Steven Pinker, author of The Sense of Style, studies both the science of cognitive psychology—how the brain processes language, how we associate words with meanings—and the art of language. In a 2014 interview, he laid out the reasons that graduate students are often ineffective writers. When you enter graduate school, Pinker said, “Your estimate of the breadth of the knowledge of the people you are writing for gets radically miscalibrated. Highly idiosyncratic ideas are discussed as if they are common knowledge, and you lose the sense of how tiny a club you have joined.” In addition, Pinker continued, “You’re in terror of being judged naïve and unprepared, and so you signal in your writing that you’re a member of this esoteric club.”
“Simpler writing is easier to process, and studies have demonstrated that processing fluency is associated with a variety of positive dimensions,” including “higher judgments of truth,” confidence, frequency, fame, and even “liking,” according to a study conducted by Daniel M. Oppenheimer, a professor of psychology at Princeton University. In the article he wrote about his findings, with the tongue-in-cheek title “Consequences of Erudite Vernacular Utilized Irrespective of Necessity,” Oppenheimer concludes that “overly complex texts caused readers to have negative evaluations of those texts and the associated authors, especially if the complexity was unnecessary.”
What this all means for public policy professionals is that we must fight the urge to “utilize erudite vernacular irrespective of necessity” and prune those needless words. Here are 11+ strategies you can use to make your writing clearer and more concise.
1. Don’t Use a Fancy Word When a Simple One Will Do
There is a common word for every fancy one. When you use the common word, you rarely lose anything important. Replacing unnecessarily formal words with more common ones will make your writing sharper and more direct, and your readers will appreciate the result.
- Draft: Pursuant to the recent memorandum issued November 29, 2014, because of financial exigencies, it is incumbent upon us all to endeavor to make maximal utilization of electronic communication in lieu of personal visitation.
- Revision: As the memo issued on November 29, 2014, said, to save money you should use email as much as you can instead of making personal visits.
2. When Possible, Compress Several Words into a Word or Two
Avoid restating words and phrases that do not add meaning and avoid using excessive words that you could remove without losing meaning. For example, instead of writing the reason for, for the reason that, due to the fact that, in light of the fact that, we could use because.
- Draft: In light of the fact that the agency received funding cuts from 2003 through 2009, it did not have enough resources to complete its projects.
- Revision: Because the agency received funding cuts . . .
Instead of writing despite the fact that, regardless of the fact that, or notwithstanding the fact that, we could use although or even though.
- Draft: Despite the fact that the program’s performance measures were calculated several times, serious errors crept into the findings.
- Revision: Even though the program’s performance measures . . .
Instead of writing in the event that, if it should transpire/happen that, or under circumstances in which, we could use if.
- Draft: In the event that the program fails to meet certain standards, its funding may be cut.
- Revision: If the program fails . . .
Instead of writing on the occasion of, in a situation in which, or under circumstances in which, we could use when.
- Draft: In a situation in which a program does not detect fraudulent applications, the program may be required to develop a more formal application procedure.
- Revision: When a program detects fraud . . .
Instead of writing as regards, in reference to, with regard to, concerning the matter of, or where x is concerned, we could use about.
- Draft: The first observation I would like to make is in reference to contingency funds.
- Revision: The first observation I would like to make is about contingency funds.
Instead of writing it is crucial that, it is necessary that, there is a need for, it is important that, it is incumbent upon, or it cannot be avoided, we could use must or should.
- Draft: There is a need for more careful inspection of all teacher preparation programs.
- Revision: We must inspect all teacher preparation programs more carefully.
Instead of writing is able to, is in a position to, has the opportunity to, has the capacity for, or has the ability to, we could use can.
- Draft: We are in a position to make a recommendation that will improve the program.
- Revision: We can make a recommendation that will improve the program.
- Further revision: We can recommend an improvement for the program.
Instead of writing it is possible that, there is a chance that, it could happen that, or the possibility exists for, we could use may.
- Draft: It is possible that nothing will come of these findings.
- Revision: Nothing may come of these findings.
Instead of writing prior to or in anticipation of, we could use before.
- Draft: Prior to the expiration of the enrollment period, all forms must be submitted.
