sesquipedalianism

OK, this is a joke, right?

Definition of sesquipedalianism:
“[fr. L. sesquipedalis, of a foot and a half in length] n. a long word adj. 1) given to the use of long words 2) polysyllabic” (answers.com)

Where I ran across it:
Dick Cavett’s NY Times online blog “Memo to Petraeus and Crocker: More Laughs Please,” dated April 11, 2008.

“…As speakers, both Petraeus and Crocker are guilty of unbearable sesquipedalianism, a word wickedly inflicted on me by my English-teaching mother…”

My two cents:
I want to be clear. This blog is not about praising/endorsing the biggest or most obscure words – or making fun of them – in an attempt to impress. It’s about delighting in discovery, and making choices. I love finding words I don’t know and discovering what they mean. Knowing a word, however, does not obligate a person to use it. Ever. In fact, I believe that artful communicators have a moral obligation to exercise restraint, choosing their words creatively, carefully, wisely. That, my friends, is the challenge. So I’m delighted to discover the word, sesquipedalianism. In the same breath, I can safely predict that I will not use this – or any other 8-syllable behemoth – in any regard other than, say, a blog like this one that marvels at the existence of such a thing and then, blessedly, moves on.

I wish more people thought this way. Regrettably, some folks subscribe to the more-is-more/ bigger-is-better philosophy of writing and speaking. The military, for one. And Dick Cavett takes them on, good and proper: “It’s like listening to someone speaking a language you only partly know. And who’s being paid by the syllable.”

Let me just say that while Cavett is one of my favorite writers, I have mixed feelings about parts of his blog that seem downright mean-spirited. You should read it yourself, and come to your own conclusion. He jumps on Gens. Petraeus and Crocker with both feet – one foot squarely on their tortured delivery, and the other foot on their military ribbons and medals. Even if the highly decorated generals do come across as rather imperious, so does Cavett, who should exercise some restraint of his own and leave the men to their hard-earned honors, while rightly taking aim on their oddball, overbearing “military-speak.” However, if one can forgive and forget long enough to get through the entire article, it’s possible to acknowledge Cavett’s observations on the curious syntax of the military, as well as police and fire personnel. Quoting those who insist on engaging in sesquipedalianism (using “large words when smaller ones will do,”) Cavett romps and stomps over his subjects in a veritable malign-fest of the linguistically misguided. I have to admit it’s pretty spot-on, a handbook of “don’ts” for writers and speakers of every ilk.

As the speaker at my son’s graduation from high school wisely said, “If you can’t be a positive role model, it’s possible to be an effective negative role model, too. You can be of service to people just by allowing them to witness how not to behave.”