I was in high school when I almost failed an important exam because I wanted to sound smart. I had memorised some complicated phrases, glued them onto the page, and hoped I’d make an impression. I didn’t.
Despite my youth, I had a faint intuition during the exam that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t doing the right thing by using big words I didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t about plagiarising anyone, as I wasn’t reproducing whole fragments. But I was using fancy phrasing and producing an ambiguous text.
When I got the exam results, I was disappointed but not surprised. I didn’t need an explanation for the low grade. My big words were not mistaken for knowledge. And I learned that sounding smart is not the same as being trusted.
Nowadays, a lot of corporate language and business communication is driven by the desire to sound smart. Think strategy decks full of abstractions, websites that say everything except what the brand does, or reports that hide uncertainty behind jargon.
People use abstract language and complicated phrases, thinking that it’s a marker of complex, knowledgeable thinking. It’s not.
Confident communication is clear and concise. Experts shouldn’t be afraid to write in easily understandable language. In fact, explaining things simply is a sign of true expertise. Only when you understand a concept deeply can you simplify, summarise, and break it down into digestible pieces.
People trust what they can understand. They might admire verbosity — unfortunately, the school system (especially the one I grew up in) has taught us to look up to endless commentary that sounds intellectual. But they won’t spend too much of their attention, time, and money on it.
People trust those who make themselves understood. Who communicate with empathy. Who speak on the same level, not from a high horse.
Listen to popular politicians. To entrepreneurs who can sell ice at the North Pole. To authors who get read like crazy. To teachers who can keep restless children engaged. I bet you can find some things in common. Their message is clear and tailored to their audience. They’re not focused on sounding smart, but on connecting with those in front of them and relaying their story efficiently.
Sounding smart may feel good for the person communicating, but it has surprisingly little relevance for the people listening. Trust, on the other hand, is a two-way exchange. And once it’s there, it opens far more doors than clever phrasing ever could.
This week’s writing prompt
Where in your work do you default to complexity?
Take something you’ve written recently and rewrite it in plain language. Remove, simplify, explain differently.
Wanting to sound smart is natural. But really sounding smart is different from what’s commonly assumed. If you’d like more practice in discovering your voice and getting the confidence to communicate clearly, you might enjoy this writing toolkit (or simply flip through the writing challenge I posted here last October).