Language decides who's boss

There are two uses for language, communication and miscommunication.

The communication part we recognize and it's what allows us to understand and co-operate as human beings.  But when professional and scientific disciplines develop their own words and acronyms, language may become grayer in meaning as illustrated in this delightful passage from Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorion Gray:

"What are you two talking about?" said Lord Henry, strolling over to the table and putting his cup down. "I hope Dorian has told you about my plan for rechristening everything, Gladys. It is a delightful idea. ... Names are everything. I never quarrel with actions. My one quarrel is with words."

"Then what should we call you, Harry?" she asked.

"His name is Prince Paradox," said Dorian.

Let's take a step back.  In principle, there is nothing wrong with professional language.  It allows for concise and precise communications between people in a given field.  And we generally prefer our physicians, for example, to be precise in their use of language.  There would surely be questions for any doctor who said, "Mrs. Jones, now don't you worry. We'll get that tummy fixed in no time."  Some of these may include: "Exactly what part is the 'tummy'?"  "How is it to be 'fixed'?"  And probably, "May I see your licence to practice medicine?" 

There are often times when the use of precise scientific language has its merit.  This holds true for acronyms that allow practitioners and professionals to speak about scientific concepts in short-hand.  It makes a lot of sense to call substances such as DNA and TNT by acronym rather than by the scientific nomenclature of deoxyribonucleic acid or 2,4,6-trinitrotoluene.

But what happens when scientific or perhaps even pseudo-scientific language limits access to meaning? An example often cited in this regard is the military's use of the term collateral damage instead of the linguistically honest civilian casualties but this happens in other fields too.

Technical language is at its most insidious when it obscures comprehension for people who have a personal stake in understanding.  When I was diagnosed with a less common form of cancer, there were various treatments on offer, all questionable in effectiveness.

To move forward, I wanted and needed access to the medical literature so as to make an informed decision. But the jargon that serves medical researchers in fact limited my access.  I had to become somewhat expert in the field before I could make a decision on chemotherapy.  And no, trusting the doctors was not an option when there was disagreement among leading cancer specialists as to the best course of treatment.

So it is with the field of education.  The many experts and consultants often bring their own language and acronyms to programs, services or curriculum and the result is often a hodgepodge of jargon.

The area of special education is probably the worst for acronyms.  As the duties for specialist teachers in the field change and their job titles shift, parents are left staring into a bewildering bowl of alphabet soup.  Often they have the mistaken notion that since the same person is going to be on the job next year, their child will receive the same services. These parents figure out sometime later that the change in job title made a difference for their child and that the change in acronym if fact signified a substantial shift in teaching methodology or teaching duties.  And as each expert brings additional spin or jargon to the field, the waters are further muddied.

When speaking to a friend recently, we came to the subject of critical thinking, a component of educational guru Michael Fullan's latest (and last?) foray in influencing Ontario's education system entitled, Great to Excellent: Launching the Next Stage of Ontario's Education Agenda (http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/document/reports/FullanReport_EN_07.pdf).  I mentioned to my friend that I had heard a public presentation delivered by an educational consultant on the topic and that to me, it sounded more like a lecture on deductive reasoning than on critical thinking.

To which my friend replied, quoting Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass:

"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less."

"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things." 

"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master — that's all."

Then he added, "I guess if I was master and could decide the meaning of words, I would make "critical thinking" synonymous with chocolate chip cookies!  Then everyone would come hear me present!"

So here it is in a nutshell -- Educators, often at a loss for conclusive scientific results to help guide their actions, frequently turn to the use of jargon or acronyms to help obscure and sell quasi-scientific methodology.


The views expressed in this blog are my personal views only.