Sometimes, we watch the news—and have thoughts about it. “The Orb Industry Watch” unpacks the policies, market shifts, and power plays shaping global expansion and the language industry.
President Trump’s recent executive order designating English as the official language of the United States may seem like a routine nationalist gesture. However, its true significance lies in its restructuring of access to public services and legal protections. By revoking Executive Order 13166 (which required federal agencies to provide language assistance to individuals with limited English proficiency), the administration has subtly but effectively reconfigured the relationship between language and power.
To understand the broader implications of this move, we must view language not merely as a means of communication but as a form of capital, in the Bourdieusian sense. Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of linguistic capital highlights how language proficiency is not a neutral skill but a socially valued asset that grants access to power, resources, and legitimacy. By eliminating institutional language assistance, the executive order devalues the linguistic capital of millions of non-English speakers, making participation in civic life more difficult for those who already face structural barriers.
This shift does not explicitly prohibit translation or interpretation services; rather, it removes the requirement for the federal government to provide them. The result is a transfer of responsibility from institutions to individuals, reinforcing existing disparities. Non-English speakers (many of whom are in economically or legally precarious positions) are now expected to navigate critical systems, such as healthcare and legal aid, without institutional support. This is not a direct ban, but it functions as an exclusionary mechanism nonetheless.
This is is an instance of biopolitical governance as envisioned by Foucault: the state exercises control not through overt coercion but by shaping administrative possibilities. If access to essential services is contingent upon English proficiency, language ceases to be just a medium of communication and becomes a prerequisite for full societal participation. The result is a form of soft disenfranchisement, where individuals are technically not barred from accessing services, yet face significant barriers in practice.
Historically, linguistic nationalism has been a key tool for regimes seeking to consolidate power through cultural homogenisation. The United States, despite its self-image as a pluralistic society, has long harbored monolingual tendencies, treating English not just as the dominant language but as the proper one. This executive order reinforces that ideological stance, strengthening the perception that English proficiency is a marker of legitimate national belonging. However, the reality is that the U.S. has never been a monolingual nation; indigenous languages, Spanish, French, and a variety of immigrant languages have always coexisted, often despite state efforts to suppress them.
What makes this policy particularly concerning is its subtleness. It is framed as a bureaucratic adjustment rather than an exclusionary measure, yet its effects will be felt most acutely by the individuals who rely on public services the most. The logic behind this shift echoes historical literacy tests for voting, not outright prohibiting access but constructing barriers that disproportionately affect marginalised groups.
Language is not just about words; it is about who is heard, who is included, and who has access to opportunities. This executive order does not silence voices outright, but it does make it significantly harder for them to be understood. In doing so, it reshapes the landscape of civic participation, reinforcing the idea that linguistic privilege is a prerequisite for full membership in society.
