Keep it simple

Joanna Mikulski
Common Collective
Published in
3 min readJan 29, 2020

Jargon is not only confusing, it’s also disempowering. Guest blogger Joanna Mikulski explains the virtues of using clear, simple language

YEARS ago, during my first weeks in government, I went to a meeting where representatives from several US government agencies discussed how they could better serve young people. Or at least that’s what I’d been told before going. I understood barely a third of what was said. The meeting was in a language I didn’t (yet) understand: a mix of jargon, some specific to government and some to the group itself.

If you’ve ever joined a new organisation or group, you’ve probably had a similar experience. You may have felt as I did that day: baffled and somewhat powerless. I could have stopped the meeting to ask the others to define ‘samsa’, ‘research-based youth intervention’ and other terms I didn’t understand. But I was the newest and youngest person in the room, and I didn’t know how it would be received. I didn’t want to reveal that I didn’t know things others thought I should. So I stayed quiet.

As someone who now helps people and organisations tell their stories, I’ve often told this anecdote to show how jargon can exclude. Most of the time, the exclusion is unintentional. Every community develops its own internal language. This isn’t entirely bad: a common code can help us bond and let others know that we’re on their side.

But if we’re not careful, this can go too far. As we become experts, we can become victims of the ‘curse of knowledge’ — so familiar with technical terms and ideas that we don’t realise we’re using language unfamiliar to non-experts.

In the worst cases, those in power and in the know use jargon to protect their position, choosing technical and opaque terms over clear, simple language to hide their true intent and prevent those without full understanding from challenging them.

My story from my first days in government ends well. When I found the courage to ask, my new colleagues were happy to explain that ‘samsa’ was in fact ‘SAMHSA’, or the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. And I spent several years working with many in that room to define what the group meant by ‘research-based youth intervention’. But I’ve also found that insisting that people define what they mean isn’t always well-received.

Over the past few years, I’ve heard many leaders of social, philanthropic and development organisations assert that they want to ‘shift power’. Activists in the global health community, for example, want those closest to a problem to have more of a say over how decisions about funding, policies and services are made. As they put it, they want to make the field more equal by ‘decolonising’ it.

That’s exactly right. But power won’t shift unless the people who now have it use clear language that allows those without it to understand the issues and challenge established ways of doing business.

So if you’re in a position of power or part of a community that wants to expand its ranks, what can you do? Here are a couple of steps you could try:

1. Introduce a jargon-busting glossary of terms, similar to the one used at Common.

2. Encourage everyone — and especially those new to a group — to call out when a term or idea isn’t clear. Do this repeatedly, both in large groups and one-on-one. You might even go so far as to offer a prize to the best jargon-busters in the group — making clear that you’re serious about being clear.

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