As Native as a 'Meeting': The Use of Foreign Words in Professional Life

We say “meeting” instead of “toplantı”, “feedback” instead of “geri bildirim”, and sometimes we don’t even bother with “sunum”—it must be “presentation”. Without realizing it, one morning we wake up speaking Turkish and immediately begin the day in English. But is this merely a matter of word preference, or is it a form of alienation from our language—and even our identity?

Language is not merely a tool of communication; it is also the carrier of culture. Every change in language affects the way we think, our sense of belonging, and our social identity. The English terms frequently used in professional settings—are they simply practical solutions, or are they shadows that push our mother tongue into the background?

Today, expressions like “update etmek”, “mail atmak”, and “schedule’a bakmak” have become standard in daily office language. But these words carry with them not just another language, but another way of thinking.

Foreign words do not merely visit Turkish—they gradually become its hosts. This leads to the forgetting of certain concepts in Turkish, and even to the failure of some concepts to emerge at all. “Brief almak” feels natural, but saying “kısa bilgilendirme” feels awkward. Yet this discomfort does not lie in the words themselves—it begins in our minds.

• Our richness in self-expression
• The depth of our thought production
• Our cultural ties and linguistic uniqueness

When words disappear, so do the emotions, associations, and worlds of meaning they carried.

Words are identity. Those who lose their language reshape their mode of thinking into another mold. The terms we use in the workplace shape our corporate culture—and transform us. Therefore, abandoning our mother tongue merely in the name of being “more global” may, in the long run, distance us from ourselves.

• If English terms must be used, at least pair them with their Turkish equivalents.
• Prioritize Turkish in corporate correspondence and presentations.
• Trust in and develop the expressive potential of our own language.

Perhaps the first question we should ask is this: Why do we say “meeting”? Do we truly need the capabilities of another language, or have we simply begun to forget the value of our own?

Linguistic alienation is a quiet but profound loss of identity. And the path to halting this loss sometimes begins with the simplest choice: Next time, say toplantı instead of “meeting”.

Let us not forget: For good “communication”, we first need strong “iletişim”.