Let's start with some good news: the vast majority of language mistakes in workplaces aren't malicious. They're habitual. They're the linguistic equivalent of putting the empty milk carton back in the fridge — nobody's trying to cause harm, it's just something that got baked in a long time ago and nobody's noticed.
The less good news: that doesn't make them harmless. Careless language chips away at belonging, signals who the workplace was really designed for, and — in some cases — exposes organisations to genuine legal and reputational risk.
The genuinely good news: most of these fixes take about three seconds.
01
“Hey guys” — as a universal greeting for everyone
It's breezy. It's casual. It has launched approximately four billion team meetings. It also signals, to anyone who isn't a man, that the default person in this room is male. The phrase has been around long enough that people argue it's “gender neutral now” — which is a bit like arguing that “mankind” is fine because technically it contains the word “man.” Helpful.
The fix
Try “everyone,” “team,” “folks,” or — if you want energy — “alright, people.” All of these are genuinely neutral, require zero extra syllables, and will not cause anyone to feel like a grammatical afterthought.
02
Describing an employee's disability as their defining characteristic
The sentence “our wheelchair-bound colleague” tells you one thing about that person and packages it as their entire identity. The chair doesn't bind anyone — it's a mobility aid. Similarly, “suffers from autism” frames a neurological difference as a perpetual crisis. These constructions are common, well-intentioned, and quietly dehumanising.
The fix
Person-first language puts the human before the descriptor: “a colleague who uses a wheelchair.” Identity-first language, preferred by many in communities like the Deaf or autistic community, centres the identity without framing it as a burden: “our autistic colleague.” When in doubt, follow the individual's lead — and ask, if you're unsure what they prefer.
03
Gendering roles (“female engineer,” “male nurse”)
Noting someone's gender when their gender has nothing to do with the role they're performing implies that the combination is unusual enough to warrant comment. It is the linguistic equivalent of a raised eyebrow. Workplaces do this constantly, and it reinforces exactly the occupational stereotypes they're often trying to dismantle.
The fix
Just say “engineer.” Just say “nurse.” If you need to specify a person's gender for a relevant reason, do so — but ask yourself whether the role needs the modifier at all. Usually, it doesn't.
04
Using “preferred pronouns” — rather than simply “pronouns”
The word “preferred” does a lot of accidental damage. It frames a person's pronouns as a stylistic choice — a flavour, like oat milk — rather than a basic aspect of how someone is correctly addressed. You don't have a “preferred” name. It's just your name. Same principle applies here. This is one of those mistakes that actually increases with awareness — the more earnest the effort, the more “preferred” tends to appear.
The fix
“Pronouns.” That's the whole fix. “What are your pronouns?” “Please share your pronouns.” Clean, respectful, and doesn't imply the information is optional.
05
Blacklist / whitelist — and other colour-coded value judgements
These terms are deeply embedded in technical and workplace language, and yes — most people use them without thinking about the racial connotations of associating “black” with prohibition and “white” with approval. “That's not intentional,” goes the common response, and that's fair. Intent matters. But so does impact. And the good news here is that the alternatives are more precise, not less.
The fix
“Allowlist” and “blocklist” or “denylist” are technically cleaner and increasingly standard across the tech industry. “Approved” and “restricted” work well in non-technical contexts. You get the same meaning, minus the loaded baggage. Everybody wins.
06
Asking someone where they're “really” from
This one usually comes from genuine curiosity and ends with someone — often a person who was born in the same city as their interlocutor — explaining their ethnicity to a near-stranger before they've even had a coffee. “Where are you really from?” carries an implicit message: you don't quite look like you belong here. In a workplace context, that's a problem before 9am.
The fix
If cultural background comes up naturally in conversation and someone wants to share it, they will. If you're genuinely curious about a colleague, build a relationship first. People share what they're comfortable sharing, when they're comfortable sharing it. Curiosity is fine; interrogation is not.
07
“Turning a blind eye” and other idioms with unexamined histories
Idiomatic language is a minefield, mostly because we stop hearing what it literally means. Common workplace expressions like “turning a blind eye,” “tone deaf,” “fall on deaf ears,” “crazy busy,” and “lame excuse” all reference disability in ways that are either pejorative or use impairment as a metaphor for failure. They've become invisible through repetition — but they're still there.
The fix
Most of these have straightforward alternatives: “ignore,” “out of touch,” “unresponsive,” “extremely busy,” “weak excuse.” The replacements are often more precise anyway. Clarity is a feature, not a consolation prize.
08
Complimenting people for being “articulate” — in a way that reveals your assumptions
Telling someone from a marginalised group that they're “so articulate” or “surprisingly well-spoken” is what's known as a backhanded compliment — or, more precisely, a microaggression. It lands as a compliment only if you believe the baseline expectation was lower. The subtext tends to be audible to the person receiving it, even when the speaker is entirely unaware of it. This one requires a little more self-examination than the others.
The fix
Compliment the substance, not the fact of competent communication. “That was a really clear explanation” or “your argument was compelling” focuses on what was actually said — which is usually what you meant to praise in the first place.
09
Using “manned,” “manpower,” and “man hours”
There is no logical reason for the word “man” to appear in a project resource report, and yet here we are. These terms have been the default for so long that they feel invisible — but they reinforce, again and again, the idea that the worker in question is assumed to be male. For any organisation serious about gender equity, this is low-hanging fruit. Unreachable low-hanging fruit, apparently, given how rarely it gets picked.
The fix
“Staffed,” “workforce,” “labour hours,” “person hours,” “crew.” These have existed for a long time. They are readily available. Consider this your formal introduction.
10
Assuming “culture fit” is neutral
This one's less a single phrase and more a category of language — the words used to describe what a “good” candidate or employee looks like, often without examining what that picture actually depicts. “Culture fit” frequently functions as shorthand for “similar to the people already here,” which, in most organisations, has a demographic profile attached to it. It's one of the most common ways bias enters workplaces through language, because it sounds like a value when it's often a filter.
The fix
Replace “culture fit” with “values alignment” — and then be specific about which values you mean. What behaviours matter? What ways of working? Getting granular forces clarity and removes the wiggle room that bias tends to hide in. “Culture add” is another useful reframe: what does this person bring that expands what we're capable of?
Inclusive language isn't a list of words you're not allowed to say. It's a practice of paying attention — noticing where your defaults come from, and whether they're doing what you actually intend.
Most of the mistakes above aren't hard to fix. They just require someone to notice them first.
That's what Incluey is for.