As an old hand with social justice language use, I've always had an ambivalent relationship with the concept. I've recently come across the term "Equity Language", which describes the concept of changing language to ostensibly create more positive and affirming associations. Words clearly matter, but how much?
In the 1990's, the term Politically Correct went mainstream. Starting as an in-joke on the left to critique over-sensitivity and group-think, it was soon taken up on the right as a convenient cudgel not only for overly-sensitive progressives, but for the ideas and theories which they promoted. It was not only "PC" to say "People of Color", but also to bring attention to racial identity and the ways in which marginalization of those groups persisted. In a handy bit of jujitsu, an association was made between a cynical lack of good faith in both the morality and intelligence of others (you are guilty of not recognizing the suffering of others at best, or harboring prejudice at worst), and a dismissal of any concern that such suffering or prejudice exists. The term was also quite fungible - it could come to mean any manner of progressive social movements: race, feminism, environmental concerns, inequality, etc. So not only could you shift the discussion from a critique of serious ideas to a critique of personal social obnoxiousness. Further, when highlighting the "groupthink" component of political correctness, detractors could also undermine any serious discussion of underlying progressive critiques by attacking the epistemological foundations of their beliefs as motivated not by reason or social analysis but rather mere adherence to arbitrary protocols of group membership. PC language was less an attempt to instantiate progressive thought but a way to signal in vs. out groups and personal moral performance.
If I recall correctly, in the 2000's, PC, possibly having lost its cultural cache though overuse and abuse, it reappeared in newly-online discourse under the term "Social Justice Warrior", or SJW. This highlighted an online political correctness that not only sought to correct language, but to actively promote progressive thought with a similarly obnoxious, smug and arrogant demeanor.
In the 2010's, a transition again occurred, this time into the concept of "woke", reaching an explosion onto the cultural stage with the Black Lives Matter movement. The term itself wasn't new, tracing back to the civil rights era as a black vernacular description of "awaken consciousness" - in a decidedly positive and progressive direction. But now the term woke made a swift transition to a near identical stand-in for the previously used PC and SJW. "Woke politics" referred again less to actual ideas and theories, but rather to something rather recently coined as a "mind virus"- in which one's capacity for serious thought is hijacked by a rigid ideology that serves not legitimate discourse or social change but signaling and out-group slander.
Interestingly, there does not appear to be a similar critique in the other direction, from the left to the right, despite the fact that conservatives themselves are just as guilty of group-think, and personal obnoxiousness. However, the reason we don't notice it as much has to do with the basic differences between conservatism and progressivism.
Progressivism is defined by an ongoing deconstructing of social traditions, most notably the human tendency towards hierarchy and power relations of social control and how it functions to limit personal freedom and equity. Conservatism is defined by an ongoing defense of social tradition and hierarchy - or, more charitably, that hierarchies and power relations are much more equal than progressives make them out to be. Thus, the cultural momentum is always tilted in favor of the status quo, which already serves to define in and out groups, and is fed by a larger and more pervasive "group think". The progressive observes, defines, compares, analyzes, and then proposes new ideas and social forms. This starts at the micro level and expands outward to effect broader social changes to varying degrees. The conservative stands on tradition, which is partly defined by an explicit absence of observation, analysis and deconstruction. While the progressive often pushes a "radical" agenda that takes risk in new modes of cultural practice, the conservative stance is Buckley "standing athwart history yelling stop" and a cautious appeal to the wisdom of avoiding "unintended consequences". Both of these stances create their own identities, the progressive as always on the attack, with the conservative always on defense.
When everyone is wearing white at the party, and a small contingent shows up in red, it is the red group who seems suspiciously "out of place" and reasonably presumed to have conspired amongst themselves to take a bold action: the conditions ripe for something like group-think to take hold. So too does their provocative red attire seem to imply a critique of those in white. Why red? Is there something wrong with white? When one of them overzealously makes obnoxious assumptions during conversation with a guest wearing white - perhaps instead of emphasizing that wearing different colors is perfectly fine, they instead make accusations about the character of those in white, suggesting they are ignorant of color, or harbor secret ill-feelings towards the color red, you might be inclined to define this behavior as overly sensitive or antagonistic, or simply wearing red to "be cool". While we can imagine in this scenario such critiques to be accurate, we could as easily imagine some of those in white to be no less susceptible to obnoxious and acrimonious reaction.
