OF BUZZWORDS, JARGON, SLANG ...

These days, there’s lots of press about the use (or mis-use) of words.  Journalists and writers complain.  Business people urge all to be conversational and precise.  Teachers, of course, have a field day.

Every day, slang takes over our talk and thinking.  Just think of a few:  Deep dive, end user, leverage, low-hanging fruit, synergy.  “It’s the deck that touches base with our aspirations, and further expands our bandwidth.”

Yeah, we could go on and on.

But we’ll spare you.   Psychologists galore have examined corporate and techno speak, concluding that it’s a:

  • ·       Shorthand to communicate more quick and efficiently
  • ·       Way of indicating you’re a member of a certain club or
  • ·       Need to sound important.

Even better, some good Ph.D. doctors at NYU analyzed the use of abstract language, revealing that its use leads listeners to believe the speaker is lying – more often than if concrete words were spoken.

Bottom line, jargon is muddy and meaningless.  It creates a language barrier in cultures that, quite frankly, don’t need any more.

Complaining, though, won’t get us anywhere. 

Our solution?  Let’s get well-known public figures and CEOs to start talking and writing with clarity; after all, many of us act as their ghostwriters.  Start a campaign with role models everyone respects – perhaps a Jimmy Carter or Tim Cook or (you fill in the blank).  Headline it with quotes from Richard Branson (among others):   “It is far better to use a simple term and commonplace words that everyone will understand, rather than showing off and annoying your audience.”

Hey, we can dream, can’t we?

WORDS THAT STICK

Change is our middle name.

Yet, because we began our careers as writers and journalists, words are near and dear to us.  So, from time to time, we wear our linguistic hats and probe into the nature of language.  Which, sorta, kinda, is part of change.

Lately, fellow wordsmiths (or smithies, we suppose) have wrestled with the notion of permanence, that is, which of the new lingos heard and invented will last more than Andy Warhol’s 15 seconds.  Twerking, selfie, catfish, lean in:  All have precedents and other meanings attached.  Twerking, it’s said, was a Nawlins’ figure of speech two decades ago; selfie belongs to our compatriots Down Under (and even earlier, if you believe the Princess Anastasia myth).  Mash-ups and phrases, like cronut and Boston strong, seem to have more legs than others.

What makes for word permanence?  More professorial minds than ours cite five factors, from frequency and diversity to unobtrusiveness.   Others say it takes 40 years for slang to become embedded into our dictionaries.   To avoid theorizing, the venerable American Dialect Society (yes, Virginia, there is one) votes on its Word of the Year every January; believe it or not, 2013 was the year of “because” … as in “because nachos.  Because politics.  Because science.” 

No comment.

Instead, we see two factors that count for language stick-to-it-tiveness.  One, a word that’s inextricably linked to a physical object or unforgettable event.  Think “drone” and “9/11.”  And two, an appendix that can transform any plain-Jane ordinary adjective or noun into something new and different.  After all, consider what adding “nado” and “gate” does to shark and water … among others.

Why the concern with lastingness?   Because change.  It’s what we do.