Precise language is great when you have a precise message. Often what we are trying to convey is itself not precise.
If words paint mental pictures, then precise language is like sending a photograph where everything is in full focus. It’s great in that there’s a lot of information there, but it’s not always clear what to do with it and focusing on the wrong bits can get in the way of an important message.
Instead you can turn down the depth of field such that the only thing in any focus is the object you’re pointing at—and even then only in sufficient detail to identify it and no more. Then you have no choice but to recognize the actual intended message because you were careful not to dilute your point with extraneous information that often comes with careless use of language.
If I’m pointing out a tiger, not only do I want to make sure you don’t get distracted looking at the flowers, I want to make sure you can’t argue with me over which kind of tiger it is if I happen to guess wrong.
Precise language is great when you have a precise message. Often what we are trying to convey is itself not precise.
If words paint mental pictures, then precise language is like sending a photograph where everything is in full focus. It’s great in that there’s a lot of information there, but it’s not always clear what to do with it and focusing on the wrong bits can get in the way of an important message.
Instead you can turn down the depth of field such that the only thing in any focus is the object you’re pointing at—and even then only in sufficient detail to identify it and no more. Then you have no choice but to recognize the actual intended message because you were careful not to dilute your point with extraneous information that often comes with careless use of language.
If I’m pointing out a tiger, not only do I want to make sure you don’t get distracted looking at the flowers, I want to make sure you can’t argue with me over which kind of tiger it is if I happen to guess wrong.