When I started my master's at NYU, and sat at that very first seminar table, I didn't understand a word anyone was saying.
It felt like an SNL parody! Professors and students alike seemed to share a secret language where they were competing to sound brilliant, casually tossing out words and phrases like "discursive praxis" and "intersubjectivity” and "evidentiary.” As a big reader, with a big vocabulary, let’s just say I was humbled (though at the time, ashamed might be the better word for how I felt).
Years later, when I was raising money for my first company Uplift, I walked into investor meetings and had a very similar experience: “KPIs” and “OKRs” - are any of these really that “mission-critical” or our “north star”? Methinks not.
(Side note: there are some hilarious corporate jargon meme accounts like THIS one that make me laugh out loud every time I read a post).
Seriously, though, I get it - I don’t blame any individual for incorporating this stuff. It’s human nature to want to be part of a community, and literally speak the same language as those around us, or those we look up to.
The problem is, these communities can feel like a fraternity in multiple senses - completely exclusionary to the people who didn’t have the privilege of coming up inside their rarified walls. It makes it incredibly difficult and intimidating for the rest of us to join - it seems to show who “belongs” in the room. Perhaps, in some circles, that’s the point - but that’s an article for another day.
Bottom line: can’t we just say what we mean more simply, without trying to sound smart or important?
Most of the founders I work with never got an MBA. They're new leaders, authors, nonprofit execs, solopreneurs and creatives, and many of them build with more clarity - and PASSION - than people fluent in the jargon.
Take it from me: you don't need the vocabulary - all you need is the truth about yourself and the world around you. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!