When Language Becomes a Blade: Propaganda, Verbal Violence, and the Threat to Democracy’s Future
The Era of Ferocious Communication: Let’s Open the Windows—The Air is Unbreathable
Picture a room with sealed windows, filled with stale, suffocating air—a stench so overwhelming it forces you to gasp. That’s what today’s ferocious communication feels like: it doesn’t allow for thought, but stuns and shocks until collapse. Political declarations today, like those made by Italy’s Undersecretary Andrea Delmastro, seem to be aimed at removing oxygen—not just for opponents, but for anyone daring to dissent. Statements such as “prisoners shouldn’t breathe” are not mere slips of the tongue; they are linguistic grenades, thrown deliberately to fracture and provoke.
Here’s the scene: during the unveiling of new prisoner transfer vehicles for 41bis detainees, Delmastro adopted a calculated language—far from accidental. It’s a code, a way of communicating designed not just to impress, but to shape a worldview: brutal, unyielding, where law is no longer justice but punishment in its harshest form. Within the phrase “they shouldn’t breathe,” lies the essence of a communication style turned propaganda—a practiced art of polarization.
The Short-Circuit of Language
What happens when the state—the cornerstone of democracy—starts speaking this way? The language stops being a bridge and becomes a blade. The line between justice and punitive vengeance begins to blur, while audiences stop reflecting and merely react—often angrily, from both sides. That’s the real danger: discussion and reasoning give way to knee-jerk responses, forcing people to choose their side of the wall without question.
This distortion of language isn’t unique to Italy—it’s a global trend. In the U.S., Donald Trump transformed Twitter into a battlefield; now, Elon Musk amplifies the same divisive strategy on X, promoting content that screams and divides. The outcome of this approach is disorienting but unmistakable. It’s a contagion, a pandemic of words not used to enlighten but to ignite. And this fire has spread to Italy, where politics now favors slogans over thought, spectacle over substance, and vicious accusations over constructive political debate. Dialogue has been replaced with shouting matches, both on television and in public squares.
A Frightening Future
If this path continues, the future will be one of unbearable, shouted monologues. Every word will become a weapon, every conversation a battlefield. As the noise grows, democracy thins—it becomes fragile. Verbal violence often precedes physical violence: history has shown us this, though we seem to have chosen to forget.
So, what remains of the breath of thought?
What remains is the urgent need to reclaim it: to open the windows in that stifling room, to recover a language that listens as much as it speaks—a language with the courage to be nuanced, complex, and human.
Because the real danger isn’t just getting used to ferocity—it’s no longer noticing it. And by then, it will be too late.