- Revision: Before the enrollment period expires . . .
3. Delete “Double Words”
The English language has a long tradition of unnecessarily doubling words. Among the common pairs are:
- Full and complete
- Each and every
- First and foremost
- Any and all
- Could and potentially
Here’s the secret to avoiding double words: pick one and delete the other.
4. Prune Redundant Modifiers
Get rid of words implied by other words. Finish implies complete, for example, so writing completely finish is redundant. Here are a few more examples:
- Basic implies fundamental, so basic fundamentals is redundant.
- Important implies essentials, so important essentials is redundant.
- Final implies outcome, so final outcome is redundant.
Other examples include true facts, future plans, consensus of opinion, sudden crisis, terrible tragedy, end result, direct confrontation, exact same, mutual cooperation, and initial preparation.
And here’s a pretty egregious example of redundant modifiers in action:
- Draft: The agencies have developed a joint, cooperative contingency plan for anticipating unexpected demands on their capacity and resources before all new upgrades can be made to their core, essential systems.
Notice how much better it is when we drop those redundancies:
- Revision: The agencies have developed a contingency plan to deal with unexpected demands on their resources before all upgrades can be made to their core systems.
5. Delete “Empty Nouns” and Overused Modifiers
Some modifiers are what we might call “verbal tics.” That is, they are words we use almost unconsciously. You can usually omit these. They include really, basically, definitely, actually, virtually, particular, different, and specific. For example:
- Draft: While this is generally seen as a logical approach that provides certain advantages, it has also practically reduced the agency’s ability to control its staff’s various day-to-day activities.
Look how much clearer it reads when we drop the empty nouns and meaningless modifiers:
- Revision: While some see this as a logical approach that provides advantages, it has also reduced the agency’s ability to control its staff’s day-to-day activities.
6. Be Cautious of Adverbs
In his book on writing, famed author of horror Stephen King cautions writers that “the road to hell is paved with adverbs.” If that helps you err on the side of caution when using adverbs, that’s fine. Commit it to memory. If you’re like me and appreciate a more nuanced approach, rest assured that while you can omit most adverbs without losing meaning, there are plenty of adverbs you should use in policy writing.
Probably the most egregious adverbs add redundancy. For example, if you were to write “constricted tightly,” the adverb tightly doesn’t add anything to the sentence because constricted already means “to make narrower” or “to tighten.” When you come across such adverbs in your writing, ask yourself whether the adverb is covered by the definition of the word it’s modifying. If you can delete the adverb without changing the meaning of the sentence, do it.
Other kinds of adverbs help hide the fact that you’re using the wrong verb. You could write, for instance, that a government agency “went too quickly” through the required process for procuring some new piece of equipment. Or you could say it “sped” through the process. If you can think of a verb that means the same thing as the verb plus adverb, go with the stand-alone verb.
You can also ditch adverbs that serve as intensifiers—completely, totally, absolutely. These sorts of adverbs are generally overused and don’t add much to a sentence. So too are adverbs that qualify the degree of an action—like somewhat or moderately. Writing that a regulation was “somewhat difficult to understand” can make you seem timid. Don’t get me wrong, though. There are times when you need to convey caution and uncertainty. All I ask is that you make sure you’re doing it intentionally and for good reason. The best advice I can give you for how to avoid unnecessary adverbs is to practice. Condition yourself to avoid them in your writing. This will take time and patience. Even after years of professional writing, useless adverbs still slip past me all the time. If you find you cannot stop yourself from using them, dedicate some time during the revision and editing process to finding and deleting them.
On the other hand, adverbs that add clarity or improve the flow of your writing are useful tools. For example, adverbs of time, place, and manner clarify when, where, and how something happened. If you think an adverb is working for you, that’s great. Keep it.
Another way to learn the difference between useful and unnecessary adverbs is from the supreme writing teacher: reading. Read great books, magazines, newspapers, and blogs. Read great sentences until you can tell when one isn’t. Read great paragraphs until their rhythms get stuck in your head. Only by reading can you know when an adverb belongs in a sentence and when it should be cut.
