Site icon Kyle A. Massa

For the Love of the Gut

Gut.

It’s a word that’s existed for centuries, though nowadays it’s become more popular than ever (or maybe I’m just noticing it more). My question is this: Why?

It’s not like “gut” is a descriptive term. It’s unpleasant to hear—and to say, for that matter. Try saying it. “Gut.” It’s so guttural.

Furthermore, this word always gives me the same visual: Someone’s soft, flabby stomach getting slapped and/or punched. “Slugged in the gut.” That’s what comes to mind.

Despite its shortcomings, I hear this term everywhere, especially in the fields of sports, nutrition, and dating. “Gut check.” “Great for your gut health.” “Do you have a fire in your gut?”

That last question was recently posed by Arizona Cardinals head coach Jonathan Gannon. He was addressing a roomful of NFL players, and his speech was meant to be a motivational rallying cry and/or a practical joke. Either way, millions of internet pundits found it hilarious, including me, partly because of Gannon’s gratuitous invocation of the “gut.”

It only gets worse in health contexts. “Gut health” has become a catchall term for the stomach, or maybe the gastrointestinal system, or maybe, I dunno, the gallbladder. I’m uncertain because so-called “health experts” on Instagram insist on using the word in all their content, though they never define it. It’s like a contractor pointing at your roof and saying, “Your house has a leaky hat.” There’s no faster way to kill your credibility.

Aside from sports and health, the place I hear “gut” most often is on the Bachelor franchise, which is the most damming evidence one can present. Contestants on the show constantly refer to their gut as if it’s a personal confidant, e.g. “At the end of the day, I had to go with my gut.”

This conjures an image of the gut as a wise counselor, some shriveled, pink, slimy mass of tissue in your abdomen that holds a notepad and wears glasses. When you present a moral quandary to your gut such as, “Should I trust Chad even though he has toxic masculinity issues?”, your gut replies with a sagely, “No, but the producers will appreciate it if you keep him around a few more weeks.”

In this context, the gut is like one’s own personal Yoda, only it can’t use the Force and its home address lies somewhere between your pancreas and spleen.

Or not. And this is my issue with the term to begin with. Its meanings are so varied it has no meaning.

According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, for instance, the noun “gut” has five different definitions, from “entrails that have been removed or exposed in violence or by a butcher” to “a narrow passage or strait.” It’s also applicable as a verb, or as a component of common phrases such as “hat[ing] someone’s guts.”

Is it possible to hate the guts of the word “gut”? Because I’m getting there.

I believe the primary application of the word should be comedic, and more specifically, ironic. For example, if you were to say, “I went with my gut and gave myself a gut check because there’s a fire in my gut, and I should probably go to the hospital to get it checked out,” then I salute you. Otherwise, I think it’s overused.

So next time you’re tempted to use the G-word, heed my warning. It might just change your life.


Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

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