“Use plain language.”
Please, all you politicians, educators, lawyers, bureaucrats, academics — use plain language. Use words to communicate clearly, not to cover your nether regions. Speak and write to be understood, not to impress.
In his 1946 essay Why I Write, British novelist and journalist George Orwell wrote this: “Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”
Whether or not the Highlands candidates needed Dolan’s counsel, they did not resort to political language. They explained clearly their platforms, their hopes and their love for the community.
And they used plain language. It was a breath of fresh air.
Granted, it’s just municipal politics, where people are more straightforward than at other political levels. And yet, I heard a candidate in another municipality use the word “operationalize.”
I don’t remember what else the candidate said, because “operationalize” kept clanging around in my head.
My point is this: The extensive utilization of multisyllabic terminology and obfuscatory phraseology, coupled with an overabundance of manufactured verbiage, runs counter to the goals and purposes of an effective communications methodology.
Got that?
As an experienced communications consultant and facilitator, Dolan has been subjected to more than his share of jargon and overblown language.
“Information is power,” he said, “but if the information you have is cloaked in jargon and terminology no one will understand, it’s useless.”
Sometimes people are trying to impress their audience with their command of the language or their deep technical knowledge. But it can backfire.
“If someone is talking in technical jargon or high-faluting language, they are not communicating very well,” said Dolan. “People think they’re trying to snow them, when they are not necessarily trying to do that at all.”
Language can be a minefield, and it’s not hard to step on one of those mines by using what sounds like the right word.
For example, an official in a B.C. ministry recently promised a “fulsome” review when he likely meant a comprehensive review. “Fulsome” has its origins in the word “full,” but it has come to mean offensively flattering or insincere.
Fulsome language is what happens when the intent is to impress, rather than communicate clearly. When Warren G. Harding became the U.S. president, literary critic H.L. Mencken described Harding’s inaugural speech:
“It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean-soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.”
Whatever their flaws, our local politicians are unlikely to make a speech so bad that it would merit that kind of response. What a pity.
Some language abuse is inadvertent and harmless. We snicker, we move on.
But some is deliberate double-speak, language that says one thing but means another, that tries to put a positive spin on negative things or tries to duck the real issue with convoluted language.
Let’s hope our officials, newly elected or re-elected, can resist the temptation to fluff up the language in their public communications. Just say what you mean, clearly and succinctly. Don’t try to use language to dodge blame or cover up.
I once heard a municipal councillor explain what happened to dogs after a certain time in the pound. “They get euphemized,” he said.
We’re all in danger of getting euphemized.