7. Avoid Unnecessarily Restating Words and Phrases
As we have seen, repeating key words and phrases is a way to let our reader know that the premise set forth in a topic sentence is supported in the sentences that follow. We do not, however, want to restate words or phrases that do not add meaning or that could be removed without losing meaning.
It is just as important to let the context establish the basis for our successive statements. If you properly identify the subject in the first sentence, it may be preferable to use a generic synonym or a pronoun in the second sentence, such as referring to the Social Security Administration as “the agency” or referring to “the former” of two already-named parties. Take this example:
- Draft: Child Protective Services agencies collect information about children who are maltreated—including children who have died from maltreatment—and the circumstances surrounding the maltreatment to aid efforts that prevent maltreatment.
The writer here has overused the word maltreatment. The writer was probably more concerned with being accurate than being concise. Here is a revision:
- Revision: To aid in prevention efforts, Child Protective Services agencies collect information about children who are maltreated—including children who have died—and the circumstances surrounding the maltreatment.
“Including children who have died” may not be an accurate rephrasing, though, if Child Protective Services only collects information on children who die because of maltreatment, as opposed to those who die because of accident or illness. A simple fix would be to fold (1) those children who are maltreated into (2) those who die as a result of their maltreatment:
- Revision: To aid prevention efforts, Child Protective Services agencies collect information about children who are harmed by or die from maltreatment.
8. Minimize the Use of Prepositional Phrases
What do you think when you read this sentence?
- Draft: In our interviews with officials in eight states, most could not accurately determine, based on the general definition in the law, which of their teachers met the new federal requirements.
How about now?
- Revision: In eight states, most officials we interviewed could not determine which of their teachers met the new federal requirements.
The first sentence has 6 prepositional phrases and 30 words; the second has 2 prepositional phrases and 19 words.
Besides length, what’s the difference? A well-structured sentence quickly directs the reader toward a main point—that is, Who is doing what? As we’ve seen, a sentence with too many prepositional phrases probably has a weak sentence core, which can leave the reader feeling lost at sea. If a sentence has more than three prepositional phrases—fronted by in, with, on, of, etc.—consider whether the reader might have difficulty focusing on your main point. The solution? Strengthen your sentence cores!
9. Combine Sentences to Avoid Repetitive Details
Wordiness also results from trying to pack too much information into one sentence or paragraph. Simple statements provide clarity, while too much detail in the wrong place can leave the reader confused.
- Draft: Over the last several years, the number of children for whom states receive reimbursements has declined. The average monthly number of children for whom states received reimbursements declined from about 200,000 in fiscal year 2007 to 169,000 in fiscal year 2013.
We could make this more concise by combining the two sentences:
- Revision: Over the last several years, the average monthly number of children for whom states received reimbursements has declined from about 200,000 in fiscal year 2007 to 169,000 in fiscal year 2013.
Or we could say:
- Further revision: From fiscal year 2007 to 2013, the average monthly number of children for whom states received reimbursements declined from about 200,000 to 169,000.
The key to this technique is to identify the information the sentences share and then delete the redundant parts. Then you can redraft a sentence with the unshared material that remains.
10. Make Your Point and Move On
Policy analysts sometimes struggle so mightily to make their point that they unnecessarily repeat it. It’s best to avoid that.
- Draft: Due to the fact that more pension plans have become insolvent, the total amount of financial assistance the agency has provided has increased markedly in recent years. Overall, for fiscal year 2014, the agency provided $90 million in total financial assistance in order to help 45 insolvent plans cover pension benefits for about 49,000 plan participants. Generally, since 2001, the number of plans needing financial assistance has steadily increased, as has the total amount of assistance the agency has provided each year, drawing down the agency’s insurance program funds. Moreover, the number of plans needing the agency’s help has increased significantly in recent years, from 23 plans in fiscal year 2008 to 59 plans in fiscal year 2014. Likewise, the amount of annual assistance the agency has issued to plans has increased, from about $60 million in fiscal year 2008 to about $105 million in fiscal year 2014. (148 words total)
In addition to using wordy phrases (Due to the fact that) and needless transition words— Overall, Generally, Moreover, and Likewise—the author of this paragraph has repeated two points over and over: (1) the total amount of financial assistance the agency has provided increased markedly in recent years, and (2) the number of plans needing financial assistance has steadily increased. The writer made those two points three separate times. Notice what happens when we combine the two points and then present the data that prove them:
- Revision: Because more pension plans have become insolvent in recent years, the total amount of financial assistance the agency has provided has increased as well. The number of plans needing the agency’s financial assistance has increased from 23 plans in fiscal year 2008 to 59 in fiscal year 2014. That year, the agency provided $105 million in total financial assistance—up from $60 million in fiscal year 2008—to help 59 insolvent plans cover pension benefits for about 49,000 plan participants. (80 words total)
The revised paragraph is more concise and easier to understand. In addition, it no longer needs those transition words stringing together redundant points.
