Aspiring to the 9th Grade Level, or, How Simple Language Will Reclaim Our Knowledge

In last week’s New Yorker, Jill Lepore had an article called “The Speech.”  While the article was mostly about how the majority of inaugural addresses suck aren’t very memorable, she touched on something called the Flesch-Kincaid Readability Test.  You may have seen this sucker floating around on the ‘net at one time or another, but to sum it up, the Flesch calculator is intended to calculate at what grade level a text reads. (And no I’m not giving you a link so you can test your stuff until the bottom of the post. I know you. Keep reading!)  The Flesch takes factors like average number of words in a sentence, sentence length, syllables in words, etc. and, for us writers, supposedly tells us what grade level our work is meant for.

And it drives me crazy. 

Who died and said that writing a bazillion word sentence with supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shoehorned in three times makes your writing more worthwhile than someone who writes in a clear, concise, readable style?

Let’s consider this excerpt from anthropology. I won’t say I hate most anthropology writing, only that I’m horribly disappointed in it. (Oh, who am I kidding? I despise most anthropology writing like a bride despises the husband she caught cheating on their wedding night. Clearly, this stems from a semester of graduate study toward an anthropology degree.) But I digress. The below text is taken from an abstract of an anthropology paper. No, not the paper itself. The summary.

The author begins by locating the thesis in the corpus of anthropological literature which acknowledges human suffering and refuses to adopt a position of cultural relativism. The complex and elusive phenomenon of structural violence is unpacked, followed by a description of the setting and the author’s methodology. Clinical observations are presented as contextualised narratives located around three themes: alcohol misuse; gendered violence; and inter-generational violence.” (Roberts, Anthropology & Medicine, 2009.)

This bad boy scores a 21 on the Flesch scale. As high school grads would read on a 12th grade level, and people with Bachelor’s degrees on a 16th grade level, I can only assume that this is meant for someone in the eleventybajillionth grade. (Darn, even with that awesomely long word, this paragraph only reads on a 9th grade level.)

My point is that just because a document is long and full of fifty cent words it isn’t automatically worth more than say, a joke, or a slogan, or a song lyric that gets to the heart of a matter in a few words.  Regular people deserve to understand inaugural addresses, mortgages, and diagnoses. And the subjects of anthropological study damn sure deserve to understand what is being written about them by outsiders. At the risk of sounding like a raging populist, I find it disingenuous (50 cent word alert!) that certain writers try to preserve knowledge for themselves by holding it hostage with polysyllabic shackles.

I want to end with a couple of Flesch grade level scores:

“I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.” – T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.  (1st grade)

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” (Kindergarten)

And here’s the link to the Flesch calculator I was using. Try not to tear your hair out. (This post? 8th grade.)

14 Responses to “Aspiring to the 9th Grade Level, or, How Simple Language Will Reclaim Our Knowledge”

  1. Justin Corwin says:

    I guess I’m missing something in your opinion. Where is the implied value in assigning something a minimum grade level? There is a parallel function, the F-K Readability, which seems inversely related to grade level, which is given equal importance in that analyzer, although I can’t figure out how it relates to the summary score.

    And finally, there is something to be said for specificity in language. Poetry and punchiness aside, we have developed more precise words to describe more specific situations and things. Lovely generic platitudes aside, speaking concretely requires a larger vocabulary (or crushingly long use of a smaller one).

    Your closing quotes are famous and pretty, but they could have been written or read by young children, were they so moved. This is only a problem insofar as you feel that there is a relationship between the quality of something, and how many people could produce it.

    I love simple and direct writing, but to do it, you need simple and direct themes. Real, specific situations, like the ones the President-elect is going to be dealing with, are not simple. They are complex, and they deserve complex handling. Populism is only a bad word because implies that in speaking to the people, we appeal to a simplistic, lesser understanding of political issues.

    An honest and usable description of complicated issues will score higher on this scale (although probably not on a linear relationship to the complexity of the issues, as language is not that well varied), and so it is a valid tool to use as a ranging guideline.

  2. Jennifer Dunn Saunders says:

    You and I are just going to have to disagree on this one, Cor. Huge words or convoluted sentences need not be used to explain complicated problems, and in fact, I think that many people who insist on using long words and convoluted sentences when they a.) don’t truly understand what they are talking about b.) want to hide something. As a long time writer, and one who was nominated for a prestigious national award (Pushcart) for a 500 word prose story, I promise that it is often much harder to describe something simply than it is to write down every last detail about it and think you’ve done your job.

