You think jargon makes you neat? Science tells you sound insecure!

I’m fortunate to be able to say that I like my job. I write for a living, and although I work in a freelance style, I get to cover topics that I enjoy and that are (hopefully) entertaining. However, being a freelance writer has some downsides, and chief among them is the incessant use of useless jargon.

“Please add your BAUs to the RACI”

Here are some things that have recently been said to me, a poor, innocent writer:

• “Please add your BAUs to the RACI”
• “We actually need you to surface some info”
• “Just focus on the MVP”
• “Have you been read in on this project?”

In case you were wondering what these Hebrews are, BAU = Business As Usual and RACI stands for Responsible, Accountable, Consulted, Informed, although what that means in practice and how it works in the context of that particular sentence is something I haven’t figured out and still trying to.

My Google history knows how dumb I actually am!

Some back and forth revealed that ‘surfacing some info’ meant ‘adding it to the website’. I bet you thought MVP was Most Valuable Player right? Nope; Minimum Viable Product. Not that it makes much sense, in my opinion. The last one, I actually got, but ‘’told about’, in case you were wondering.

Using jargon isn’t big or clever

It turns out that my colleagues should probably be quite embarrassed. That’s because according to a 2020 study entitled Compensatory conspicuous communication: Low status increases jargon use, people who use a lot of jargon are actually super insecure about their position in the office hierarchy.

Go ahead, read it https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0749597820303666

So, what you’ve always thought about your pretentious colleague was probably right all along: they use all those big/unfamiliar words because they’re trying to sound smarter and more important than they actually are. And without them knowing, meaningless buzzwords are killing their credibility.

Why am I telling you this?

You may be wondering: after all, you’re not some suit. You’re a writer! You bought that sports car because it was a great deal, not to compensate for your conspicuous lack of achievement! Well, partly it’s because misery loves company — why should I bear the burden of this knowledge alone?

But mainly it’s because you, dear writer, are not immune from this.

Jargon is slowly escaping the workplace, carried by human hosts who stumble about infecting others. Even I have started talking about ‘actioning’ things when there’s a whole section about this in the company style guide that I literally wrote myself. This is how the apocalypse starts, people.

Clarity is a must in professional writing

Look, I get it. We all want to sound smart. And when you’re writing professionally, there’s this overwhelming urge to prove you know what you’re talking about. All writers want to be read, but we also want to be respected, to be viewed as an authority on our topic, to be expected for more.

And that’s where the temptation to use jargon creeps in.

Just a little bit.

Just to prove you really know what you’re talking about.

Sure, your readers could look up all the acronyms, but do you want them to leave the page? The moment they click away from your article to look up what “synergizing a scalable initiative” means (spoiler alert: nothing), you’ve lost them. They’re probably doom-scrolling on TikTok already.

Plus, jargon is, by definition, exclusionary.

Finally, thanks to the sacrifice of our scientist friends, who spent countless hours studying mind-numbing corporate speak, we now know that excessive use of jargon basically screams “I am insecure about my lack of expertise!” And that, to quote the youth, is just not a vibe you’d want.

What’s the takeaway?

Your readers aren’t idiots — they’re just busy people who’d rather not have to decode your work.

So, here’s my actually useful advice: know your audience. If you’re writing for rocket scientists about rocket science, then yes, use all the rocket science lingo your heart desires. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. But if not? Take a second before you hit publish and ask yourself this key question:

“Would my slightly drunk friend down the pub understand what I’m trying to say?”

If the answer is no, reconsider that paragraph full of “leverage” and “paradigm shifts.” Remember: clear and concise writing isn’t dumbed-down writing — it’s writing that respects your readers’ time and actually invites them to join the conversation. And that’s something we aspire to…leverage.

I’m sorry, I’ll see myself out.