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Monday, March 31, 2008
We Must Use Big Words
As law professors, we must use big words.
Nay, allow me to restate, viz., it is incumbent upon us to deploy brobdingnagian lexemes.
Coming from a journalism undergraduate education, I grew up with a disdain for big words. If something can be said simply, so much the better.
But I have grown to have a different perspective as a law professor. When teaching class, if a big word pops into my head, I drop it like it’s hot.
Why? I figure it’s my responsibility. If we, the learned academics, don’t use the big words, who will? If language goes unused, it withers and dies. And, hey, there are many words out there, which, while no one really wants to use them, it would still be nice to keep them technically alive. Thus, someone must use them. That someone – especially when it comes to legal words – is us, the lexerati.
I’m doing my part. In fact, I’m liable to use big words even if I am not entirely sure what they mean. Many people would be mortified at the thought of misusing a word in front of a bunch of people. Not me. As a scholar, I figure, it’s my job to have new thoughts, to introduce original ways of looking at things, and, as I see it, to use words in entirely novel ways.
More than that, I figure it’s also my job to make up completely new words. So if something pops into my head, and it sounds like a word, I’ll just say it.
I’d give you some examples, if I could, but I can’t. How am I supposed to know what words I’ve made up or misused? No one is going to tell me they know better. Hello! I’m a law professor.
But I am confident that I’m using at least some words incorrectly. How can I be so sure? It’s a numbers game. Big words are so omniscient in my vocabulary, the odds are nanotesimally small that I’ve used them all correctly and that they all, in fact, exist.
A close friend of mine in law school – who was born with a severely reduced capacity for embarrassment* – once interrupted her federal courts class to ask what the word “precatant” meant. It was about the tenth time in as many minutes that the professor – one of the nation’s leading legal scholars, I might add – had dropped the word into the lecture. So finally, my friend couldn’t stand it anymore, and she just raised her hand and asked what the heck it meant.
Uproarious laughter ensued.
“You’ve never heard of the word?” the prof asked incredulously. He nonetheless obliged by reciting the definition of “precatant.”
Now, here’s the funny part: “precatant” is not a word. (The prof apparently meant “precatory.”) Or, I should say, “precatant” wasn’t a word, at least not until it was used by one of the nation’s leading legal scholars.
I think the English language will withstain.
________________________
* to whom I am now married
Posted by Eric E. Johnson on March 31, 2008 at 08:30 PM in Life of Law Schools, Teaching Law | Permalink
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Comments
An expounded justification of the obligation of the possession of esoteric vernacular and terminology but assimilating the obscurities with toil ensues,perchance an ennui.
Posted by: Deng Xiang | Nov 26, 2008 8:06:03 AM
I had a professor who used precatory, then paused to ask if we knew what it meant, and then defined it. Now I use it all the time.
(all of that is true except for the part about using it all the time)
Posted by: Jim Green | Apr 3, 2008 7:16:32 AM
Well, let me put it this way then: I have no idea what "precatory" means either.
Posted by: Bruce Boyden | Apr 2, 2008 12:24:09 AM
Yes, of course Bruce, the audience makes all the difference. A jury trial is no place to show off your vocabulary, nor is an appellate argument (unless Bruce Selya is on the panel, or perhaps Richard Posner). Perhaps a federal jurisdiction class requires a definition of precatory, but it is still not obvious to me that there is an adequate shorter alternative. At some point, educated people ought to be expected to look up unfamiliar words, or to ask what they mean.
Let me put it this way. Barack Obama occasionally uses big words. George W. Bush does not.
Case closed.
Posted by: steve lubet | Apr 1, 2008 5:47:49 PM
Steven, I'm with you to an extent. But I think there's an additional danger beyond showing off or misusing words, and that's confusing your audience because they can't understand what you're saying. If you use an obscure word relatively infrequently, it can be fun, and people will likely still be able to follow. (I've dropped in the word "gestalt" a few times in my class this semester without explaining it, but I suspect those students who didn't know what it meant were able to grasp my meaning from the context.) But use too many such words, or use one repeatedly where it's critical to know exactly what it means, and you risk losing people. I think that's the point of the anecdote -- the professor did not realize that "precatory" (let alone "precatant") was not in the average law student's vocabulary.
Posted by: Bruce Boyden | Apr 1, 2008 2:04:13 PM
My heuristic on longitudinal polysyllabism is an instantiation of gluteal neuropathy. (The brain can absorb what the butt can endure.)
Posted by: Jeff Lipshaw | Apr 1, 2008 12:28:27 PM
I don't get the point of the anecdote. Precatory is just as big as precatant. Should the professor have avoided using it. If so, what smaller word would have conveyed the precise meaning?
In any event, many fine writers use big words and use them well. What is the virtue of reducing our vocabularies, especially in an academic setting? Of course, some people show off or misuse words, and that should be avoided, but otherwise I always enjoy learning new words, as they often prompt new ideas.
Posted by: Steven Lubet | Apr 1, 2008 10:40:19 AM
This post is SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS.
Posted by: Orin Kerr | Apr 1, 2008 10:25:29 AM
Eschew surplusage.
Posted by: Jonathan | Apr 1, 2008 7:27:07 AM
Eric, the title of this post has five words, and five syllables. It is clear, concise, and easily understood by almost anyone.
Bad law prof. No biscuit.
Posted by: Bruce Boyden | Apr 1, 2008 12:22:36 AM
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