"Your wits are your only weapon here." Photo by Krista Kennedy, Flickr CC.
“Your wits are your only weapon in here.” Photo by Krista Kennedy, Flickr CC.

“What, precisely, does one use to slay jargon?” Dave asked.

“My wits!”

“That’s not… jargon-y.”

“Okay, I utilize the methodology inculcated by years of carefully calibrated pedagogical approaches…”

[seething annoyance] “Stop it.” [/seething annoyance]

Being a jargon-slayer essentially means being the “educated dummy.” I am the non-specialist who will read your piece and point out the words and concepts that are second nature to you (and to those in your specialized field), but mean nothing to me. Occasionally, I’ll point an accusatory finger at even those words I do know, because I want you to explain them to me. If you can use different words, why not? Again, if you’ve got a good reason, move on, nothing to see here. But, say, “utilize” vs. “use”? The difference is so subtle that, unless you can convince me that you need to show the way in which something or some concept has been specifically put into service as a tool, “use” will do just fine, thank you.

When you strip your work of jargon, you get two great benefits:

  1. A much more concise piece of writing in which the argument can truly shine. More people will learn from this paper and put its notions into action.
  2. The chance to thoughtfully use your jargon, calling out terms you’ve coined or using careful repetition to quietly underscore a point or even a through-line in your argument.

Jargon is too often a crutch (academic short-hand that jams entire concepts into a single word or phrase) or a shield (big words that deflect rebuttal by being obtuse and lending a false veneer of legitimacy—see also “turd polishing”). Strip it away. See what you’ve got. Stand behind that.