    There is absolutely no reason why complicated issues cannot be described in simple terms, and that comes to inaugural speeches, anthropological writing, or otherwise. That doesn’t mean you are appealing to a “simplistic, lesser understanding,” it means you are giving people information they can use. And, in fact, if such language were used in say… mortgage contracts, perhaps we wouldn’t be in the mess we are in today in the U.S.

    The quotes I chose are in no way simplistic, (well, maybe the Rhett Butler, because I was being funny, but I stand by the fact that it was the exact right thing to say at that time for maximum impact in the book, in the movie, and in my post), but the T.S. Eliot quote has nuance and meaning that will baffle even the most worldly 1st grader. It took a man of Eliot’s prodigious talent to distill the idea of isolation into such a simple, elegant pair of sentences. I’m not going to let Flesch-Kincaid tell me that it belongs in the realm of six year olds. When we reduce our understanding of what makes “good” writing to what is “complicated” we are holding knowledge hostage and that’s just silly.

  3. Justin Corwin says:

    You still seem to operating on the assumption that giving something such a rating is intrinsic to overall quality.

    The fact that a 1st grader could read and understand that sentence doesn’t mean it’s bad, it just means it’s simple. I read simple things with pleasure all the time.

    Simple isn’t bad, you’re arguing for simple yourself, while simultaneously arguing for another standard I don’t understand.

    And really, to argue that simple, direct language can be used everywhere is to diminish the complexity of real problems(the mortgage comment is a similarly cheap shot, it wasn’t the contracts that got people in trouble, it was the very simple leading details: This is inexpensive, and you can have it.) Legal contracts use complex words because they reference complex issues with legal history accurately. Simpler language would open the possibility of misinterpretation or wider unthought consequences.

    Advanced vocabulary exists to deal with complex issues. And it’s hard to understand. That’s all the grade scale implies.

    I can precisely define something by calling it what it is, electoral colleges, post-doctoral programs, vapor-phase cooling systems, or I can attempt to approximate them with smaller words and longer sentences, and likely mis-communicate while providing the illusion of comprehension. They’ve understood my words but not my meaning.

    Nobody that I can see has said anything like low grade level writing isn’t good, or that it doesn’t take skill, just that higher grade level writing on this scale requires a more educated reader. And concurrently, that some issues require high grade level writing.

    Find a high grade level writing sample, rewrite it to be low grade level, and it will be longer, and most likely have lost nuance and detail, becoming possibly even misleading.

    And I read that TS Eliot poem in elementary school. It wasn’t a complete understanding, but we kids managed, somehow.

  4. LIs Sowerbutts says:

    I never got good old TS and I HAD to read him in high school LOL! I think good writing depends on your audience. I write on internet marketing - I have been using the term “backlinks” for months - then some asked what is… Longer words or technical terms are professional’s short hand, I don’t expect to explain terms such as syncline, authogen or xenolith to a geolgist but I might if I used them on my blog !

  5. Jennifer Dunn Saunders says:

    Thanks for the comments, Lis! I agree that long words can be the professional’s shorthand, but like you said, if you were explaining a concept to a novice, you definitely wouldn’t want to throw a bunch of jargon at them. The way two doctors talk to one another is very difference from the way your doctor talks to you. Or, at least, it should be if you want to understand what the heck is going on in your kidney.

    I like your blog, by the way. I started looking at it the other day then had to go to school and never had a chance to comment. You’ve inspired me to look more closely at Hubpages, too!

    (Corwin, don’t worry, I’m getting to you! I’m just too busy writing newspaper article due in 12 hours (also, tiiired) to write a long reply at the mo’.)

  6. Eduardo Barroso says:

    I think that I see your point. As a journalist, I think that being able to reach people with your writing is very important, and that is why simplifying the language is so necessary. With simple language, you include readers and make specific issues clear. Opulent words exclude them by making them feel they are not cultured enough to understand, and, most of the time, are unnecessary.

    I also believe that the use of simple words could lead to a better social understanding, especially in this time of globalization when people from many cultures are communicating.