In taking these dynamics into account, I'm always torn in sympathizing both with legitimate progressive social critique and its entailment of active social pressure towards change, but so too the understandable exhaustion by those on the receiving end of unreasonable, misguided, or downright anti-social progressive cultural discourse. From within the left, I have my own progressive social critiques of traditional social behavior, but so to have seen progressives resorting to dialogue in which bad-faith arguments, ad hominem attacks take the place of substantive engagement of what are almost by definition complex moral and political questions about power, equality and freedom. My most pointed observation may be that the historical schism between so-called "liberal" and "progressive" - the discrepancy in rate and magnitude of structural change being advocated - informs this subject such that in preferring a more mild and less radical approach, liberals might find an emphasis on language preferable to an emphasis on action. To hear many liberals, talk, it would seem that many social inequities have their root in language (and belief), rather than deeper structural forces that give rise to language and belief in the first place. Equity language requires one to merely learn new vocabulary, a process that can be accomplished without doing the laborious work of deep observation, analysis, and, harder still, advocacy and engagement in a larger social and political process.
To illustrate, in a town where segregation is widespread, and pay is unequal, much of the language used might reflect a demeaning association towards the poor and segregated. But what good will enforcing more equitable language do if the economic on political systems in the town serve to perpetuate disparity. As Equity Language guidelines appear to be flowering in prominent organizations across the country (e.g., the Sierra Club, American Medical Association, etc.) one has to wonder if - as good-faith as they may genuinely be - this project might not serve as a useful smokescreen for avoiding more radical restructuring of actual policies and practices that tangibly impact the subject of the terminology, they are advocating alteration of.
In linguistic terms, we see a futility in equity language in the absence of structural reform in the concept of the "euphemism treadmill", technically termed "pejoration". This describes the process by which terminology with negative associations are discarded in favor of fresh new words with no negative associations, and yet after a period of time the new terms simply take on all the old negative baggage. The term "imbecile" (from the Latin "weak-minded", used to refer to people with mental disabilities) at the beginning of last century was replaced with "retarded", which was then towards the end of the century replaced with intellectually disabled, and which now in the early 21st century is being re-evaluated for replacement yet again. Evidently, the negative associations arose when users of the new terms - their motivations and beliefs apparently unchanged - simply used the words in the old, unfortunate ways.
This seems an empirical question, albeit a difficult one: what impact does changing language really have? The last century has seen a great change in social perception of mental disabilities, owing to a wide array of movements. Most notably, a long series of legal cases have changed our laws surrounding how society treats the disabled, from access to services such as IEPs in school, to physical alterations to the infrastructure of sidewalks, busses, and places of business, to laws banning discrimination in employment and housing. How much of this was due to not to changing the associations of the words we use to describe disabilities, but rather how much individuals and groups have mobilized to argue for better treatment?
It may be helpful for us to begin by assessing how the language itself is used.
An inequitable word or phrase is commonly referred to as a slur, in that it implies a derogatory claim or implication, or otherwise disrespect for its subject. ("Slur" is generally evocative of the harshest terms, but for our purposes the degree of derogation in any particular term is in question, so I'll use it to refer both in its strong sense as well its weaker, more contested senses.)
A slur can be used in different ways, and with subtle difference of meaning. In its most explicit form, it is used to express strong derogation of its subject. The N-word is the clearest example. But a similarly strong sentiment - of dehumanization or devaluation - can be expressed in similar service as a humorous punchline (this provides the speaker a benefit of possibly avoiding accusations of personal moral failure if he simply argues he was "only joking", and misdirects the listener to examine his own, different moral rectitude with the admonition to "lighten up."
However, more commonly slurs are uttered without derogative intent, but without the speaker's knowledge of a particular historical context of the subject's position or that the subject might take offense at the term. A recent example of this is the public apology by Whoopie Goldberg, who on her "The View" television program used the term "gypped" to describe being taken advantage of monetarily. In her apology, she admitted to having not been aware of the historical origins of the term as a derogatory slur against the Romani people, previously referred to as "Gypsies", with a bigoted insinuation of dishonesty and thievery. A stronger example of this - and a term of which it is much harder to claim ignorance of, might be the antisemitic "Jewed", with (historically notable) similar connotations of dishonest financial exchange.
