Orwellian Wisdom

Certain texts repeatedly come up in any discussion of persuasive communications.

Aristotle’s works on logic and rhetoric top the list for obvious reasons, as do historic speeches by great writers and orators such as Winston Churchill and Martin Luther King.

But an essay by George Orwell, called Politics and the English Language, also tends to be discussed frequently when critical thinking, rhetoric (or whatever else you want to call the subject under discussion at this site) turns to political matters. 

Orwell’s brilliance as a political and literary thinker provides enough reason for his work to show up in so many different areas of learning.  And his accessibility (particularly through his fictional works such as Animal Farm and 1984, which many of us were introduced to in High School) also accounts for his name being so frequently invoked in political discussion.

I also suspect that as an anti-totalitarian Socialist, Orwell is hard to claim exclusively by either Left or Right, both of which utilize his name and work (often to condemn what they perceive to be the ultimate end point of the other side’s political trajectory).  And given how much these two poles have come to define the boundaries and dynamics of political debate for the last century, it’s at least good to know that a writer who transcends such a dichotomy still resonates with today’s readers (and thinkers).

A quote from Politics and the English Language that frequently makes an appearance is Orwell’s translation of an honest (if hideous) political sentiment into contemporary, immoral double-speak:

Consider for instance some comfortable English professor defending Russian totalitarianism.  He cannot say outright, “I believe in killing off your opponents when you can get good results by doing so.”  Probably, therefore, he will say something like this:

“While freely conceding that the Soviet regime exhibits certain features which the humanitarian may be inclined to deplore, we must, I think, agree that certain curtailment of the rights to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of transitional periods, and that the rigors which the Russian people have been called upon to undergo have been amply justified in the sphere of concrete achievement.”

This excerpt alone is enough to demonstrate the decrepitude of language Orwell was warning about, but reading through his essay from start to finish, you realize that he is not just discussing the symptoms but also the cause of this disease.  And this cause is the understandable desire to make ones writing seem more informed and well thought through than it is by stringing together “strips” of pre-fabricated or pre-digested words or groups of words (which might be clichés, but may also be acceptable but overused phrases or metaphors), rather than actually knowing what you want to say and putting the time, effort and thought into figuring out how to say it well.

One doesn’t need to tune into the latest presidential speech or candidate debate to see this stringing together of reasonable-sounding but utterly vacuous language as a substitute for serious thought and honest communication.  Anyone who has worked in an office setting will immediately recognize it in the language of the corporate memo whose writer can’t bring him or herself to simply say: “The strategy we decided to follow last year was a failure, so we’re going to abandon it and try something else.”  (As opposed to the much more familiar “Market conditions have changed over the last 12-18 months, which require us to review all initiatives underway within the organization.  And while not diminishing our commitment to key market opportunities and methods of achieving them with which stakeholders are already aware, current plans are to broaden our existing strategies to encompass new alternatives that will help us maximize value for our customers, employees and shareholders.”)

But modern politics adds a new twist to the subject of Orwell’s warnings: the use of science (or more specifically, scientific polling and statistical analysis) designed to determine exactly which points and what phraseology will get the biggest rise (and produce the fewest “negatives”) within a well-honed and audience-tested speech.  In other words, science – which helps us reach precision and accuracy in so many other endeavors – in politics is being used to ensure that meaningless or deceptive language will still sound correct and honest to certain audiences. 

A way out of this trap for ourselves is to follow Orwell’s suggestion and begin our thinking about an argument not by selecting language that seems convincing, but by truly thinking through what we are trying to achieve.  And once that’s been accomplished, we should choose the fewest, clearest and shortest words needed to communicate our message, ornamenting language (if necessary) with vivid and original images and metaphors, rather than tired clichés. 

And as consumers of persuasive communication, we should stay on high alert for dying metaphors (play into the hands of, grist for the mill, anytime soon…), verbal false limbs (render inoperative, be subjected to, exhibit a tendency towards…), pretentious diction (categorical, virtual, ameliorate, extraneous), and meaningless words (or at least words that clearly mean more than one thing being used definitively, such as democracy and patriotism). 

While it might be a challenge to tap into the wisdom of thinkers who wrote in the 400s BCE in an age when we think we have all the answers, it’s worth listening to someone speaking to use from a “mere” 66 years ago who clearly understands us better than we understand ourselves.