When did work become an obstacle course of jargon?

Insight

I’ve lost count of how many times recently I’ve been asked to fire an email over, or jump on a Zoom meeting, or grab a link to a deal, and my working day is starting to sound less like professional communication and more like a warm-up for a triathlon. It happens all over the place, but especially on LinkedIn.

I find myself reacting to this more than I expected, partly because I don’t enjoy firing, jumping or grabbing in the middle of a normal working day, and partly because I’ve always preferred writing, meeting and sharing – which feel altogether calmer, clearer and far less exhausting.


I sometimes wonder whether this reaction is because I’m 51 and I’m officially becoming An Old Fart, although I’ve valued plain English for as long as I can remember. Research in psychology and behavioural science supports this preference, showing that people experience clear, simple language as more credible and the speaker as more trustworthy, even when the subject matter itself is complex. Plain language also reduces cognitive load, which means your brain can focus on the message rather than spending energy translating it.

Corporate buzzwords aren’t a new thing, I get that (I remember working at HSBC’s head office in the late 1990s and hearing a guy called Craig saying that we had to “pick the low-hanging fruit” for the first time).

Why do we keep wrapping everyday communication in trendy jargon? One explanation is social signalling, because language creates belonging and using familiar buzzwords can signal that you’re part of the group. The downside is that clarity is often the first thing to disappear, particularly in mixed teams where people come from different professions, cultures, or neurotypes.

I see this regularly in training rooms and virtual workshops, where the moment someone says “Let’s circle back” or “Remember to reach out” or “How about we take this offline?” attention begins to dip as people stop listening and start decoding. Communication becomes harder work than it needs to be, which is rarely helpful when the aim is to build trust, alignment or momentum.

Clear communication is an act of generosity because it respects the other person’s time, energy and attention, whereas jargon quietly asks the listener to work harder and rewards those who already speak the language. A straightforward “Can you send me the file?” is easier to understand than “Can you fire that over?” and it achieves the same outcome without requiring imaginary weaponry.

At the same time, I appreciate that language will always evolve and I’m not arguing for a return to quill pens and parchment; I just don’t think that progress has to mean turning everyday conversations into a verbal assault course. When emails need decoding, something important has been lost.

I’ve noticed that when teams choose plain English, meetings tend to be shorter, misunderstandings reduce and people feel more included, which in turn leads to better decisions because everyone understands what’s being discussed and what needs to happen next.

This is an area I work on regularly with leaders, presenters and facilitators, particularly those who want people to engage, contribute and take responsibility. How you speak to people shapes how safe they feel to ask questions, challenge assumptions and take action, which is why clear language is never just a style choice, it’s a leadership one.

No jumping required.

Justin Standfield

MANAGING DIRECTOR & PRINCIPAL CONSULTANT

With 22 years of experience in organisational development across various sectors, Justin specialises in change initiatives, creating bespoke programmes to help organisations build resilience and flexibility. Passionate about personal growth, he’s a Fellow of the Learning & Performance Institute and advocates for mindfulness in the corporate world. He also loves tackling “Death By PowerPoint” and is available as a speaker on leadership, resilience, motivation, and more.

Latest blogs

Insight

Confidence smiles, arrogance smirks

The other day I was talking to my teenage son about confidence. He admires someone at school who, in his words, is “super confident”. Yet from where I sit – with a few…
Insight

Compassion without the halo

I’ve been feeling a bit uneasy lately about the way compassion gets talked about. Everywhere I look there seems to be another “community of practice” dedicated to it. These gatherings often radiate good…

Our services: