Avoid the genteelism spiral

It starts innocently enough. Without thinking, you delete “in” and write “within” instead.

Ah, you think: that’s better.

Then out goes “use” and in comes “utilise”.

The genteelism spiral has begun.

Now you can’t say “help”, it has to be “assist” or better, “facilitate”.

And you can’t say “do” anymore, but rather “implement”.

And then it’s “optimal” for good, “superior” for better, “obtain” for get, and “significant” for not bad.

I think it was the English lexicographer, Henry Watson Fowler, who first called out the use of genteelisms in 1926 in his Dictionary of Modern English Usage. He said they were:

“the substituting, for the ordinary natural word that first suggests itself to the mind, of a synonym that is thought to be less soiled by the lips of the common herd, less familiar, less plebeian, less vulgar, less improper”.

We gravitate to genteelisms because they make our prose seem grander and more important, even though “within” represents no improvement at all in meaning to “in”, and “utilise” means exactly what “use” means.

Using ordinary, natural words can leave you feeling naked and exposed, but you should resist the genteelism spiral for two reasons.

First, for the reader, each of these “improvements” is a little puff of fog that obscures meaning. It takes slightly longer for the reader to decipher the word because of the extra letters, and the reader isn’t rewarded for the effort by any extra meaning.

Second, it’s distracting, because it diverts the reader’s attention away from what you’re saying and onto how you’re saying it.

Avoiding the genteelism spiral is a good habit to cultivate because it forces you to develop the idea you’re trying to express. It makes you declare the substance instead of hiding behind style.

In business and organisational life, we write for reasons: to inform, persuade or ask for help. Writing works better when it has meaning and power, and genteelisms sap prose of meaning and power.

See also:

On weasle verbs

Buzzwords, ticks and clichés: Why you should shun them for effective writing