The Literacy Crisis – Vocabulary

Good afterevenmorn, Readers!
I have returned with the next issue of me yelling into the aether (the literacy crisis series), engendered by four simultaneous fights I witnessed on social media a couple of weeks ago. This one appears to be the most controversial, for reasons I cannot fathom.
Big words.
Let’s talk about it, shall we?

I saw a screen shot of a tweet… or perhaps a threads post? I don’t know. I am not on either site any longer. In any case, it started going around and it raised my eyebrows a few weeks ago. Then I saw it explode on the various bookish platforms, namely Instagram and TikTok. And boy was it a fight. The tweet/threads post read, simply:
Dear authors,
Please use easy words in your books/fics – thank you.
Yours truly – reader
And… I… I cannot even begin to begin with this one. First, I want to approach this as the kind of reader I am.
Dear authors,
Please use whatever words fits in your books/fics. I adore words; their musicality, their rhythm, and I don’t mind expanding my vocabulary. I have a dictionary in my pocket in case context clues aren’t enough for me to divine meaning.
Yours truly – reader
Alright, I’m being mildly petty with this one, but the point remains. I do adore the musicality of words. Sometimes a longer word better fits the rhythm or flow of a sentence, or sometimes it better suits the quirks of a character, or the world in which the particular story is set. Or, it might be there is a certain nuance the author wants to convey, exposited better by that long word than a shorter/easier alternative. There are a lot of reasons as to why a writer may pick a longer word over a shorter/easier word; and more often than not, it’s not because the writer just wants to sound smart or wants to make a reader feel stupid.
Before anyone jumps in with the “check your ableism” comments, someone already beat you to it, and this, too, has come under fire.
First and foremost, no one speaks for a disabled person save a disabled person. And several disabled people have already disavowed this take. Yes, including those who are dyslexic. One was absolutely insulted that at the insinuation that their disability precluded them from a relatively extensive vocabulary, or that they couldn’t understand nuance, or that they lacked the capacity to pick up a dictionary.
What is actually ableist is assuming those with cognitive disabilities or neurodivergence are incapable of learning “big” words
When pressed, some of the folks who parroted this terrible take simply said that they did not want to disrupt their reading to go look up a word.

I was absolutely floored by this admission. Wording it differently, what they’re saying is that they are incurious, unwilling to learn, unwilling to engage with the text, uninterested in nuance, and or unable to discern meaning from context or unwilling to try to. Perhaps you can relate. I cannot. I do not understand this mindset.
Perhaps because it is my love of words and language (good thing I’m a writer then, I suppose) that has me blinking rapidly in confusion at this debate. I cannot imagine not wanting to know things; not especially what words mean. Even as a child, I was a precocious reader, having devoured books well above the typical reading level for my age. I remember raging against the treatment of children by some teachers (or folks who would categorise books in to age-ranges); as if we were stupid and incapable. I still feel this way, particularly when I note how children’s books were written in decades long gone; their word choices, and how they treated kids as if they were clever and capable.
I ended up with a vocabulary that was quite extensive for someone my age… which did make childhood a little difficult. I’m sure hyperlexic people can relate.
It cannot be understated how important words are. They are our primary means of communication (there are of course other means, facial expressions and body language, but we are capable of communicating so much more. With words). Perhaps that’s just me, though. Perhaps I am of a rare type, but I don’t really think I am.
There are plenty of books at every reading level, so if one is truly resistant to improving their vocabulary even a little, there are plenty of options to fall back on.
The demand of a reader that an author cater to their preferences for easy words in particular strikes me as wildly entitled, and a profoundly worrying symptom of anti-intellectualism that has the world rapidly falling apart around us. My conspiratorial side has me ruminating on the possibility that this is some kind of psy-op designed by the people who would benefit from us turning our minds off.

