Good Writing is Precise

To communicate is to transfer concepts into another person’s mind. This is a difficult task. Language is a protocol for achieving this. Words map to concepts in your reader’s mind, and by using a word you bring forward that concept. But words are concrete and concepts are subtle. Reality is always more finely textured than language. When writing, you could always drill down into more detail and specificity, but practicality forces us to limit ourselves. Given this constraint, it is essential that we always choose the most precise words that strike closest to the underlying concept we’re trying to communicate.

I don’t think that synonyms really exist. Why would a language have dozens of words that mean the same thing? It makes no sense. Every word means a different thing, and a skilled user of language always chooses the most precise one. I read that John Boyd once spent two hours discussing whether to use the word “whirring” or “whirling” in an essay. Words mean more to great writers, and they’re pained by imprecise wording like princesses are pained by peas.

For example, the thesaurus lists several synonyms for “despair” - anguish, desperation, despondency, discouragement. None of these is despair. Despair is what the great Alexander felt on his deathbed. One despairs when all is lost and there is no hope of recovery. A great writer knows that despair is a word with no equal.

Sometimes two words will have precisely the same meaning, but with different connotations. But this is rarer than you might think. For example most people think that a “cult” is just a “religion” that’s harmful or small. But actually, there are precise technical differences between the two concepts that the words refer to. A religion is a system of belief and worship concerning a deity. A cult is a social group organized around devotion to some object. Some religions are cults. Some cults are religions. But cults and religions are different types of things that sometimes intersect. They’re not points on a spectrum.

Sometimes a word has a lot of concepts bundled up in it. “Capitalism” is a squishy, over-loaded word. It’s best to unravel it into is component parts - private enterprise, competitive markets, etc - and choose to deal with the most relevant concept.

Lawyers understand this. This is why contracts begin with a bunch of definitions. Law, much of which is essentially advanced reading and writing, takes the technical nature of language to its extreme.

(On that note, I’m thinking about how a lot of advanced AI today features a language control interface. Will highly precise, technically skilled writers, such as lawyers, be the best users of these AI tools? Is the solution to the control problem simply extremely well-written ‘contractual’ language?)

Knowing a word is deeper than knowing the definition. The final, deepest level of understanding words is probably to be aware of the relationship between words over the course of their historical development. Etymology reveals surprising things about the relationship between concepts.

For example, this amazing post shows the closeness between the words “region” and “rule”. This is so cool. A fact that took me until well into college to notice, that territory and sovereign rule are deeply intertwined, has been embedded in the development of language for hundreds of years. Definitely check out the post I linked for other examples.

A bad writer uses a thesaurus to replace simple words with bigger ones. A good writer doesn’t use a thesaurus and instead chooses simple, clear words. A great writer is constantly turning to the thesaurus to find the most precise word for what she is trying to express. (Obviously you would look strange using an archaic word in business writing, but in blog posts or letters to friends I say go wild). If you’re worried that your readers won’t know a word, that’s ok, just link them the definition.

Uncertainty about definitions is at the heart of a lot of communication problems. For example I believe the reason “when does life begin” (eg. conception, heartbeat, etc.) is an eternal debate is that there is no agreed upon definition of ‘life’ (even among philosophers and biologists). When smart people are resolving differing viewpoints, it helps to agree on the “thesis statement” about which they disagree, with clarity around definitions. The most frustrating disagreements are those where the interlocutors are fuzzy on the exact point of contact in the debate. (One sign you’re in an argument of this kind is that someone will shout over the other, “see actually we agree!”).