Using the Forbidden Word: Soccer Instead of Football

The rift between Soccer and Football

In Harry Potter, our British wizards have “He Who Must Not Be Named.” The real world version of this is the word “soccer.”

I’ve had a few posts go viral during the world cup, and the most frequent reaction is to be inundated with comments and DMs of “It’s football. I can’t trust anyone that uses soccer.” Never mind the fact that I’m American with a primary American audience, I used the forbidden word.

But why is this the case? After all, the English literally invented the word soccer. Americans didn’t. It comes directly from the British. And to this day, they still use it, as one of the popular TV shows in the UK is called “Soccer Saturday.”

So why do we get this uproar? Something that doesn’t occur in the sport of Track and Field, which the British call Athletics. No one loses their mind at Americans calling it Track. We understand that different words can be used in different cultures.

It’s time for a dive into the psychology of identity through the lens of the word that shall not be said.

The Controversy

First, the etymology. Soccer is British slang that was used to distinguish association football from rugby football. It wasn’t controversial for nearly a century, and was used widely in the UK.

Across the pond in the US, American football got it’s name in a similar way. Back in the day football meant any variation of a game that resembled rugby or soccer. It’s why Rugby still holds on to “Rugby football.” And if you know the history of American football, it originally limited forward passes and such, and was more similar to Rugby. So the traditions of the day, to call anything that came out of the Rugby type lore football, stuck around.

So historically, both names make sense, even if American football doesn’t describe the game perfectly well. It has historical meaning.

And for a very long time, it wasn’t a big deal at all…Stefan Szymanski and linguist Silke Weineck tracked the historical usage and found that the word peaked around 1980 in the UK and then fell off a cliff. Meanwhile in the US, it grew steadily over a century. They tied the abrupt British decline to the rise in popularity of American soccer. First in youth sport and then with the world cups in the 1990s and the founding of American professional leagues, soccer became more mainstream in the US. So the British revolted. They abandoned the term precisely because Americans embraced it.

As Syzmanski wrote, “The penetration of the game into American culture has led to backlash against the use of the word in Britain, where it was once considered an innocuous alternative to the word ‘football.'”

It’s a defensive posture. One that becomes increasingly clear because the Americans take the heat despite Australia, Canadians, South Africa, and other nations also using the word soccer.

The Psychology Behind the Soccer Crisis

At the turn of the 20th century, Sigmund Freud coined the phrase "the narcissism of small differences." He posited that when communities have a great deal in common, they become more prone to feuding and mockery. They’re hypersensitive to minor differences and treat them as bigger than they are. When we have so much that is shared, amplifying the small differences allows us to feel distinct, to create a boundary instead of feeling like we blend in. It gets at a heart of humanity, the need to feel both a part of a group, but also distinct from it.

We can see this in modern Social Identity theory, which tells us that similarity is threatening. Psychologist call this the reactive distinctiveness hypothesis. Research tells us that when there’s low distinctiveness among groups, we look for ways to differentiate ourselves. When the “out-group” gets too similar, you push harder to re-establish difference. Or in the case of England and America, when our cultures feel like they’re a bit too close, especially in something that is strongly tied to our national identity (e.g., the national sport of ‘football’), then we push hard to re-establish a difference. Thus, England goes on a rampage scolding Americans for using the “lesser” term of soccer.

Research in 2008 point to almost exactly what happened with the use of the two terms. Across a series of studies, they found that people abandon cultural tastes when out-group members adopt them. In one study, they found that college students stopped wearing a particular wristband once members of the "geeky" academic dorm next door started wearing them. What was once cool now becomes a defining characteristic of another group. “We don’t wear those wristbands. They do….We don’t say soccer. They do!” You deny something you once wore or said, because the out-group took it on.

It’s an identity signal. The words we use, the things we wear, all signal to others and ourselves where we belong, and what sets us apart. It’s why the you wore different things in high school depending on whether you belonged to the jocks, math club, or goths. It’s why words and phrases that became popular within one group, were abandoned once they reached popularity in other groups. We all experienced this in high school. And despite thinking that we’ve evolved and are better than that…well, group psychology wins.

Add in the fact that a group we are similar too, starts to have success or achieve notoriety in something we care about, then that instinct to create differentiation is even stronger. And while the US is not on England’s level in soccer, it’s undeniable that America is having more success and interest. Which amplifies the threat to England. Our identity wiring screams, “Oh now, you’re going to intrude on our national sport!”

Success converts the out-group from harmless imitator into legitimate claimant on the thing that's supposed to be "theirs.” And the word-policing increases dramatically.

We want to be a part of a group, and distinct from others. Especially when it comes to something that is a core piece of our identity. A secure identity doesn’t feel as strong of a pull to police. One that is fragile, afraid of losing the thing that makes you special, polices non-stop. It’s why that need was strongest during our teenage years when we’re just trying to find our place in the world.

Unfortunately, with the rise of social media, many of us can’t escape high school. We’re still the band geek, jock, theater kid, or goth just trying to fit-in, while at the same time being unique from the masses. So next time you feel the urge to police language, remember. It’s more of a sign of insecurity. Real ownership is quiet. It's the anxious claim that shouts.

-Steve
(And in many ways, this post is a test. Freak out and get defensive, and you might as well be proving Freud right… Maybe we can take a page out of my favorite sport, and understand you can call it track and field or athletics, and either is fine.)