Our culture has recently dipped into a new low when it comes to the context of our words. One could blame Twitter or the general dumbing down of literature or reality TV, but the sad implication of our times is that society has largely grown intellectually lazy. This is hugely important to understand, because, like it or not we still communicate predominantly with words. Emoji simply cannot express the full range of our experience, and even if they could, eventually it would be clear that they are still just avatars for words or expressions and our verbal language still matters.

But why does terminology matter so much?

Let us examine one word so often used to describe the cancer patient who is living beyond his or her treatment and consider why it is so insidious: survivor.

What is a survivor, if not someone who was expected to not survive? When a plane crashes, for instance in the Andean mountains, miles from help, anyone who lives through that experience would rightfully be considered a survivor. But when a plane has a bumpy landing on the runway, the living people who get off at the terminal are just referred to as passengers. Why is this such a critical distinction? Because we don’t automatically expect people to die during a bumpy landing.

Referring to someone as a survivor implies, whether intentionally or not, that the person should be dead. Yet virtually all discussions of people who have successfully lived through cancer treatment refer to such individuals as survivors. The medical establishment consistently refers to “cancer survival rates” and books are published on how to “survive cancer.” There are meetings of Cancer Survivor support groups all over the nation. Survival is big business, propagated by countless alternative clinics and purveyors of “natural remedies” and authors and would-be magicians of all stripes. Survival sells, which is one significant reason the term remains so heavily in use. Of course, everyone wants the cancer patient to survive. Doctors and nurses and aunts and uncles and your best pal from elementary school are all aligned with this notion.

But treating cancer is not about survival. Treating cancer is about living.

Until we can change the terminology that reflects our situation, it is difficult to change the narrative on how cancer is perceived and approached. Yes, unchecked and untreated, cancer does kill. It is hardly alone in that function. Millions of types of viruses and bacteria and diseases will do just as well, probably more efficiently, and yet when someone simply “takes care of it” to get better, whether through medication or diet or some other proven therapy, we collectively nod and think they are doing the right thing to keep going, to keep living, and that is as it should be.

Automobile accidents remain one of the top causes of human death in the United States, but if we all started worrying about surviving the drive to work or school it would have wide repercussions on mental health. Virtually everyone knows someone who died as a result of a car crash. We may also know survivors of car crashes, though no one refers to the victims of minor fender benders with that word.

It is all about the context. And for cancer patients, the context should be about living. Don’t call them survivors. They are alive because they make smart decisions and use the tools they have and, most importantly, because they should be.