他 is composed of 亻 (the person radical, a leftward-leaning human figure) on the left, and 也 yě on the right. 也 functions as a phonetic component — it does not contribute meaning here, only sound. In classical prose, 也 appears constantly as a sentence-final particle marking identity or assertion ("X is Y"). Its pairing with 亻 produces a character that simply means: a person, acoustically anchored to 也's pronunciation.

In Classical Chinese, 他 covered all third-person reference regardless of gender, and could also refer to non-human things. The overlap between 他 and 它 (non-human) was fluid. Distinguishing gender in the third person was not a grammatical requirement — context and social knowledge carried that information. This was not an oversight. Classical Chinese had no structural need for the distinction.

In 1917, the poet and linguist 刘半农 Liú Bànnóng proposed a new character: 她. The motivation was translation. May Fourth intellectuals were rendering Western novels, plays, and philosophical texts into Chinese, and the European third-person pronouns — English "she/her," French "elle," German "sie" — had no equivalent. 他 served, but it concealed gender information that the source text carried. Liú coined 她 by replacing the 亻 radical of 他 with 女 (woman), keeping the same pronunciation. A visual substitution that encoded a semantic distinction the spoken language still could not make.

The character was controversial. Critics argued Chinese had managed without gendered third-person pronouns for centuries and did not need them. Supporters argued that accurate literary translation required it. By the 1930s, 她 had won. Its adoption is a direct trace of Western grammatical categories entering Chinese through the pressure of translation — one of the clearest visible marks the May Fourth Movement left on the script itself.

At the same time, 它 was stabilized as the pronoun for non-human referents (objects, animals). The result is a triad — 他/她/它 — that is completely homophonous in speech. All three are pronounced tā. The distinction exists only in writing, a feature unique among major world languages: grammatical gender encoded in the script but absent from phonology.

Before it crystallized as a personal pronoun, 他 carried a primary meaning of "other" or "another" — spatially, temporally, and socially. This sense survives intact in modern compounds. 他乡 (another land), 他日 (another day, meaning: some future time), 他人 (other people) all draw on this older layer. The pronoun use grew from this root: 他 named the other person, the not-self, the one who stands apart.

他 is a person (亻) pointing away from the self — the one who stands over there, at a distance. Every sense of the character pivots on that orientation: the third-person pronoun, the "other" of 他乡 and 他人, the "another" of 他日. Otherness is the structural core.

The invention of 她 makes this concrete. Liu Bannong's stroke of genius was to ask: what radical marks a person as other in a specific way? He took 他, stripped 亻, and replaced it with 女. Same sound, different radical, new social category encoded in ink. The fact that speech never absorbed the distinction — that all three tā sound identical — is the more interesting consequence. Chinese writing gained a gender system that Chinese speech refused to take on.