An extensive vocabulary allows for the expression of nuance, without which understanding of the world around us becomes shallow, and as such, easily manipulated. The ability to understand nuance is wildly important. The ability to accurately express it equally so. Without those tools, it becomes nearly impossible to fully understand or be understood. That is so, so important, and we get there by being able to express and understand nuance in our texts. Yes, even in the stuff we read for fun.
But let’s take out the broader world stuff. Let’s just talk entertainment.
Purely on an entertainment level, the expression and comprehension of nuance can make for a fuller, more enjoyable reading experience. It can impact a reader’s emotions, the response of which might vary with the ever so slight shades of meaning exposited by the particular word choice. It could also foreshadow; and those who understand that nuance will have an oh-so-satisfying lightbulb moment while reading that those who cannot (or refuse to) may miss out on. Purely as entertainment, understanding a word and why it was chosen can deepen the reading experience. Profoundly.

So no, I don’t believe a reader has the right to ask for easy words. If it’s easy words they want, they can find stories at their preferred reading level. The author is trying to do something with the words they’ve chosen. No one gets to dictate that but the author. Demanding easier words robs the reader and writer both.
If you have trouble with a monosyllabic or obscure word, engage with the text — look the word up.
I’m going to finish with a word that I learnt as an adult who has been reading nearly all my life. I saw this word for the first time last year, and I fell in love with it.
Somnolence
(Noun)
The quality or state of being drowsy, sleepiness.
e.g: There was nothing that could shake the deep somnolence of this sheltered hamlet.
I do feel like perhaps I’ve been a bit harsh here, but I am honestly astounded, appalled, and disheartened that this is even an argument happening at all.
If you would be so good as to cheer me up with your favourite obscure or difficult words and their definitions, I would very much like to read them. Or if you want to yell at me for this take, you can do that too. I probably won’t read that.
When S.M. Carrière isn’t brutally killing your favorite characters, she spends her time teaching martial arts, live streaming video games, and sometimes painting. In other words, she spends her time teaching others to kill, streaming her digital kills… and sometimes relaxing. Her most recent titles include Skylark, Human and The Timbercreek Incident.
I’ve always loved defenestration – the act of throwing some one or some thing out of the window. Such an erudite word for such a basic and violent action. Come to think of it, erudite is another word. Great article. Appalling that people are requesting that they be patronised.
Defenestration is a GREAT word!
And yeah, it has absolutely appalled me.
That explains a weird exchange I experienced about two months ago. It bewildered me at the time.
Me: [Praises an officer for astounding levels of patience.]
Person 2: 1860s vocabulary bruh
Person 3: Huh? That’s just having a vocabulary.
My word choice partially had to do with a different comment of mine recently being sin-binned at that venue for using the word “aww” (obviously, I am a horrendous degenerate whose commentary must be restricted until reviewed by a live moderator), so perhaps it was a little odd because I was making sure everything was a long-established word, but that was the first time I’ve ever been slapped at for my vocabulary *and then been defended by a third party immediately.* The two must have been engaged in this debate elsewhere.
One of the cures for the sort of lowest-common-denominator laziness that leads to debates like this, seems to lie in exposing the people in question to the delights of crafting insults that get around the barriers of polite society. Not actively insulting the people, themselves, you understand, but showing them the art of how to say “$@%# you” or something infinitely more upsetting in a way that not only doesn’t get caught by automated filters, but actively makes the recipient laugh before going, “Wait a minute…” The U.S. Founding Fathers could be exceptionally savage, as could Shakespeare (to say nothing of Twain), and once the skill gets translated to modern parlance, I’ve seen a number of vocabulary resistors dig into study with gusto.
I can sympathize with people who don’t want to be kicked out of a good narrative by an unknown word. But an unknown word has a one-time solution, and won’t be a problem again. I’d rather that than to be kicked out of a narrative by underskilled wordcraft, which happens far more often. (Perhaps some of the people resisting vocabulary are reacting to the Scientology blame of many problems on misunderstood word definitions? That can be upsetting to encounter, when one is not braced for the passion with which it is argued.)
