I was listening to a British current events podcast in the car. The hosts were talking about U.S.-China relations and one said that he didn’t know if the U.S. was being “manichean.” What did that mean? Did I mishear? A few minutes later, he said it again - “manichean.” Weird. Was that a word I should know? Despite being in operation of a motor vehicle and against my better judgment, I whipped out my phone to look it up
Merriam Webster said that “manichean” means:
1 : a believer in a syncretistic religious dualism (see DUALISM sense 3) originating in Persia in the third century a.d. and teaching the release of the spirit from matter through asceticism
2 : a believer in religious or philosophical dualism.
The definition left me no less confused. And I’m willing to bet that I’m not the only listener who wasn’t familiar with the word.
Clearly the host had a message he was trying to convey. But in choosing to use such an obscure word, he rendered his communication less effective. It’s a great example of how flowery or technical language can actually be a barrier to understanding.
There is a tendency to associate fanciful language with good communication. For one, it enhances the credibility of the speaker because vocabulary is thought to indicate intelligence. But this can be unfounded. Vocabulary is more an indicator of one’s formative environment (e.g., vocabularies of parents, whether reading was a hobby, quality of school language arts curriculum) and field of study/vocation (e.g., those who focus on humanities read and write more than those who go into STEM) than of intellect. Vocabulary can also be the result of effort. Language can be learned, so a person that makes a concerted attempt to expand their lexicon probably will. One can be smart and not have an extensive vocabulary or can be intelligent, but choose to use simple words.
Second, there is the idea that communication is enhanced when the most fitting words are selected. But, often the most fitting words are esoteric or jargon. So, it depends on the audience. If you are talking to a group of environmental engineers, stating that heating is adiabatic may be very clear. But to laypeople, it would be better to say that the heating was caused by compression and sinking of air, resulting in an increase in collisions between molecules. But if the audience is not known or is not of a specific group, fanciful diction carries the risk that it will be lost on a portion of the audience members.
Simple language is less likely to be unfamiliar to listeners or readers and, thus, maximizes the potential number of recipients of a message. Afterall, there is a reason that trial lawyers, when composing opening and closing statements, try to use plain English. The jury is randomly drawn from the public and theoretically represents a cross-section of the population. The attorneys must assume that the members of the jury possess an average education level and the vocabulary that comes with it. If they want to persuade the jury, the jury must understand the arguments. And a good way to ensure comprehension is to use words that the jurors are likely to comprehend.
Swapping out obscure words for simple ones is a good habit to get into, especially when communicating to a wide audience. The switch to simple language can be a hard pill to swallow. Years of educators encouraging us to expand our vocabularies and praising us for using “advanced” words leads us to rely on multi-syllabic words to prove ourselves authorities. We may fear coming off as unscholarly. But, if the thesis is strong, it does not need to hide behind a cloak of purple prose. It will hold its own. And plain language maximizes the reach of the message.
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