By: Ezra Nadav

Sometimes I find myself deep in thought about the words and phrases we use—especially in statements meant to affirm, advocate, or express values. I often wonder:

Are we really saying what we mean?

And does what we’re saying reflect the complexity of the concepts we’re working with?

Language matters. Not just for clarity’s sake, but because it shapes what we believe, what we expect from one another, and how we build shared understanding. And sometimes, in our effort to be inclusive or comprehensive, we may unintentionally overreach or oversimplify.

Recently, I came across an image that read:

“Inclusion is a human right. Every person deserves to live openly, safely, and with dignity regardless of their sexual orientation, gender identity, or sex characteristics.”

It’s the kind of statement that gets widely shared—and for good reason. It aims to affirm the humanity of people who have often been excluded or mistreated. But as I sat with the words, I began to question their construction.

For one, inclusion is not actually a human right.

It’s not codified in international human rights law in the way concepts like dignity, non-discrimination, safety, or freedom of expression are. Inclusion is better understood as an aspiration—a vision of the kind of society we hope to create when we honour people’s rights and humanity.

That doesn’t make it unimportant. Quite the opposite—it makes it something we should pursue intentionally and relationally. But calling it a “right” may obscure the very work needed to bring it into being.

Second, while the phrase “deserves to live openly, safely, and with dignity” is powerful, I found myself drawn most to the final word: dignity.

Because when we talk about human worth, that’s the anchor. That’s the non-negotiable. And perhaps, for all the words we sometimes layer on, the essential message is simpler than we make it:

Every person deserves dignity.

That one sentence holds moral weight. It doesn’t need conditions or qualifiers. It applies to all people—always.

This line of reflection echoes perspectives shared by thinkers I respect across different disciplines:

• Robert Putnam, who describes inclusion as a civic virtue that must be cultivated through social trust and shared responsibility—not presumed or guaranteed.
• Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z”l), who grounded his ethics in the idea of human dignity as sacred and universal, cautioning against identity-based reductions that fragment our moral view.
• Jordan Peterson, who critiques vague or ideologically loaded language, urging precision and clarity when it comes to defining values and responsibilities.

Each of them, in their own way, invites us to think deeply about what we’re actually communicating—especially when the stakes are high.

For me, this has become a gentle reminder to speak with intention. To clarify rather than complicate. And to centre the values that actually hold us together.

So here’s what I’m sitting with today:

Inclusion is not a right—it’s a shared responsibility.

Dignity is a right—an inalienable one.

And perhaps, when we don’t know what else to say, we can return to what’s simplest and truest:

Every person deserves dignity.

Shalom Aleichem