Dogwhistles and Figleaves

I’ll admit: I approached *Dogwhistles and Figleaves* expecting dry linguistics, but within 20 minutes, I was paused mid-laundry, replaying a section about how ‘states’ rights’ became a figleaf for segregation. Saul’s brilliance lies in her surgical examples—she doesn’t just tell you dogwhistles exist; she replays the tape on Trump’s ‘very fine people’ remark or a Brexit campaigner’s ‘breaking point’ poster, forcing you to hear the subtext you’d normalized. The audiobook’s structure is smart, too: early chapters build a framework (philosophy nerds will geek out over her Gricean pragmatics breakdown), while later sections apply it to everything from climate denialism to transphobic ‘concern trolling.’ Staniforth’s performance elevates the material—her voice drops into a near-sneer when quoting disingenuous politicians, then shifts to weary exasperation during Saul’s *‘come on, we all know what they mean’* asides. It’s a narratorial choice that risks feeling heavy-handed, but here, it works because the text *demands* that tonal whiplash. My two critiques? First, the middle section on ‘implicature’ (how speakers imply without stating) drags slightly—necessary for the argument, but audio learners might zone out without a transcript to revisit. Second, Saul’s focus on Anglophone politics leaves me curious how these tactics play out in non-Western contexts (a gap she acknowledges but doesn’t explore). Still, the final chapter—where she turns the lens on *progressive* figleaves (e.g., ‘colorblind’ liberalism)—is worth the price alone. This isn’t a book that lets you nod along passively; it’s one that’ll have you side-eyeing every op-ed, tweet, and family group chat. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at ‘I’m not racist, but…’ or ‘I’m just asking questions,’ this audiobook will hand you the receipts—and the rage to match.