OK, I’ll admit it. I suffer from a mild case of sesquipedalophobia. That’s the fear of long words, of course. (Don’t believe those that claim that the appropriate word is hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia. That word was made up as a joke)

Well, maybe I’m not really afraid of long words. But I don’t care for them. More than long words, I dislike fancy words. It’s my belief that if you can’t explain a concept in fairly common terms, then you don’t fully understand it. There are times, I guess, when a big word is the most appropriate. But those times are rare.

I feel the same way about jargon. When you’re in a discussion and someone says, “Oh, so you take a Hognobian approach to that problem,” I can’t help but wonder who the person is trying to impress. I’ve talked before about my dislike of labels. High falutin’ labels are especially distasteful to me.

I like the story of the farmer who, while conversing with a graduate student, didn’t hesitate to say, “Why don’t you take that big word back and give me two or three little ones?” If you want to impress me with your knowledge, explain your views in a way that the non-expert can understand. If you really want to impress me, speak in such a way that a 10-year-old can follow you.

The most impressive, of course, is the person who speaks in such a way that even I can understand them.