language

More About Concrete Examples

Image Courtesy Evan Smogor on Unsplash

Visionary Writing Techniques #08

By John Onorato

When we use strong language skills — whether in writing or in speaking — we have a much better chance of getting what we want and need from people around us. Not only that, we have a much better chance of understanding … and being understood.

One way of examining the language you use is by its “concrete-ness.” Another way of putting this is Generality vs Specificity.

One of these kinds of language is likely to be understood. And the other is more likely to be MIS-understood.

In other words, the more specific and concrete your words are, the more vivid and clear the understanding of your reader.

Concrete and Abstract Terms

Abstract terms refer to concepts and ideas. They have no physical referents.

Please re-read that definition. It is vague and boring — and this is by design. Even if you do find it interesting, it will be hard to pin down why. We need examples — concrete examples to make this abstract language clearer.

“Love” is an abstract term. So is “freedom.” The words “something” and “someone” are similarly abstract. Yes, we generally agree on what they all mean, but the specific meaning for individual people is difficult to pin down, because it changes over time. A teenager will not have the same definition of love as a senior citizen who has been divorced twice already.

We need abstract terms, however, because we frequently talk about these concepts and ideas. Thus we need terms to represent them.

At the same time, long chains of abstract terms can be tiring. Boring. They’re useful in introductions and paragraph topic sentences. But they’re not going to make points clear or interesting by themselves.

Abstract terms name things unavailable to the senses, while concrete terms refer to events and objects which can be sensed. Examples of concrete terms include:

  • Fork
  • Countertop
  • Eyebrow Ring
  • Superhero Mask
  • Cold
  • Running

The meanings of these words are pretty stable, as they refer to objects we can hold and events we can see. I can pick up a fork and hand it to you, but I can’t show you a Freedom. I can’t point to a small Love crawling on the wall. I can measure air by weight or volume, but I can’t collect a liter of love or a pound of moral outrage.

Nailing it Down

Take the assertion “We all want success.” You may understand, and you may even agree with me. But success means different things to different people, so you can’t be sure about my precise meaning from the abstract term. On the other hand, if I say “I want a yacht and a mansion with two staircases,” you know exactly what I mean. At that point, you know if you agree with me (or not).

Can you see how concrete terms are both clearer and more interesting than abstract ones?

As effective writers and communicators, we need to use fewer abstract terms, and more concrete ones.

Specific Terms (and General Ones)

“Abstract” and “concrete” are opposites, more or less. But there is a significant range between “general” and “specific” terms.

Take the word “vehicle.” This is a very general term. Many different possibilities are contained within. Can you form an image of “vehicle”? You might see an ocean liner or an 18-wheeler. You might see your personal car, or the bike you rode this morning.

Even if you can create a distinct image in your mind, how likely is it your reader will come up with the same one?

“Vehicle” is a concrete term, as it points to an object we can see and feel. But its meaning is difficult to pin down, because the group is so large.

We can shrink the group with a more specific word: Boat. It’s still pretty general, as it still refers to a class of objects, rather than an individual object. Still, it’s easier to picture a boat than it is to visualize a vehicle.

The next step is “rowboat.” Our picture is getting clearer now. The images we form are likely to be fairly similar, and we’re likely to have similar associations (safety, smallness, has oars, used for fishing, etc). So this more specific term communicates more clearly than the less specific terms “vehicle” or “boat.”

We can get even more specific. Your boat can be a sailboat. It can be a blue and white sailboat. It can be a blue and white sailboat named “St. Marne.” It can be a blue and white sailboat named “St. Marne” that berths four people and has a Barbie doll lashed to the prow, like the figureheads of old.

Do you see how, by the time we get to the last description, we’re talking about an individual vehicle? A single, specific boat? Note how easy it is to see THAT boat in your mind.

In Other Words

In short, when you rely on general terms, your writing will be vague, lifeless, and dull. As your words become more specific, however, your meaning becomes clearer. Your writing becomes more interesting. When your writing is interesting, it’s more likely to be read.

