Your CV boot is torn and slinging grease on the lower control arm, which could compromise the ball joint. You stand there, nodding, perhaps even frowning slightly in what you hope looks like technical consideration, but really, you have no idea what a CV boot is. You are simply performing the theater of competence while waiting for the final, dreadful number to drop.
The Inverse Relationship of Complexity
The truly counterintuitive lesson I have learned, the one that keeps rattling around in my head whenever I encounter an expert who insists on speaking only in abbreviations and proprietary terms, is this: The quality of the explanation is inversely proportional to the complexity of the language used. The harder someone works to make a subject sound complicated, the less secure they usually are in the foundational knowledge itself.
We are trained to assume complexity requires complex language. We mistake difficult terminology for deep expertise. When a doctor says ‘iatrogenic,’ or a programmer discusses ‘polymorphic abstraction,’ we instantly elevate their status, internalizing the feeling that we are the deficient ones, not they the ineffective communicators. But nine times out of ten, jargon is not a descriptive tool; it is a defensive weapon. It is a linguistic gate that keeps the inconvenient public-the people who ask the difficult, fundamental questions-from walking through and looking behind the curtain.
Insight Revealed: The Gatekeeper
“Jargon is not a descriptive tool; it is a defensive weapon. It is a linguistic gate that keeps the inconvenient public… from walking through and looking behind the curtain.“
Rachel W: The Master Translator
I used to work closely with an elevator inspector named Rachel W. Not just any inspector-Rachel was the kind of expert who knew the safety codes better than the people who wrote them. She had this unsettling, almost unsettlingly calm approach to potentially catastrophic situations. I remember one job where the building manager was panicking about a ‘fault state in the primary governor sequence.’ The manager, naturally, was quoting the manual verbatim, using these highly charged technical terms that sounded like the building was about to launch into orbit.
She ordered a replacement-part number ending in 2-and the issue was resolved. The manager, who had initially treated her like necessary paperwork, was suddenly silent, staring at the schematic trying to reconcile his complex fear with her simple truth.
The Value of Translation
(Trust based on confusion)
(Trust based on clarity)
The Admission of Guilt
True expertise, Rachel taught me through her sheer, terrifying pragmatism, is the ability to translate the abstract and technical into immediate, actionable reality. It’s not about knowing the difference between a ’tiller’ and a ‘helm,’ it’s about explaining why that difference matters when your boat is taking on water in a squall.
And I admit, I’ve been guilty of it, too. I’ll sometimes throw in a phrase like ‘leveraging synergy’ or ‘optimal operational cadence’ not because it aids clarity, but because I’m tired, perhaps even self-conscious, and I need a quick shield. […] It’s a low-grade, subconscious form of intellectual insecurity, and it’s pathetic.
We criticize the mechanic, but we replicate the defense mechanism when we are forced to discuss something we haven’t fully grasped ourselves.
Compliance vs. Value
If they talk in circles, demanding you trust them solely because you cannot follow them, they are selling compliance, not value. They are ensuring that when the $42 check is cut, you have no basis for questioning the charge, only resignation.
Think about the car repair shop. When a trusted mechanic explains, “The bushing is worn out, which is why your steering is loose when you hit bumps. We need to press a new one in,” you feel informed. You feel respected. You might not know what a bushing is in molecular detail, but you understand the relationship between the worn part and the negative symptom. That understanding transforms the transaction from an imposition into a cooperative solution. And honestly, that’s the underlying principle of service: translating complexity into shared reality. That is precisely the kind of transparent, educational approach that sets organizations like Diamond Autoshop apart in an industry plagued by opaque estimates and confusing acronyms.
This gap between the expert and the layperson is often cited as a necessary evil-a side effect of specialized knowledge. But I see it as a deliberate choice. It’s easier to maintain authority if your client feels obligated to defer to your incomprehensible language. If you can explain the issue simply, the client gains the confidence to ask the second, more difficult question: “Why does it cost $2,002?” The control vanishes the moment clarity arrives.
Authority Gained vs. Authority Earned
Requires deference to archaic terms.
Fosters confidence and questions.
I remember a lawyer telling me once that the most powerful word in his professional vocabulary was “whereas.” He wasn’t kidding. He found that inserting overly formal, archaic terms gave him instant, unearned authority over the client, simply because the client assumed the complexity was mandated by the law itself, not by his chosen writing style. It took 32 minutes for me to interrupt him and ask him to use plain English, a moment he clearly resented, as if I had requested he perform surgery with a spoon.
That resentment-that subtle resistance to simplification-is the core indictment of jargon-as-control. It suggests that the expert views simplification not as a professional obligation, but as a reduction of their personal power. They are protecting their silo, not serving the needs of the confused party standing across the desk.
Demand the Translation. Reject Intimidation.
It’s time we stopped accepting linguistic intimidation as a sign of intellectual depth. If you cannot explain the problem, you don’t fully understand the solution.
If a professional cannot convey knowledge without proprietary vocabulary, they are selling compliance.
And this is the challenge: If true mastery is the elimination of unnecessary complexity, then what are we really paying for when the explanation is delivered in a language designed to make us feel perpetually 12 years old?