    We have witnessed the evolution of many things around us, why not languages? I really know what I am talking about. My first tongue is Spanish, a language that is full of thousand and thousands of very unnecessary words. Even so, we are still able to say everything we want to say in detail, by just using the simple ones.

  7. J. Burke says:

    As someone who writes for a massive insurance corporation, they take Flesch-Kincaid scores very seriously as a measure of whether or not our groups will be able to read certificates and contracts successfully. It has merit, to a point, but it’s largely inaccurate when you can write a slew of incoherent gibberish and still somehow come out at what seems to be a reasonable reading level.

    Regardless, “simple” language DOES cater to an audience. I keep up a gaming blog that’s become relatively popular over the last year or so, and every once in awhile I throw up a post about “writing well.” I’ve linked to the one I wrote RE: Flesch tests below:

    http://www.unbearably.net/2008/08/13/baby-i-like-your-style-identifying-elements-of-successful-writing/ .

  8. J. Burke says:

    Or, I could be completely retarded and link to the wrong post. My apologies on that one; I just got my new computer up and running.

    http://www.unbearably.net/2008/06/12/how-does-i-shot-web-blogging-with-an-audience/

  9. Jennifer Dunn Saunders says:

    Corwin,

    On stepping back from our argument a little, I think we are talking about two different things. I’m not railing against vocabulary words. There are plenty of rare or specialized words that have two or three syllables and thus wouldn’t register as complicated on the Flesch scale. I’ll try to make myself clear again — I don’t think people need to say, “The gentleman of distinguished years ambulated to the intersection whence two arteries merged and approached the place of business, a retail establishment, located thereupon” when they could say, “The old man walked to the corner store.” (That first sentence was rather fun to write, but I would never turn it into an editor or client.) So yes, I’m not saying that people shouldn’t use technical terms or GRE vocab, I’m saying that a.) people shouldn’t try to sound unnecessarily wordy, and b.) you shouldn’t try to quantify art by branding it with a grade level.

  10. Jennifer Dunn Saunders says:

    Eduardo,

    My husband’s first language is Spanish, too! And he says the same things you do (though, I think, being married to me, he would have to or risk my wrath.) Thanks for visiting my blog!

    J, I think its interesting that a company uses Flesch-Kincaid. An earlier comment talking about technical writing. I’m all good with being precise, but think that precision will naturally lead to less wordiness. For example, I get irked when writers write something like “The teddy bear was like something you would want to hug,” when they could just say “huggable” or “cuddly.”

    Thanks for the blog post, btw! I’m interested to see Flesch-Kincaid make the rounds.

  11. J. Burke says:

    It is interesting, but I think it’s less a company policy and more a requirement of the Department of Insurance (and perhaps how I originally worded that made it seem a little misleading). I think we’re all very aware of how standardized tests and language cater to government regulations but fail to make any sort of qualitative analyses.

    I tend to agree with you. Language/syntax structure is often a component of voice and personal preference, but there are definitely circumstances (such as in technical/professional writing) when it seems ridiculous and unnecessary. Too often we get caught up in our own words, worlds, and images, and we forget that clarity is paramount.

    Also (and this has nothing to do with writing), I recommend picking up the WP plug-in called “Akismet.” It’s a really really fantastic spam-blocker.

  12. Jennifer Dunn Saunders says:

    Why, thank you. (And yes, I’ve been dealing with the government and legal forms lately, so I’m very aware of what you are talking about when it comes to insane technical writing.)

    Did you get spam!? I’m so on it!

  13. Jen says:

    How could anyone think that simplicity is easily produced? Yikes!

    This was a great post. I think my great grandmother said it best when she said, “It is easier to be good than to be simple.” Being able to explain something complicated to the masses is a gift very few people have. A smart person showing off their smarts is just a party trick or a peer review article.

    Writing simply and well is something few achieve.

  14. Jennifer (Saunders) Escalona says:

    Jen - Thanks for your comments! Your grandmother was obviously a wise woman. I really do think that being able to make complex ideas simple, palatable and, so it follows, workable, is a talent that doesn’t come easy. And again, thanks for your comment!

    Also, I just moved my blog (new name, excuse for a new blog and website!) and I would be obliged if you are interestd in my posts if you would check me out over at http://blog.jennescalona.com.

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