America is a country, not a continent

Latin Americans do not get to correct us in our own language.

(Note: I’ve had a busy week, and don’t have time to do justice to the many recent events deserving commentary, from Trump’s State of the Union to his infuriating spat with Zelensky. But I want to stick to this year’s habit of once-weekly posts, so you’ll have to settle for a silly rant I found in my drafts folder. I’ll try to weigh in on a weightier subject next week.

If you are Latin American and annoyed by the timing or content of this article, at least we can both agree: America is definitely not a Gulf.)

One pet peeve of mine is being “corrected” by people who are wrong. Or, “educated” by people who confuse their subjective preferences for facts of which I am ignorant. The name of my own nationality is one of these cases.

Many Latin Americans take issue with people from the United States of America referring to themselves as “American,” and their country as “America.” They claim America is not a country, but a single continent, encompassing all of what we would call “the Americas.” And they object that using “American” in singular reference to inhabitants of the United States omits and erases the identity of “Americans” from other countries. “We are Americans too,” they insist.

Some even consider it a form of imperialism, in line with our government’s long and sordid history of subjugating Latin America. They imagine that this history gives them a moral high ground, and frame our alleged appropriation of “America” as proof of continued U.S. arrogance. U.S. natives who travel in Latin America will quickly share my experience of being admonished by the locals (or by graffiti, or a bumper sticker at the hostel check-in, etc.) for introducing oneself as “American.”

These critics are geographically irrational and grammatically incorrect, at least when speaking in English. To most of the world, America is not one continent, but two; “American” is the correct and practical demonym for residents of the USA; and the word America is much more common and useful in English as an abbreviation for the country than it is for the combination of continents, so it’s best to keep using it this way.

How many continents are there?

Continents are admittedly subjective. They are defined only by convention, and convention differs from place to place. Some places say there are only five continents, others say six, while most say seven (including Antarctica; or, six without it). For example, China and the United Kingdom define Europe and Asia as separate continents, whereas Russia merges them into one: Eurasia.

Yet all three of those nations teach that North and South America are separate continents. In fact, so does the entire world outside of romance-language nations, including all nations with English as their first language.

There is no objective way to prove these nations are right, because again, continents are just made-up lines we draw on a map. But geographically speaking, there is an obvious and intuitive physical distinction between large landmasses at the Isthmus of Panama, which also happens to align almost perfectly with underlying plate tectonics. Most of the world thinks it's weird to ignore that distinction! This isthmus is only one-half as wide as the Isthmus of Suez, for example, which we all recognize as narrow enough to distinguish Africa from Asia.

To the English-speaking world, therefore, America is not a continent at all. "The Americas" refers to a combination of two continents, sort of like Eurasia.

It's one thing for Latin Americans to teach the continents differently. It's another for them to go around correcting us in our own language, as if we were ignorant and they were informed. The former is a cultural idiosyncrasy; the latter is obnoxiously whiny and ethnocentric. It’s the equivalent of me trying to correct a British person for calling the bathroom a “loo”: not really correcting anything, so much as revealing that the corrector misunderstands cultural subtleties.

The same goes for America the country, and American the demonym. Only one nation in the Americas also has the word America as part of its national title. Therefore, only one of these nations uses American as its demonym and America as shorthand for the country itself.

That this nation is also the most powerful in the Americas may have accelerated the adoption of this shorthand overseas—but it did not cause it! As early as 1797, long before the United States became a world power, John Adams described his country as “America” in his inaugural address. This usage is practical, ubiquitous, historically rooted, grammatically correct, universally understood, and almost certain to continue indefinitely, so I encourage our Latin American friends to get used to it.

Translation issues and fake confusion

I do appreciate that language differences can make this confusing. In Spanish, the United States translates to “los Estados Unidos,” and people from the United States are called “Estadounidense”. This would literally translate to “United Statesian,” if United Statesian were an English word.

But United Statesian is not an English word—at least, not one that is actually used. What estadounidense actually translates to is “American.” That is the proper and universal English demonym for somebody from the United States of America.

People who live in the United States are called Americans, and people who call themselves Americans while speaking English are immediately understood to be from the United States. No one outside Latin America would confuse the national origin of someone introducing themselves as such.

And honestly, even Latin Americans only pretend to be confused, for an excuse to grumble about gringo pomposity they already wanted to grumble about. They hear us called Americans in English music, movies, TV, podcasts, news articles, and social media all the time. Those who feign confusion do so only to make a point—which means their point is not very good. There is no actual misunderstanding in need of correction.

In a highly technical sense, American is also the grammatically correct demonym for somebody from “the Americas.” That usage is uncommon, though, because it is not useful. It’s like a Frenchman introducing herself as “Eurasian”: technically accurate, but completely unhelpful at conveying one’s identity with any specificity. To use “American” in the sense these Latin American critics insist upon would render it a completely impractical word. It would introduce a hundred times more confusion than it would alleviate.

On hemispheric identity

I also recognize that words have symbolic power, and that language changes all the time to be more inclusive or respectful. But most of these changes are organic, rather than forced. Changing billions of people’s mental associations with words is difficult, and should only be undertaken for excellent reason. In this case, there’s excellent reason NOT to do it, because it is much more common and necessary to specify one’s national identity than to specify one’s hemispheric identity.

I suspect this question of identity is the core of the dispute, and why some Latin Americans get heated about it.

Due to their (mostly) shared language and shared history of colonial subjugation, many Latin Americans feel attached to a sense of hemispheric identity that few outside Latin America appreciate. While our founding mythology in the United States revolves around the Constitution and Declaration of Independence, theirs often revolves around figures like Simon Bolivar and resistance to white imperialism at every turn. This history lends itself to a notion that the fates of Mexicans and Argentinians are innately linked; that they are one people, with similar histories, and therefore similar destinies who must work together to advance their mutual interests.

I get that! I respect the sentiment and appreciate why people in those nations might prefer to imagine themselves as one big happy family. And because continental boundaries are subjective, Latin Americans are free to teach the five-continent model in their schools. they are free use “americanos” in reference to everyone in the Americas. If I were speaking Spanish, I wouldn’t dare “correct” them.

The trouble is, most Americans don’t share that sentiment. Not even those who favor open borders. And it doesn’t change the geographic intuition, so it’s not an argument the rest of the world will ever find compelling.

To the upper third of the Western hemisphere, a shared hemispheric identity is a figment of the Latin American imagination, constructed around us without our input. The next level of identity above the national to which I feel any remote sense of loyalty or belonging is the global: a kinship with all humanity, no stronger in Chile than it is in Cambodia.

And isn’t that better? Isn’t that more ethical and egalitarian, to feel the same affinity for all foreign countries? To insist on an archaic usage of America as a hemisphere rather than a nation is simultaneously too broad for all practical purposes and too narrow for all moral purposes.

In closing: geography, practicality, brevity, English grammar, and a sincere expression of genuine community each independently support the idea that America refers more to a country than a continent. If we’re speaking Spanish, I’ll follow the lead of native Spanish speakers. But if we’re speaking English, it's courteous not to correct people unless they are actually wrong. Referencing my country as it has been referenced for 200+ years is not only correct, but more effective communication than any foreseeable alternative.