They are the ear-wrenching, jaw-jangling junk of the scientific world, the poly-syllabic, hexa-enjargonated children of the refereed journal. Cobbled higgledy-piggledy, these stacks of Greek and Latin roots are primed with prefixii and capped with suffixii.
Some of these mongrelized mutants say the uber-obvious: Does “biomedicine” not equal “medicine”?
More of them seem to say the obscure, redundant or ridiculous, like “biomolecular medicine.” Eh?
Did ancient civilizations follow astrolacism to find their way around? Photo: Gerard Mercator
You don’t need much experience reading science to adopt a love-hate relationship with the incessant onslaught of obscurity: Some of these terms, like “decadal mean,” (average temperature during a specific 10-year period) have real utility and no synonyms, and you’d best learn them and soldier on.
Others seem mainly designed to serve as scientific ownership flags staked by the first to discover a phenomenon — whether it’s actually new or not.
Don’t get us wrong: To science, jargon is no less essential than measurement or theory. It allows quick, precise communication. (Imagine having to say, “the addition of hydrogen” every time you meant “hydrogenation,” or “related to quick movements of chunks of Earth’s crust” instead of “seismic.”)
But we Why Filers are not the only scientific tourists who think the enjargonators have run amok. Not every new concept needs a new term — let alone several new terms that precipitate a scientific row over who got there first.
Evidence of early-onset electrostatic compulsion? Photo: Steve Paine
And at a time when record numbers of people communicate in English, and that well-known tongue is the standard language for many scientific papers, why must every new hunk of jargon originate in Greek or Latin — or preferably both?
We could go on to decry the esthetic obnoxion of fabrications like “pharmacological,” which often could be replaced by the rather simpler “drug.”
Enough whining. We must move to today’s challenge:
Below, we’ve briefly defined some scientific jargon. Please tell us which are real, and which we concocted.
Positive “JargoPro” points are awarded for obscurity, over-reliance on Greek and Latin, length (measured in syllables), a grating quality on the ear, and esthetic points for excessive use of linguistic force.
Negative “JargoCon” points go to ease of pronunciation and a heightened chance that mere mortals may comprehend and even pronounce the term.
- Pharmaco-optimalic (concerning the visual presentation of drugs)
- JargoPro: Nice use of multiple obscure roots; ambiguity (does “optimalic” refer to a state of mind, or to optics)?
- JargoCon: Rather straightforward pronunciation.
- Phyto-viability (ability of soils to promote plant survival)
- JargoPro: Incorporates the Greek “Ph” phoneme instead of the more familiar Anglo-Saxon “f”; also grating on the ear.
- JargoCon: Use of hyphen fosters understanding; perilously comprehensible to the one percent who recognize “phyt” as the Greek root for “plant.”
- Electrostatic compulsion (gravitational pull between silicon-powered screens and human minds)
- JargoPro: The adjective seems familiar, but is tantalizingly obscure.
- JargoCon: Condition is so common that readers may jump to the correct conclusion about meaning, always a negative to a jargoneer!
- Stoichiometry (related to the proportions of chemical elements in a chemical reaction)
- JargoPro: Symmetrical, reverse-reiteration of “oi” as “io”; essentially unpronounceable.
- JargoCon: Fundamental concept, so the term may be necessary.
- Polymorphism (taking several different shapes)
- JargoPro: Elegant concatenation of the Greeks: “poly” (many) and “morph” (shape).
- JargoCon: At four syllables, syllabically deficient, thus impairing incomprehensibility.
- Astrolacism (use of stars as fixed points in geography)
- JargoPro: Suffic-ates with the opaque “-ism”; exploits confusion between astronomy and astrology.
- JargoCon: Some people will understand “astro” as related to astronomy, and therefore stars.
- Longitudinal (variations over time)
- JargoPro: Easily dropped into an otherwise-comprehensible sentence; also may confuse geographers who think it refers to imaginary, north-south lines on maps.
- JargoCon: Easy to pronounce, so long as you catch the soft “g”
- Gastrophrenology (study of the correlation between microstructures in the small intestine and surface of the cranium)
- JargoPro: Strong reliance on dead languages for roots; induces guilt — is this something your doctor warned about last year?
- JargoCon: Although “phren” is satisfyingly opaque, “gastro” may give away at least part of meaning.
- Etiological (related to causes)
- JargoPro: Enviable compression of six syllables in 11 letters; tricky pronunciation leads with a long “E” where a short “e” is expected.
- JargoCon: Basic meaning is accessible to all; streamlined American spelling avoids the “we’re Brits so we can add letters whenever we want” blighted spelling “aetiological.”
Did this plant succumb to poor phyto-viability or just neglect? Photo: pete_pick
Are the differently colored heads of these gouldian finches an example of polymorphism or did one just get into the hair dye? Nigel Jacques
– David J. Tenenbaum
Tags: April fool's, science humor parody, science jargon, scientific process method theory
