Academia’s Vocabulary Problem: Why We Keep Talking Past Each Other
Academia is a place of precision. A single word can carry decades of theory, and entire arguments can hinge on how one term is defined. But in our pursuit of rigour, we’ve developed a habit that’s perhaps undermining our ability to communicate. Even with each other.
We’ve created vocabularies so specialised, so insular, that they can obscure meaning instead of clarifying it.
The result is, that even within the walls of universities, we’re often talking past each other.
When Language Becomes a Gate, Not a Bridge
Disciplinary language is meant to be useful. Shorthand for complex ideas, a way to speak with nuance and specificity. But over time, it tends to turn inward. Words like “discourse,” “liminality,” “intersectionality,” or “instrumentalism” can be incredibly powerful… if you know what they mean in context.
But step outside that context? Even slightly?
And suddenly, the word that once sharpened meaning becomes a fog.
Jargon isn’t bad in itself. of course. But it’s what happens when we forget that words only work if your reader understands them. Academic writing is often praised for sounding complex but complexity isn’t the same as clarity.
If your writing only works for someone who shares your theoretical priors, are you communicating or performing?
Talking Past Each Other in the Same Building
Ask a sociologist and a psychologist to define “agency,” and you’ll get different answers. Ask an economist and a political theorist what they mean by “rational,” and you might spark a debate that spans paradigms.
Even within the same university, across different faculties, basic terms don’t always translate. This can make collaboration across disciplines feel like crossing a border with no phrasebook. Familiar terrain, unfamiliar language.
And it’s not just cross-disciplinary. Even within a single field, sub-communities develop their own micro-languages. Sometimes they signal rigour or group belonging. Sometimes they just signal that you’ve read the right people.
Writing for Reviewers vs Writing for Readers
Peer review incentivises conformity. There’s a reason most academic writing ends up sounding the same. You’re writing to satisfy a small group of reviewers trained to look for very specific cues… citations, phrasing, frameworks. So we write defensively. We use language that reassures. That shows we’re fluent in the expected dialect.
But what if our actual goal is communication? What if we want to reach outside our immediate discipline - to policy-makers, practitioners, or other researchers who work on similar problems but speak a slightly different language?
In that case, we have to unlearn the urge to impress and rediscover the purpose of writing, being to convey meaning.
Four Small Shifts That Make a Big Difference
If you want your writing to connect, not just conform, here are four practical shifts you can make:
Define your terms — even the ones that feel obvious.
If a key concept is central to your argument, explain how you’re using it. Don’t assume your reader brings the same assumptions.Write for the interested outsider.
Imagine a smart, curious reader from another discipline. If your argument still makes sense to them, it’s probably clear.Use fewer abstractions than you think you need.
If you find yourself stacking three abstract nouns in a sentence, try replacing one with a concrete example.Ask someone outside your field to read a draft.
If they can’t follow the logic or get stuck on your terminology, that’s a signal. Not that your ideas are wrong, but that your language may be getting in the way.
Creating Shared Meaning
Academia thrives on precision but not on opacity. The goal isn’t to flatten complexity into simplicity, but to express it in a way that invites understanding.
Specialised language can be beautiful, powerful, and necessary. But if we’re not careful, it stops being a tool and becomes a barrier. And when scholars talk past each other, we miss the chance to build on each other’s work or to create something entirely new together.
As you write, ask yourself… Am I trying to prove I belong? Or am I trying to make meaning?
The best academic writing does both. But when in doubt, choose clarity.