And isn’t that what we all want?

You might wonder if you now have to stuff your writing full of detailed descriptors. Short answer: No. You don’t need modifiers to identify individuals: Mention Eckhart Tolle or Oprah Winfrey, and everyone knows who you mean. So too with Steve’s Suburban or the scar on Harry’s forehead.

Also, not everything needs to get the individual treatment all the time. We might need to know that Fred crossed the ocean in a boat, but we don’t always have to know what that boat looked like.

It’s all a matter of discernment at this point.

To Sum Up

I invite you to think back on what you’ve just read. What do you remember about it? Odds are you’ll recall the yacht and mansion, and the sailboat named “St. Marne.” Why is that? Because their meanings are clear. They create clear images in the mind.

Human brains are like that: It’s easier for them to recall images when they are linked with a distinct sense impression. This is why it’s easier to recall how you learned to swim than it is to remember when you learned about World War One.

Through our senses, we experience the world vividly. As infants, and before we learn words, we sense soft and rough, hot and cold, loud and silent. Our earliest words also also concrete: ball, nose, cup, Mommy. And we teach using concrete terms: “Where’s baby’s hand?” “Where’s the doggy?”

So why do we turn to generalizations and abstractions while we write?

Part of this answer has to do with our desire to pass on ideas and conclusions. We want to efficiently share the knowledge we’ve gained through hard work and pain. We don’t want to see others suffering, learning the same lessons we’ve learned the hard way. So we make generalizations: Instead of detailing all the trauma we’ve endured, we tell our children “You can’t always trust everyone.”

You went through a lot of pain to learn that lesson. You endured a lot of experiences both specific and concrete, yet you pass that lesson on with a few general words. Sure, we think we’re doing it right by passing on the lesson without all the hurt we endured to learn that lesson.

But I would posit that pain is a great teacher. The hurts teach the lesson, not the general terms.

Thus, “You can’t always trust everyone” might be a great phrase to use. It may be all you want your child (or reader) to grasp. But if you want to make that lesson clear, if you want to see your reader actually learn from your words, you have to relay the concrete, specific experiences.

Posted by John Onorato in Visionary, 0 comments
How to Kickstart Your Kindness

How to Kickstart Your Kindness

“Be kind whenever possible.  And it is always possible,” says the Dalai Lama.

So kindness is important, right?  

Of course it is!  After all, the Dalai Lama says so.

Kindness:  It’s a pillar of strong character.

Kindness:  It’s a big part of a balanced spiritual life.

Kindness:  It’s valued by every religion in the world, and every society.

We have all heard the saying “People may not remember what you say, or even what you do.  But they will remember how you make them feel.”

So the unspoken invitation is to help others feel how we ourselves want to feel.  I don’t know of a single person that truly wants to be treated badly or unkindly.

If we all want kindness, then why is practicing kindness so difficult?  Why do we not act kind more of the time?  Why do more of us not realize the benefits kindness brings to society and to the person being kind?  

After all, kindness is often its own reward.

Kindness Found in Words

One of the reasons kindness is so difficult is this:  In our English language, we do not have a word to express our happiness when other people succeed.

The fact we don’t have the word shows that we lack even the concept of an individual being happy when another person succeeds.  

two hands and a heart

The colloquial definition of “success” is often tied to a profit motive.  Even the dictionary (in this case, Google) ties the two together in the second definition of the word:  “Success: The attainment of popularity or profit.” And the third definition mentions “prosperity,” which is another word often tied to a profit motive.

Profit is fine.  I’m not here to judge anyone with a profit motive (or without one).  But I’ve observed that when you have that motive in mind, and someone fails to meet your expectations, the profit motive often becomes the most important thing.  When that happens, kindness disappears.

Kindness disappears when humans value profit over people.

Kindness disappears when we are taken advantage of.

Kindness disappears when we fail to consider others.

When we think that we are the only person in the world, kindness falls away.  If we really were the only person in the world, there would be no need to be kind (other than to ourselves).  