However, another category of slur usage might be more relatable to conservative speakers. This would be examples of usage in which the speaker actually disagrees with the connotation and would argue the basis upon which the claim that the term is in fact a slur is contested. An example here might be the recent appeal to change "homeless" to "unhoused". The claim that the former is a slur while the latter is not rests on the larger claim that the position of people living "on the street" have a legitimate claim not to be viewed as being either morally culpable for their failure to find housing, or that society has a particular moral culpability in their predicament. One might disagree with one or both claims. Furthermore, these speakers might feel that even if the subject (or a plurality of which) takes offense at the term, their ire is misplaced as it doesn't accurately reflect any derogatory sentiment on the part of the speaker. "Don't be so sensitive" is a refrain here that echoes the "can't you take a joke" line previously mentioned.
Proponents of Equity Language usually make an additional claim about the social implications of slurs. Apart from the degree to which a slur expresses the speaker's own internal motivations, it is also claimed that a slur serves to normalize and reinforce both attitudes towards its subject as well as modes of thought and assumptions that give rise to inequitable treatment of the subject. This is a harder case to make from an epistemological standpoint, as isolating the independent variable in a slur's effects on society at large, or even across a small community, is nearly impossible to measure. It stands to reason however, at least with stronger forms of slur (e.g., the N-Word) not only does the term cause offense and harm in black listeners, but so too does it normalize dehumanizing and negative associations with black people by members of other racial categories. However, with weaker forms (e.g., homeless versus unhoused) this proposition seems to rest on much flimsier ground. While certainly plausible, it is harder to imagine.
It may be helpful now to turn from use of the slur to use of the euphemism, for it too can have different uses by different speakers.
Primarily, the motivations of the speaker of the euphemism can be categorized in 4 uses. First, by a desire not to offend the terms subject. Secondarily, by a desire not to misidentify the historical context, position or status of the subject. Third, the speaker may want to actively make an association that actively highlights a particular nature of the subject, its historical context, or a specific political relationship. A good example of this might be the preference of "person-centered language", in which the subject is teased out to illustrate a particular social dynamic. An instance of this can be seen in "Autistic person" versus "Person with Autism. The former centers the diagnosis as a prominent, defining feature of the individual, while the latter seeks to illustrate autism as only one among many possible features that define the individual. The stress here arises from a historical context in which an autism diagnosis has served to marginalize, limit and dehumanize the individual, overshadowing all of the other more salient and positive aspects of their personhood.
A fourth motivation of the euphemism's speaker is less flattering (and ironic), if true. As previously mentioned, a common critique of equity language use (political correctness, SJW, Woke, etc.) is that it can function as a "performance", motivated by a desire to signal one's moral rectitude. In this way, the concern is less about the subject, but rather the elevation of speaker himself - either in his own imagination, or to others. The signal can highlight different forms of speakers desire. It can serve to validate one as a card-carrying member when speaking to the in-group, or as possessing a powerful, morally superior knowledge when speaking to the out-group. (This former usage brings to mind the curious role embrace of conspiracy seems to have in individuals who find in it a sense of empowerment that comes from possessing a secret knowledge that mere "normals" have yet to discover).
A final motivation of the speaker is also less flattering, in that it arises from a desire to avoid either the actions involved in political mobilization, or the difficult internal thought processes involved in more clearly understanding deeper mechanisms at work in social structures that perpetuate the inequities the euphemism seeks to overcome. In this sense, the critique would be that the speaker is "taking the easy way out" by over-emphasizing the role language plays in social change. This critique depends on the degree of change euphemism use has on social relations, which as noted previously appears an unsettled question.
I'm not a linguist, but it seems fair to say that a salient feature of language is that change is constant. As society changes through history, our behaviors and relationships with one another change. The systems within we organize ourselves change. Equity Language is an attempt to intervene and put some degree of pressure on that change, such that it conforms to our ever-evolving world views. In the case of a handful of words, their harm appears obvious, but for many more the case for harm is difficult to assess. As humans, our motivations for use of particular terms can be complex, as are the interpretative frameworks listeners bring with them when they hear us.
In the social media age, it is easier than ever to rapidly send out unfinished, malformed or otherwise "throw away" language. This makes discourse even more slippery. Frequently, miscommunication arises over differing interpretations of both speaker intent as well as listener interpretation, and the actual meaning of the subject under discussion takes a backseat to superfluous debates over meaning in which lengthy dialogues pass likes ships in the night and no one is the wiser. Rigidity with language can have its place, such as when evidence of intent and meaning is clear, and both parties can debate with equal understanding at least of term usage and can move on to discussions of deeper assumptions about social preferences. I'm still less convinced about the extent to which most terminology actually affects broader culture; however, I am open to cases being made.