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.