“Language creates and sustains the world of men.”
— Simone de Beauvoir
Language is the most powerful tool in shaping societal communication and transmitting historical narratives. Each of the identities we inhabit in daily life brings with it certain linguistic patterns. These patterns are not always explicitly normative. For instance, if you are a lawyer, the legal terminology you use— or, if you are a journalist, the editorial style in your headlines—can be defining for your professional identity. Yet our profession does not encompass all aspects of our daily identities. At times, we are viewed by society as simply a child or a parent. At other times, our gender is our primary visible attribute. Beyond mere existence, being designated by a term can turn life into a political process.
Simone de Beauvoir asserts that language is an instrument through which women’s social positions are reproduced. Women’s experiences and identities are seldom fully represented in male‑dominated language and law, often rendering them deficient or secondary. Daily language patterns internalize and legitimize these norms. The transformation of sexist jargon into societal standards illustrates Beauvoir’s concept of the “Other,” showing how language functions as a tool of power. Legal language frequently disregards women’s subjective experiences, perpetuating male‑dominated norms within legal frameworks.
Legitimized sexist discourse in society reflects not only individual prejudices but also the power of normalized language patterns, which reproduce gender inequality. When exclusionary linguistic structures become naturalized, discrimination subtly weaves into society’s fabric. Legal language mirrors this, constructing women as “non‑men” and reinforcing their secondary status.
One prominent example in the discourse on language, identity, and norms is the usage of the term “hakime” to refer to female judges in Turkish. Although the judiciary is formally gender‑neutral, the unexamined use of a feminized variation continues erroneously. The creation of a distinct term for female judges does not emphasize one’s professional identity but rather one’s gender, presenting women as exceptions rather than full participants. This linguistic distinction extends beyond mere etiquette and indicates a deeper ideological paradigm of how women are represented within legal systems.
Using “hakime” to address female judges is not, under Turkish Criminal Law, explicitly criminalized. However, when employed with a diminutive or sexist intent, it may be considered an insult and prosecuted accordingly. Case law from the Court of Cassation treats such expressions not just at the lexical level, but considers the recipient’s perception and manner of delivery. Consequently, it is not inherently subject to criminal sanction. Nonetheless, “hakime” stands out as a problematic form of address, since it undermines gender equality. This usage reflects that legal language is imbued with societal gender norms.
Judges have historically played a central role in the realization of justice. The blindfolded figure of Themis symbolizes the principles of objectivity and impartiality in law. Thus, those who administer justice should not tolerate inequalities. When performing their duties, judges are required to wear robes— the same robe for all, regardless of gender. The color and design of robes reflect professional status, not gender. This signifies that legal status is independent of sex and that justice must operate within a gender‑neutral framework. Transforming legal language—even at the basic level of “hakim” vs. “hakime”—is a prerequisite to eliminating gendered privilege. Wearing the robe symbolizes legal authority; being identified by gender should not precede legal competence.
To truly uphold the principle of equality in law, society must decisively move to establish justice free from all gender bias. This is a pressing responsibility, not just for legislators or legal professionals, but for every participant in shaping social and institutional language. It is necessary to actively challenge and reform sexist patterns in legal language, pursuing greater inclusivity and genuine neutrality. Only through deliberate action can we ensure that all members of the judiciary—especially women—are recognized and respected as equal, dignified legal subjects. The transformation of language is not an abstract goal, but a concrete step that demands our ongoing commitment.