Wishing I could give you some fun words for comfort, but they’re not coming, right now. Instead, perhaps… I recommend signing up for the RobWords newsletter, which delivers weekly vocabulary and etymology deliciousness. (Though, be advised, his delightful cheekiness has devolved into active uppitiness a few times, of late.)
That happened to me a lot as a kid. Much less so as an adult. How disheartening it’s creeping in to adult life.
Isaac Asimov couldn’t stand Clark Ashton Smith (a writer I adore); he found him unreadable, largely because of Smith’s baroque vocabulary. (Smith educated himself by reading the Encyclopedia Britannica – the whole thing.) But if a writer sends me to the dictionary sometimes – or even frequently – so what? As far as I’m concerned, that’s a feature, not a bug. Word choice is strictly a matter of utility – what is the purpose of the clause, sentence, paragraph, piece? Not every writer has to sound like Hemingway. Most good writers write for themselves anyway and don’t lose much sleep worrying about the audience. You can tell the ones who do – they’re boring.
Not long ago I read Francis Parkman’s 1884 Montcalm and Wolfe, the conclusion of his six volume history of the struggle between Great Britain and France for control of North America. In speaking of the British prime minister, the Duke of Newcastle, Parkman said this:
“His wealth, county influence, flagitious use of patronage and long-practised skill in keeping majorities in the House of Commons by means that would not bear the light, made his support necessary to Pitt himself, and placed a fantastic political jobber at the helm of England in a time when she needed a patriot and a statesman.”
I had to look up “flagitious.” It means extremely wicked, deeply criminal, villainous, or shockingly disgraceful. I suspect it was an uncommon word even in 1884, but I was glad to learn it; it seems to me to be a good word to have handy these days.
Oooh! I’ve not heard Flagitious before. What a great word!
Thanks for another thought-provoking article S.M. I contend that the one exception is with the word “said” which I have been told is an almost invisible word, meaning readers tend to read right through it. So if you are not trying to convey an emotion, an author doesn’t have to pull out a thesaurus.
As for fun words, Ienjoy reading older sci fi (think Bradbury or Simak) for the way they use older/regional phrases. I had to research “beating the devil’s tattoo” which I speculated to be hitting and leaving a bruise but instead meant drumming your fingers in an impatient manner.
You know, I liked your guess better… but I suppose it makes sense if you consider the alternate tattoo – the military drumming display.
If you like nifty Latinate words — some of them his own coinages — read the 17th-century physician Sir. Thomas Browne
I came across a cool new word in Heather Fawcett’s “Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries”. solivagant. According to Webster, it means “rambling alone : marked by solitary wandering”.
I love learning new words like this, but I so rarely get a chance to use them!
Oh, I really like that one. It’s new to me too!
This was a terrific editorial and I agree with everything you wrote here. I’ve been watching anti-intelltualism and lazy, falling standards on the rise since the nineties and it feels like we really are at the precipice.
I’d also add a concurrent problem I’ve seen rising among many of the post-BookTok crowd that is helping fuel this issue and that is the pettiest, most childish sense of entitlement harbored by so many readers, especially genre readers, these days. An author (or any creative) doesn’t owe their audience anything except respect an an honest effort. Audiences don’t get to dictate ANYTHING to the creator. Ever. Right or wrong, it’s their vision and theirs alone.
Thank you!
I’ve noticed this trend for a long time, and didn’t really think much of it at first, but now I see popular book reviews that come down hard on authors using prose that is ‘purple’ or ‘baroque’ (or ‘Victorian’ but that’s a different story). In many cases, when I investigate these books, it’s not so much purple prose but the author simply using a vocabulary that extends past middle school levels.
I understand that some may struggle with new and unfamiliar words, but it’s as if authors are being actively discouraged from doing anything really creative or expressive with their prose. Everything should be quick, easy, and direct. Why waste time with ornament or poetics? I’ve even seen this influencing the advice from publishers. It’s bewildering.