I speak consultese

I speak consultese. What language do you speak?

I realised that we are not always very careful about how we say things. We often express ourselves for our own convenience and not for the ease of the reader or listener. I was brought down to earth some years ago when I spoke to a client about the artefacts that we would produce. What I meant was reports or presentations. And that’s what I should have said. The woman who I was speaking to (who I later discovered had no time for consultants) was very quick to pounce on me. “What are you?” she asked. “An archaeologist?”.

Today I was drawn to a local on-line newsletter. They are going to build a rockwall at the river mouth. This is a really good thing because it will make a nice swimming area. The newsletter quotes from a report by a geologist:

“The Tuross Head pluton is part of the Moruya Suite from the Bega Batholith. It is well exposed as coastal outcrops at Bingie Point and Tuross Head. Gravity and magnetic surveys have shown that the mafic rocks are km-scale layers concentrically arranged and dipping toward the pluton interior. The arrangement is consistent with inward dipping nature of the mafic layers, which is concordant with a variably developed feldspar foliation and with the orientation of elongate enclaves in the tonalite.

The mafic layers are asymmetric, planar on one side and lobate to irregular on the other. The lobate contacts outline m-scale load-cast structures, and asymmetric granitic veining and scarce felsic pipes along these contacts are “way-up” structures that indicate the tops of all mafic layers face towards the interior of the pluton.”

This is such a joy to read. I have always been concerned about the pluton particularly because there are mafic rocks. And it's so heartening read that the elongate enclaves in the tonalite are good. What on earth, though, is a “way-up” structure?

I was immediately reminded of Lewis Carroll[1]:

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought -- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head   He went galumphing back. "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy. `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

I think perhaps Lewis Carroll may have been taking the mickey out of people who used fancy words for ordinary things. Fortunately for me, our newsletter translated the geological claptrap. It means that that the rock wall will remain pinned and not slip towards the east into deeper water.

But whether or not there is a difference between a pluton and a slithy tove we would do well to think about whether what we write is what we might want to read. For there is no purpose in writing anything if it is not to be read.

It is very tempting, perhaps, to suppose that flowery prose that is full of big words, metaphors and litotes[2] is impressive. I had written this sentence and then returned to writing after a few hours. In the meantime I had read a draft proposal that was a joy to read. Its author told me that the few key paragraphs (amounting to a page and a half) had taken him 3 hours. This, of course, as you all know is because it is really hard to write a short document.

I had the pleasure, when I was with Coopers & Lybrand, of working for a boss who had himself been in the British civil service. He had been given some advice and passed it on to me. It has stood me in good stead. “Once you have written something,” he told me, “read it through and cross out every adjective and adverb. Then go back over it and put back only those adjectives and adverbs that make a difference.” Of course, that’s not all you need to do but it’s a pretty good start.

He would also say that the infinitive may be split where it will not give offence to the reader. Now this is a wonderful piece of advice. It doesn’t matter whether you, the writer, think that the Starship Enterprise had the right to boldly go. It matters only that the reader might not like it. And you are writing for the reader, not to display your preferences and prejudices. If there’s a chance that the reader will overlook your brilliant ideas because he’s riled about the split infinitive, then don’t split. Better yet, just don’t split it at all!!

Even when you have avoided the split infinitive, cut down on the adjectives and adverbs and used your apostrophes correctly you may still not have reached perfection. Here’s a quote from Pseud’s Corner of Private Eye[3]:

“This is not a jersey. This is a portal through which men pass. This is not material. This is a fabric that binds us together. This is not a souvenir. This is a reminder of all who have worn it before us. This is the absence of fear. This is not a uniform. This is a country unified. This is not a jersey only 22 men wear. This is a jersey fitted for four million people. This is victory and loss, but it will not be defeated. This is everything but a jersey.”

This is an Adidas advert for an All Blacks jersey. It contains short sentences. There are no big words. It’s easy to read. Yet the when I looked on the internet[4] I found the same quote with the comment “what absolute horse manure!”. Unless, of course, you are a Kiwi. But most of us aren’t.

I am not, of course, having a go at Kiwis. I am simply saying that we need to write for the reader. We need to use his or her language, not ours. When you have written something. Always go back and read it, preferably out loud. And those of you who know me, know that I never use the word “always”!

As an example closer to the professional home of a consultant is an extract from a report written for the Department of Defence[5]. This contains the wonderful (or perhaps not) statement that “Defence can improve its capability outcomes by progressively tightening the boundary conditions around the capability development process, improving top-down incentives for better capability delivery in an environment of capped budgets and extension of the current use of integrated project team (and project team leaders) across the end-to-end capability development process”. I leave to you, Gentle Reader, to determine what this means.

Post-script: it turned out that the geologist’s report was an April Fool’s joke. Well, it got me! But the point stands; we often write obfuscatory[6] prose when we don’t really know what we are talking about. I always reckon that if I am in verbal diarrhoea mode then I have not thought clearly and I do not really have much to say.

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[1]                 http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/jabber/jabberwocky.html, accessed 4 April 2012

[2]                 I needed to put that word in to impress you all. There’s a story behind it. The British civil service has a tradition of classically trained civil servants. These would have been the people who took Greats at Oxford (if you don’t know what that is then you will have to look it up!!). I had one such as a client once. I had written that “the system was not useless”. It was a mistype for “the system was now useless”. I bumped into my client at the lift. “I liked your paper, “ he said “but I wondered whether your point about the system was an error or a litotes. “Ah, “ I said quickly “I think it was an error”. I was off like a shot to look the word up. You should do so, too!!

[3]                 Private Eye No:1234; April 17 - April 30 2009.

[4]                 http://adamsmith.wordpress.com/2009/07/05/private-eyes-pseuds-corner/, accessed 4 April 2012.

[5]                 Review of the Defence Accountability Framework, January 2011.

[6]                 This is a wonderful word designed and used simply to obfuscate. A definition of this word is “to make obscure or unclear. It comes from the Latin obfuscātus which is the past participle of obfuscāre (to darken).