The Great "Women" Debacle: BBC News Presenter, Croxall, Risks It All for Biological Reality.

How One Brave Journalist Dared to Speak Plain English and Sent the Linguistic Numpties Into a Spin.

(Image: Newscom.au)

In a truly audacious act of defiance, BBC News presenter Martine Croxall (pictured) recently committed a linguistic transgression so heinous, so utterly anachronistic, it sent the denizens of the digital realm into a collective spin of outrage and delight. Her crime? Daring to utter the word, brace yourselves, "women."

Yes, you read that correctly. While bravely navigating the treacherous waters of a mundane (and frankly, inconveniently warm) report from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, Ms. Croxall faced a perilous moment. The autocue, that seemingly infallible oracle of modern parlance, presented her with the frankly idiotic phrase, "pregnant people."

But then, a flicker of ancient memory, a rogue neuron, or perhaps simply a pressing need for a sandwich, spurred Ms. Croxall to action. With a glint in her eye (we imagine, she is a newsreader, so likely a steely gaze of quiet rebellion), she interjected with a whispered, yet undeniably audible, "women." The sheer audacity! The unadulterated effrontery of it all! In an age where even the most basic biological realities are subject to fervent debate and linguistic gymnastics, a BBC presenter dared to suggest that those capable of carrying a pregnancy might, just might, fall under the umbrella term of "women."

Naturally, the internet, in its infinite wisdom, did what it does best: collectively lost its mind. Supporters lauded her as a champion of common sense, a brave warrior against the forces of linguistic obfuscation. Detractors, presumably, are still attempting to compose 280-character screeds without inadvertently implying biological sex.

Ms. Croxall, ever the picture of stoic professionalism, addressed the hullabaloo on X with a cryptic yet perfectly understated message: "A huge thank you to everyone who has chosen to follow me today for whatever reason. It's been quite a ride." "Quite a ride," indeed. One might even say it was a bumpy ride, a linguistic joyride that veered sharply off the prescribed highway and into the uncharted territory of… well, reality.

One can only imagine the hushed conversations at Broadcasting House: "Did you hear what Martine did?" "She said what?" "Fetch the sensitivity trainers! And perhaps a dictionary from, dare I say it, the last century!"

Now, let's address the enormous, non-binary, emotionally supported, elephant-shaped entity in the room. Martine Croxall's daring pronouncement of "women" wasn't just a slip of the tongue; it was a defiant roar in the face of what can only be described as the utter, soul-crushing, joy-sucking, and frankly, pathetic contortion of the English language by a particular cohort of, shall we say, "linguistic innovators."

Yes, I'm talking about the numpties.

These aren't your Shakespearean scholars or your Dickensian wordsmiths. Oh no. These are the self-appointed guardians of "inclusivity" who, in their valiant quest to offend absolutely nobody, end up offending anyone with a shred of common sense and a passing familiarity with, you know, words.

Consider the recent linguistic acrobatics:

• "Pregnant people": As Martine bravely highlighted, this gem seeks to erase the pesky biological reality that, last time anyone checked, it's typically women who get pregnant. Are we now to refer to "people with prostates" instead of men? Or "people with ovaries" instead of women? Where does it end? Do we start saying "people with sticky-out ears" instead of "Dumbo"? The absurdity is palpable. I'm prepared to bet anyone who cares to venture into any maternity ward the length and breadth of this disunited Kingdom, that each and every bed will be occupied by a vagina.

• "Chestfeeding": Because "breastfeeding" might, heaven forbid, imply breasts, and breasts are, alarmingly, associated with women. So, let's invent a clunky, clinical term that sounds less like a natural act of maternal nurture and more like something you'd do in a sterile lab with a pipette. Next up: "oral intake of solidified nutrient blocks" instead of "eating a sandwich."

• "Folx": This particular linguistic abomination, a valiant attempt to be inclusive by... changing a vowel and adding an "x" to "folks," achieves precisely nothing beyond making the user sound like they're trying desperately to signal their virtue. It's not clever, it's not inclusive, it's just plain annoying.

• "Latinx": Ah, the Spanish language, a beautiful, gendered tongue. But apparently, too gendered for our numpties. So, let's slap an "x" on it and declare victory, conveniently ignoring the fact that most actual Spanish speakers find it utterly baffling and unpronounceable. It's the linguistic equivalent of trying to fix a broken engine with glitter and good intentions. Bollox, more like.

The tragic irony in all of this is that these linguistic contortions, far from fostering true understanding, actually create more confusion and division. When basic terms like "mother" or "woman" are deemed problematic, we're not just playing with words; we're eroding the very foundations of shared meaning and historical understanding.

It's a desperate scramble for relevance, a performative act of "wokeness" that prioritises esoteric linguistic gymnastics over clear communication. The result? A language that is becoming increasingly convoluted, sanitised, and utterly devoid of its inherent richness and nuance.

So, while Martine Croxall's quiet act of rebellion might seem small, it was a vital moment. It was a fleeting, glorious reminder that sometimes, the most profound statement you can make is simply to speak plainly, honestly, and without fear of offending the numpties who are so diligently, and pathetically, trying to rewrite our dictionaries, one nonsensical "x" at a time.

Long live "women." And long live common sense.

P.S. What will she dare to say next? "Human beings"? "Men"? The mind boggles at the possibilities. Stay tuned, folks, because the English language, it seems, is far from settled for the numpties.