselves. By referring to ourselves as “the Jewish people” as opposed to “the Jews” or “Jews,” we signal to all a meaningful shift, one that frames us as individuals bound by shared culture and history rather than as some faceless, collective entity.
Daniel M. Rosen is a co-founder and chairman of Minds and Hearts and is responsible for setting the strategic direction of a new effort to fight antisemitism and anti-Israel sentiment online, through rallies, protests and mass letter-writing campaigns.
