One of my longtime hobby horses on this blog has been the use of “Olympia” as a metonym, for reporters, politicians, and activists, when what they really mean is “the state legislature” or, more broadly, “state government.” I usually approach the issue from two angles.

First: this is my town. Keep our name out of your mouth. Almost no one uses “Olympia” in a flattering way (and I’ll get to that) but seriously, stop. I know you don’t literally mean us, but you’re still saying our name. I especially object when people shorten it to “Oly.” Please don’t.

Second: words really do matter. We should be intentional with them.

Like I said, this gripe has been with me a long time, but it’s been years since I wrote about it. In fact, this is the 10th anniversary of my last post on the subject. Maybe my attention waned. Maybe the use of “Olympia” as a metonym declined. But I’ll tell you what: this year it feels like it’s surged. Again, maybe it’s just me noticing it more, but I can’t go half a day without hearing “Olympia” blamed for some godawful statewide thing.

And sure, I’ve been guilty of writing about state government and the legislature more than usual on what’s supposed to be an Olympia-centric blog. I could argue that local journalism and the state flag are close to my heart, so it’s excusable. But really, the only excuse is: it’s my blog and I do what I want.

Language matters

The title of this blog is a nod to the Bush-era Democratic messaging handbook Don’t Think of an Elephant. It’s about the importance of language, how words shape thought and frame our understanding.

Since I last tackled this topic, I’ve changed. I’ve developed a regular mindfulness practice and read a lot more philosophy. One quote from Marcus Aurelius recently was the core idea that brought me back to this issue:

“Your mind will take the shape of what you frequently hold in thought, for the human spirit is colored by such impressions.”

When we constantly refer to state government simply as “Olympia,” we shape public perception into something vague, distant, and impersonal, just as Marcus warned. If the image we hold is a faceless force, we begin to believe that’s all government is. Words frame reality, and careless ones distort our sense of agency and accountability.

Using “Olympia” as a stand-in for the state government isn’t just lazy writing; it’s a framing choice that affects how we think about power. It turns government into something abstract and remote. When “Olympia” becomes the bad guy, we allow ourselves to see government as something that happens over there, not something we are connected to or responsible for.

But that’s not how government works. I hate to explain all of middle school civics to you, but only three of Washington’s 147 state legislators actually represent Olympia. The rest are elected from equally-sized districts all across the state. They are not from Olympia.

A special warning for leftist folks and other pro-democracy types: this kind of rhetorical distancing undermines the idea of collective responsibility. If “Olympia” is just a bunch of detached politicians, then it’s not our fault what they do.

For conservatives, it can reinforce long-held suspicions that government is an adversary. Either way, the result is the same: a less functional democracy. The decisions made in that supposedly faraway place are made by people we elected, and they affect all of us. So it’s worth staying connected.

How we can actually change this

Now, I’d be dishonest if I didn’t acknowledge the impact a place can have. Legislators do come to Olympia for months at a time, and it’s probably true that they’re shaped by the professional and social ecosystem that forms around them here. So yes, for a portion of the year, they’re part of Olympia. A little.

But that doesn’t have to be the case.

Recently, in the other Washington, there’s been a debate about proxy voting. A bipartisan push in the U.S. House sparked by a Republican congresswoman who experienced postpartum complications is seeking to allow new parents to designate a proxy for voting. This is a half step to full remote voting. The proposal gathered enough signatures to force a floor vote but was blocked by Speaker Mike Johnson and conservatives who saw it as unconstitutional and too reminiscent of pandemic-era practices.

Washington State actually operated as a mostly remote legislature longer than many others. We had full remote voting, and still do in some cases. And while reviews were mixed, some of the accessibility improvements for both lawmakers and testifiers have stuck around.

If you are a legislator voting remotely, you’re voting away from Olympia, in the community that represents. That can be a good thing.

All of this connects to a bigger question: can legislative bodies still represent the people effectively, given how much populations have grown? The U.S. House has been capped at 435 members for over a century, even as the population has more than tripled. That means each representative now serves far more people than originally intended, making real connection harder and weakening democracy.

The same is true in Washington State. Our legislature has been the same size since the 1960s, when the state had 2.8 million people. Now we’re over 8 million. We’ve almost tripled in population but not in representation.

We could double the size of the legislature. And if there isn’t enough room for everyone to work in Olympia, they could do what so many other state employees do: work remotely from their hometowns.

Tips for Journalists Covering Washington State Government: How to Use “Olympia” Thoughtfully

Do you need to write about the state legislature or state government? Otherwise compelled? Here are some tips.

1. Be specific whenever possible.

“Olympia” often obscures more than it reveals. Instead of Olympia passed a law, say the state legislature passed a law. Or better yet, House Democrats passed a bill or Governor Inslee signed the legislation. Precision helps your audience understand who actually did what.

2. Recognize the diversity within state government.

“Olympia” is not a single voice. It includes legislators, the governor, dozens of agencies, lobbyists, staffers, reporters, and more. One label can flatten the complexity of real debates and decision-making.

3. Don’t use “Olympia” as a scapegoat.

When something goes wrong, it’s easy to blame “Olympia.” But vague blame makes it harder for the public to know who’s responsible or who they should contact to make change.

4. Consider how the word lands.

To people outside the capital, “Olympia” may sound like an abstract bureaucracy. To people in Olympia, it’s home. Using the name as shorthand for dysfunction alienates a whole community.

5. Geography? Fine.

You can always cop out and say “in Olympia” rather than just “Olympia.” This would be “Democrats in Olympia” rather than “Olympia Democrats.”

Used with care, language connects people to their government.

Used lazily, it can push them away. “Olympia” might be convenient, but a functioning democracy deserves better than convenience.