11. Use Hedging Words Sparingly
In today’s world of six-second sound bites and rehearsed talking points, our institutional leaders perform verbal feats to escape having to tell us the truth—or even what they think. In his seminal text On Writing Well, William Zinsser tells us about “one classic offender” named Elliot Richardson, who held four cabinet posts in the 1970s. He’s famous for serving as President Richard Nixon’s attorney general and for resigning that position when the president asked him to fire those investigating the Watergate break-in. It’s hard to choose the foggiest from Richardson’s trove of equivocal statements, but Zinsser asks readers to consider this one: “And so, at last, I come to the one firm conviction that I mentioned at the beginning: it is that the subject is too new for final judgments.”
If every sentence we write expresses doubt, our writing will lack authority, and it won’t inspire confidence, nor will it persuade skeptical readers. To paraphrase Zinsser, if we bob and weave like aging boxers, we won’t inspire confidence. We won’t deserve it either. We can do better. Here are some common hedging words to look out for:
- Adverbs: usually, often, sometimes, almost, virtually, possibly, allegedly, arguably, perhaps, apparently, in some ways, to a certain extent, somewhat, in some/certain respects
- Adjectives: most, many, some, a certain number of
- Verbs: may, might, can, could, tend, suggest, imply
Because hedging words qualify certainty, they are essential to the work we do as policy analysts. All I ask is that we use them sparingly. And don’t hide behind them either. Save would, should, could, may, might, can, and other hedging words for situations involving real uncertainty.
Bonus Tip: Listen to George Orwell
“Political speech and writing,” Orwell wrote in his famous essay on politics and the English language, “are largely the defense of the indefensible.” To defend things like “the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan,” writers had to use, he argued, language that was “too brutal for most people to face.” So, instead, they chose vague euphemisms. Pacification, for example, sounded pleasant enough, but what that word really meant was “defenseless villages bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets.” Transfer of population was something one could say instead of admitting that “millions of peasants are robbed of their farms and sent trudging along the roads with no more than they can carry.” And if one eliminates unreliable elements, one need not mention the realities of people imprisoned “for years without trial, or shot in the back of the neck or sent to die of scurvy in Arctic lumber camps.”
Some institutions—especially governmental agencies—you’ll likely come across in your work as a policy analyst do this sort of thing on purpose, hoping that you’ll adopt their lexicon. Perhaps the most blatant example of this in recent memory is the language used at Guantanamo Bay detention facility. Since that facility opened its doors, military officials have developed their own lexicon to describe virtually everything that takes place there. For example, if a Guantanamo detainee attempts suicide, it’s called “self-injurious behavior.” Instead of shackles, military officials refer to the leg and wrist irons as “humane restraints.” “Force-feeding” has been replaced with the clinical “enteral feeding,” which replaced “assisted feeding.” Even the use of “detainee” as opposed to “prisoner” and “detention facility” instead of “prison” was carefully thought out.
In 2014 Cori Crider, the legal director of Reprieve, an organization in the United Kingdom that was representing more than a dozen Guantanamo prisoners at the time, told Vice News that she believed the euphemisms used at the prison were chosen to “whitewash some of the more sordid things going on, although often the effect was just to make them more sinister and Orwellian.” That same year Guantanamo Bay Detention Camp received the Vice News Award for “best use of deflective phrasing.”
“What is above all needed,” Orwell concluded, “is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around.”