I just use Stardew Profits

@MarieMarion@literature.cafe @OddDeer@lemmy.dbzer0.com thanks for being my audience. Skip to the end for a TL;DR.
The abbreviated version of the speech follows:

In English, everybody uses the same personal pronouns (I, my, me). We do have unique pronouns that characterize people based on individual characteristics, but those are all 3rd-person pronouns (he, she, they). What this means is that in English, your pronouns are fundamentally decided by somebody else. Yes, you can still tell somebody your preferred pronouns and request that they use those 3rd-person pronouns to refer to you, but fundamentally it is a decision that is up to them; you cannot force somebody to refer to you in a certain way.

I bring that up because in Japanese it’s actually the opposite. It is the 1st-person pronouns that are unique and characterize people. There are at least 5 personal pronouns that I would say are in common use today but historically there’s a lot more, maybe dozens. Do you want to subversively use a more masculine pronoun as a woman? Do you want to use an antiquated formal pronoun at all times? Do you want to use a mildly formal basic pronoun that doesn’t really reveal much about yourself? Literally nobody can stop you. Yeah they can judge you for it, but it’s different from English in that the language is designed so that you have control over your pronouns.

This difference between the two languages led me to two conclusions.
The first is that: pronouns have become such a big “problem” in the Anglosphere. Imagine a conversation between two people where one introduces themselves with “My pronouns are she/they, what are yours?” and the other person responds “I don’t really believe in having pronouns. I think it’s kinda weird.”
Don’t you immediately get the impression that these people are on opposite sides? That there is some serious conflict in their points of view? It’s easy to get caught up in that dichotomy, and yes there is a “right” side. It’s good to respect people’s preferred pronouns. But I want you to realize that this “problem” exists entirely in the language itself. If we had the power to declare our own pronouns without making a request, to “say and therefore be,” the problem would largely disappear. People would still judge you. People will still disrespect you. But the English language gives people a tool to do so.

The second conclusion that I came to is that linguistically, English is actually pretty conformist/collectivist while Japanese is pretty individualistic. It’s pretty common knowledge among people who make a distinction between “individualistic” and “collectivist” cultures that Anglosphere countries are considered to be more individual while Asian, particularly Sinosphere countries like Japan, are considered to be more collectivist. But if you told me to compare the pronouns in two languages: one of which has tools for you to put other people into simple boxes and no tools to express yourself, the other has tools to express yourself and you cannot put other people into boxes; I would definitely come to the non-obvious conclusion that Japan is a much more individualistic culture while Anglosphere countries are all collectivist. I could definitely go into more depth here, but I’m sure you already see the broad point: the collectivist/individualist dichotomy is a false one. Cultures all have elements that are one or the other. Everybody universally appreciates some things that are individualist, like art, and other things that are collectivist, like family and school.

As a last point, I want to address an obvious elephant-in-the-room for people who speak Japanese. You all know I’ve been ignoring a very important fact about Japanese that punches a big hole in the argument. Japanese already has the exact same 3rd-person gendered pronouns as English: 彼氏 (kareshi, he) and 彼女 (kanojo, she). I would like to counter that observation with two points: first, those words are used FAR less often than they are in English. When speaking in the 2nd- or 3rd-person in Japanese, it is very common to forego pronouns and just use somebody’s name. In fact, if you use the 2nd-person pronouns in almost any context, it’s a little weird; almost like you forgot their name and have to call them “hey you” instead. In 3rd-person, you also typically will refer to somebody by name as well, and would rarely use kareshi or kanojo.
A second point: kareshi and kanojo are literally English imports. In the Meiji era of Japan after their long isolationist period, there was a desire to find ways to translate the gendered pronouns in English and French literature, which is where kareshi and kanojo (the latter originally kano’onna) came from in the first place.

If I wanted to fill more time I would also talk about how honorifics can personalize 2nd- and 3rd-person communication, the implications of using specific Japanese 1st-person pronouns, and I could really go in depth speculating about how English could have a neopronoun revolution in the future not via ones like xe/xim but rather anon, oomfie, homie, bestie, my guy, my brother in christ, girlipop, etc. and that maybe we are seeing that revolution right now.

TL;DR: English pronouns create some problems because they let you put other people into gendered boxes while Japanese pronouns let you express yourself and your unique relationships with other people. This should make us skeptical any time we hear somebody say that a culture is entirely “individualistic” or “collectivist,” and we should also recognize that the problem that some people have with respecting preferred pronouns is almost entirely a linguistic problem (sure, exacerbated by anti-trans outgroup politics) rather than an actual problem in people’s viewpoints. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

A pendulum is a good way of looking at it. What you see in the Medieval period is, as an example, musicians writing more and more challenging lines to sing. Wider leaps, rapid-fire phrases…and this is how they show off their skills. You see this more in the secular music of the day, as the church is constantly pushing for sacred music that doesn’t call attention to itself. But, the backlash happens because while those complex, jagged lines might be lots of fun for the singer, not so much for the listener. And so begins a movement toward vocal lines that are easier on the ears - smoother, more melodic, easier to sing, which also lines up nicely with developments in counterpoint and polyphony that allow major forms like the motet to come into being.

And of course musicians, not being able to help themselves, start competing with each other to write more and more complex motets, which sparks another aesthetic backlash, and it all starts again.

This is a gross simplification of course but just to give you an idea how this all works.