Architects redux and the case for jargon
The Monitor鈥檚 language columnist surprises herself by making the case for jargon.
Robins feed on staghorn sumac on a tree at the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and Whittesley Avenue in North Adams, Mass.
Gillian Jones/The Berkshire Eagle/AP
Like a fascinating conversation overheard at a restaurant, the response to 鈥檚 list of 鈥150 Weird Words That Only Architects Use鈥 has rumbled along in the blogosphere.
One commenter opines that classicist jargon tends to be precise terminology for certain building elements (e.g., column and pilaster are not interchangeable); whereas modernist jargon tends to reflect fuzzy thinking. Like many in this discussion, he uses the word 鈥渙bfuscation,鈥 which, in the case of modernists, can become positively 鈥渢oxic.鈥 Hmm, can you tell which side he鈥檚 on?
Another architect suggests compiling vocabulary lists and then sorting them into three groups: those apparently meant to obfuscate, those apparently meant to be self-explanatory, and finally, terms that simply make communication more efficient 鈥 or at least do so, I would add, when all parties know a pilaster from a column.
The Oxford English Dictionary鈥檚 entry for jargon dates to 1900. The word itself came into English from Old French; Chaucer used it in his 鈥淢erchant鈥檚 Tale,鈥 circa 1386. Oxford鈥檚 first definition is 鈥淭he inarticulate utterance of birds, or a vocal sound resembling it; twittering, chattering.鈥 This definition went obsolete in the 15th century but 鈥渉as been revived in modern literature,鈥 that of the 19th century. A quote from Longfellow follows: 鈥淲ith beast and bird the forest rings, Each in his jargon cries or sings.鈥
When you hear birds twittering in the trees as you walk through the park, it doesn鈥檛 matter that you can鈥檛 follow their 鈥渃onversation.鈥 More recently, though, jargon has been used in its sense of 鈥渟pecial words and phrases that are only understood by people who do the same kind of work鈥 (). Such specialized lingo is often completely (and intentionally?) opaque to outsiders.
A third commenter on 鈥渨eird words鈥 invited attention to what we might call an expression of anti-jargonism: cartoonist Randall Munroe鈥檚 new book, 鈥.鈥 It鈥檚 a collection of detailed annotated large-format diagrams of interesting objects. And the titles, labels, and descriptions of the book are all written 鈥渦sing only the thousand most common English words,鈥 Mr. Munroe says.
He continues, 鈥淭he diagrams in Thing Explainer cover all kinds of neat stuff 鈥 including computer buildings (datacenters), the flat rocks we live on (tectonic plates), the stuff you use to steer a plane (airliner cockpit controls), and the little bags of water you鈥檙e made of (cells).鈥
It sounds like a great idea.聽
And yet ... part of learning about something is learning the vocabulary that goes with it. Yes, OK, maybe people who play the piano by ear don鈥檛 need to know the bass clef from the treble, and there are dancers who can just get out on the floor and move.
But if you鈥檙e going to engage with others in the field or activity you鈥檙e learning something about 鈥 whether as a student of computer science or geology or whatever 鈥 you need to know the lingo.
There: I鈥檝e surprised myself by making the case for jargon.