Of course, we are not the only person in the world.  On an Earth housing over seven and a half billion people, kindness is more important than ever.

Kindness In Languages

There’s a word in the German language — “schadenfreude.”  Literally meaning “damage joy,” it refers to the pleasure that we derive from another’s misfortune.  For example, we might feel a sense of schadenfreude when we learn our ex-boyfriend’s new relationship isn’t working out well.  Or that his house burned down. “He got what he deserved,” we think, not stopping to consider his inherent goodness, or how much trouble this caused him.

As an aside, English does indeed have an equivalent to this word, though it’s rather obscure.  Not nearly as well-known as its German cousin, the English word is “epicaricacy.”  The three parts of the word are Greek:  

  • Epi, meaning “upon”
  • Chara, meaning “joy”
  • Kakon, meaning “evil”  
globe encircled with country flags

There is another word in English that refers to the concept of being happy about the success of others.  That word is borrowed from the French, and it is “compersion.” The root “compère” means partner, or accomplice, and it comes from the Latin compater or compatrem (meaning “godfather”).  A relatively new word, its origins and full etymology are not clear.

I am very interested in language, and especially how it molds and shapes our brains.  So the fact that certain words even exist in a language often gives clues to how the speakers of that language behave.

The Sanskrit language originated in Ancient India over 3,500 years ago.  It is an old Indo-Aryan language, and is related to Greek and Latin. And of course, our own English language owes much to Greek and Latin.

There is a word in Sanskrit that means joy, especially vicarious or sympathetic joy.  It refers to the pleasure which springs from delighting in the well-being and successes of others.  

That word is “mudita.”

Sanskrit word "mudita"

Mudita is a joy that is pure, and not touched by self-interest.  One feeling mudita likely has no direct interest in, nor any direct income from the accomplishments of the other.  Think of the joy a parent might feel when they see their son walking for the first time. Or the feeling you might get when you watch your dog exuberantly playing with her rope toy.

Jealousy is an opposite (an antonym).  So is unfettered envy.

Though I’m not going to dive into Buddhism right now (I find myself to be an “Accidental Buddhist,” and I imagine I’ll write more about that later), I will say that many Buddhist teachers refer to mudita as an inner spring of infinite joy.  This is available to anyone, at any time.  “The more deeply one drinks of this spring,” it is written,  “the more secure one becomes in one’s own abundant happiness, the more bountiful it becomes to relish the joy of other people.”

I don’t know if anyone has done any scientific comparisons of overall happiness level of Sanskrit-speaking countries versus that of English-speaking countries.  But I’d be really interested in reading the results of one.

Where We’re Going, Where We Can Go

In our Western cultures, we are taught to value competition.  Struggling against others is supposed to be a fuel that pushes people towards ever-rising levels of success.  Indeed, many of our most visible industries, such as film, music and sports, all spotlight a culture built on the idea of achievement, no matter the cost.  No matter the hurt we cause, no matter how we might undermine someone else, no matter who we might step on in our quest to “reach the top.”

happy group with arc above

Yet out of the other side of our mouths, we profess to value peace.  We say that harmony is a lofty goal. We maintain that we are working together for a better future.

We can’t have it both ways, though.  The sad truth is that when humans are taught to value success at any cost, and excellence no matter the price, we get results that are not in line with what we’ve professed, as above.

I myself am not involved in any of those industries.  Still, I’m a freelance writer, and there is ostensibly plenty of competition in that field as well.  

What if it was better, though?  Success and abundance are not pie.  There’s not a finite amount of prosperity to go around.  We can all be successful, if we only listen to the truth in our hearts.  We can all be abundant.  We can all be prosperous. We can all be joyful, if only we choose it.

So the next time something nice happens to a coworker, try telling them “Hey, I’m really happy you got that promotion!”  The next time an acquaintance tells you they just won the lottery, try being pleased for their good fortune, and ask what they’re going to do with the money.  

In doing so, you just might change the world.  And that’s a world that I want to live in.

exuberant group
Posted by John Onorato in Blog, Relationships, 0 comments