In legal writing and communication, the debate of plain language versus traditional legalese has escalated into a religious war. On one side, the plain language crusaders fervently advocate for simplicity and accessibility, insisting that legal documents should be understandable to all. On the other side, the guardians of legalese staunchly defend the precision and tradition embedded in the sacred language of the law.
But what if this war is a false dichotomy? What if the true goal isn’t about choosing sides but about pursuing a more nuanced approach to communication?
In the following dialogue, the speaker presents a thesis that challenges this rigid binary. Rather than aligning with the dogmatic extremes of either plain language or legalese, he champions the broader and more pragmatic goal of clear communication. This conversation delves into the complexities of language, drawing on the insights of leading thinkers. Together, these perspectives explore how we can communicate more effectively—without sacrificing clarity, precision, or understanding—by rejecting the cultish devotion to one style over another.
Nathan-Ross: Here’s my thesis—I’m neither a plain language nor a legalese advocate; instead, I advocate for clear communication. Moreover, plain language isn’t the same as clear communication, though they are often conflated.
Interlocutor: That’s an interesting distinction. What exactly do you mean by that?
Nathan-Ross: What I mean is that plain language is just one tool among many for achieving clear communication, but it isn’t the whole picture. Plain language focuses on simplicity and accessibility, making sure that information is easy to understand for a wide audience. However, simplicity doesn’t always guarantee clarity, especially in complex fields like law, where precision and nuance are crucial.
Interlocutor: Tell me more about why you frame the tension between these concepts as a “religious war”.
Nathan-Ross: Plain language and legalese have become almost cultish in their adherence. On one side, we have the zealots of plain language, who believe that all complexity is a sin against clarity. On the other, we have the disciples of legalese, who treat traditional legal jargon as sacred scripture, immune to modern criticism. But both camps miss the point. The ultimate goal should be clear communication, not blind devotion to one method or the other.
Interlocutor: But doesn’t plain language make things more accessible to everyone?
Nathan-Ross: It can, but let’s not pretend it’s a panacea. The plain language cultists would have you believe that if you just simplify everything, clarity will miraculously appear. Joseph Kimble, one of their high priests, argues that plain language democratises information. But in reality, this approach can be just as dogmatic and restrictive as the worst legalese. Spinoza, who valued clarity and truth, would turn in his grave at how oversimplification can distort complex ideas, especially in fields like law where nuance and precision are everything.
Interlocutor: Can you give me a practical example of this?
Nathan-Ross: Sure. Take the phrase “indemnify and hold harmless” in a legal contract. The plain language brigade might reduce this to “cover any costs or damages”. But that loses the full meaning—these words have been honed over centuries of legal practice. Stripping them down to something more understandable can introduce dangerous ambiguities. It’s like translating a religious text into emojis—something’s bound to get lost. Voltaire warned that “perfect is the enemy of good”, and here, striving for perfect simplicity can actually undermine the good we’re trying to achieve.
Interlocutor: So, you’re saying plain language might not always be precise enough?
Nathan-Ross: Precisely. Kenneth Adams, a critic of both extremes, emphasises that plain language can fail to capture essential nuances. Allow me an example: telling a patient to “take the medication three times a day” might sound clear, but it’s dangerously vague. Does it mean morning, noon, and night? With or without food? Simplifying this could be life-threatening. In legal documents, reducing complex terms to simplistic language risks creating loopholes or misunderstandings. It’s like the plain language cultists want us all to believe in a fantasy world where complexity doesn’t exist.
Interlocutor: What about legalese, then? Isn’t it all about precision?
Nathan-Ross: Ah, legalese—the sacred language of the legal clerics. It’s precision, yes, but also exclusionary by design (a view shared by Cheryl Stephens). Richard Wydick also criticises legalese for being a barrier, not a bridge. Consider the phrase “hereinbefore mentioned”. It’s a verbal relic, a shibboleth that separates the initiated from the uninitiated. It’s as if the legalese devotees are guarding their holy texts, afraid that any change might weaken their power. As such, legal writers like Michèle Asprey argue that legal writing should be clear, concise, and accessible, challenging the traditional view that legalese is necessary for precision. Yet, I must concede that some legal terms, like “force majeure”, are irreplaceable. These words have specific, complex meanings that can’t be translated into plain language without losing their essence.
Interlocutor: So, are you against legalese entirely?
Nathan-Ross: Not entirely. I’m against legalese when it becomes a form of linguistic gatekeeping—designed more to confuse than to clarify. But I recognise, as Adams and Wydick do, that some traditional legal terms are necessary and can’t be easily replaced with simpler language. In my view, the key is to avoid worshipping these terms as sacred relics and instead use them judiciously, in the service of clarity. Voltaire’s call to define our terms is particularly relevant here—let’s not shroud meaning in mystery. For instance, “consideration” in contract law is a term with no plain language equivalent that carries the same weight and significance. The legalese cultists would do well to remember that the law serves the people, not the other way around.
Interlocutor: So, it’s about adapting to the context?
Nathan-Ross: Exactly. Clear communication is a dynamic process. It’s not about following the dogma of plain language or legalese but about understanding your audience and the context. If I’m drafting a contract for legal professionals, I’ll use the appropriate legal terminology because it’s precise and universally understood within that community. But if I’m writing for a general audience, I’ll translate those concepts into more relatable terms. Steven Pinker, a cognitive scientist, argues for clarity that guides the reader without overwhelming them. We should be neither plain language missionaries nor legalese monks, but rather communicators who adapt to our audience and our goals.
Interlocutor: But doesn’t that mean plain language is sometimes the best approach?
Nathan-Ross: It often is, particularly in consumer contracts (B2C) where clarity and simplicity are crucial. But even here, we must be careful not to oversimplify to the point where the message loses its intended meaning. The plain language faithful argue that simplicity equals clarity, but George Orwell, in his essay “Politics and the English Language”, warns us about the dangers of oversimplification. To echo Spinoza, the clarity of thought must be matched by the clarity of expression, without sacrificing the depth of the ideas themselves.
Interlocutor: So, in the end, it’s about balancing plain language with the necessary complexity to maintain clarity?
Nathan-Ross: Exactly. Clear communication isn’t about choosing between plain language and legalese; it’s about rejecting the cult-like devotion to either and instead using the right approach for the right situation. It’s about making sure the message is understood as intended, whether that requires simplicity, complexity, or a mix of both. For instance, in drafting terms and conditions for a website, plain language should dominate, but where legal requirements demand specific language, it should be included with clear explanations where possible. Pinker’s insights into the need for empathetic communication remind us that language serves a purpose beyond the dogma of its adherents. Voltaire’s call to “define our terms” and Paine’s belief in the power of clear, accessible communication are reminders that the integrity of the message must be maintained while ensuring it is accessible. This way, we preserve the truth and clarity of our ideas, making them both understandable and meaningful.
