adequately describe second cousin twice removed would be to say that Mike is the grandson of Opah’s son and Frieda is the great-great granddaughter of Opah’s daughter. There are other choices as well. Perhaps you are not interested in Opah. You may just want to know that Mike is my son and Frieda is the granddaughter of my cousin. Of course, you could not understand this statement if the word “cousin” was not part of your knowledge of family jargon.

The discussions that take place amongst the staff of the Exploratorium in figuring out how to write the “What’s Going On” labels for our exhibits are even more involuted and often more ridiculous than the above deliberations on second cousin twice removed, but are nevertheless required.

Ingenuity is always required in order to communicate without a familiar language. I remember needing horseshoeing tools when my horse lost a shoe in a Spanish-speaking
section of New Mexico. I needed a rasp, claw hammer and hoof nippers. I did not know the jargon in Spanish. I did not even know the Spanish word for “horseshoeing tools.” After several futile attempts at talking and gesturing with a farmer, I went around behind him, backed up to him and picked up his leg and clamped it between my thighs just above the knees, as one does with the back foot of a horse. I them hammered the sole of his shoe with my fist. It worked. I had explained what I wanted to the uninitiated.

The precision of jargon does not exceed the extraordinary potential for precision that is inherent in all language. Yet in too many instances jargon is now substituted for our more versatile English when there is no particular advantage in doing so. It is then used for reasons of laziness or ignorance, and this excessive use therefore degrades the respect for and the dignity of
our language.