Why can’t we just speak plainly?<\/p>\n
\nThe evils of jargon have been in the news recently, when local governments were taken to task for excessive use of management-speak in their literature. Coincidentally, the topic has also reared up in several vitriolic comment threads in the scientific blogosphere. One irate reader – apparently not a scientist himself – even went as far as to accuse scientists of purposefully using jargon in their everyday professional lives to muddy the waters around their research and to keep ordinary people in ignorance (of, presumably, their shifty, nefarious intentions as much as their actual data).<\/p>\n
\nWhile I would be the first person to expound passionately on the importance of scientists learning how to explain their research to the public in ordinary language, I am absolutely bewildered – and a little angered – at the suggestion that jargon amongst scientists is merely a vehicle for underhanded obfuscation and not, as I always assumed, a useful tool at the heart of peer-to-peer communication in science. Jargon has a bad reputation, true, but what is it, really? Yes, it’s a complicated word or phrase that requires training to understand, but it also – more significantly – offers those in the know a substantial shortcut for communication in exquisitely precise terms. <\/p>\n
\nPonder, if you will, the following phrase of pretty standard and relatively lucid cell biological jargon:<\/p>\n
We used immunofluorescence analysis to assess the phosphorylation status of JNK and ERK, and concluded that these two effectors are downstream of Ras signalling and involved in damage-induced apoptosis.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nYes, it sounds a bit scary if you don’t know anything about cell biology, and I’m sure your average person on the street couldn’t follow it. But they’re not the intended audience, and the complexity is not just cosmetic. Just imagine if we were expected to stand in front of an audience of fellow researchers in the field and convey the equivalent information in normal speech:<\/p>\n
We used a test where we probed for the presence of a small chemical decoration on the side of a protein, which is a fancy name for one of the building blocks that helps make our cells work properly. The decoration, or phosphate group, on this protein building block we’re studying is a thing that helps convey energy, so when you put it on or take it off, you can influence whether a protein is “on” or “off” and therefore able to act as a sort of cellular message-boy, telling other parts of the cell what to do. So anyway, this test involved using special proteins called antibodies, which happen to be key weapons deployed by our immune systems to fight off germs, but in this case we are using them because they can home in on any other protein we want and stick to it. The antibodies are invisible, so we have to stick a fluorescent decoration on it so we can see if the target protein is there or not. …<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nAre you as tired as I am yet? And that’s only conveyed, quite vaguely and not very usefully, the first eight words of the sentence. And in fact I didn’t do a very good job even at that; each noun in my sentence could probably launch an entire chapter in an undergraduate science textbook – assuming you did biology in high school as a firm grounding. Which is a pretty big assumption these days.<\/p>\n
\nFar from fettering science – and other diverse professions ranging from law and medicine to women’s studies and history – and probably more prosaic professions like plumbing (“Bob, could you pass me that longish metal tool with the ring-like structures on both ends, each of which is canted up at opposing seventy-degree angles?”) – jargon frees us gloriously from vague and roundabout descriptions whose meaning could easily be misunderstood – that is, if we didn’t fall asleep before the end of the explanation. I’ve sat through a few scholarly meetings in the humanities, and even though I don’t understand half of what these academics are saying, when someone says “post-humanism” and the rest of the room nods earnestly, I don’t think they’re being pretentious and showing off; no, I accept that I am witnessing first-hand the transmission of an extremely complicated concept on which entire theses have been written – all in five syllables. Jargon allows us to say exactly what we want to say in a few words as possible, so we can spend most of our time discussing the implications of our research – or better yet, doing more of it.
\nJargon sets us free.<\/p>\n\nWhy can’t we just speak plainly? Because, amongst ourselves, it would be a disaster. So next time you hear someone complaining about the evils of jargon, remember what a little life-saver it actually is.<\/p>\n
\nNow if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to dash off and co-IP my RIPA lysates – ta ra<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Why can’t we just speak plainly? The evils of jargon have been in the news recently, when local governments were taken to task for excessive use of management-speak in their literature. Coincidentally, the topic has also reared up in several … Continue reading