top of page

From insider language to inclusive communication

Email text with abbreviations: requiring SLA, ETA for PSO MSA RFP urgently. Mentions syncing with teams, sending FYIs, and adding a presentation.

There’s a moment in many companies when communication quietly stops being something people share and starts becoming something they decode.


It happens so gradually that almost nobody notices. One team invents a shorthand. Another team copies it. A leader drops three acronyms into a presentation slide, and everyone nods as though the meaning is obvious. But somewhere along the way, communication stops being a shared language and becomes a private code.


Inside the system, that private code feels efficient, but outside of it, it feels like trying to follow a story where half the words have been replaced with symbols.


And that’s where something subtle begins to slip, not in how fast people communicate, but in how well they understand each other.



When language starts serving the speaker, not the message


Acronyms are not the villain of the story. Used well, they are practical. They save time. They reduce repetition. They help people move through familiar terrain more quickly. In that sense, they are part of how organizations create momentum.


The issue begins when shorthand is no longer used intentionally, but automatically. When that happens, language shifts its role. It stops being a bridge between people and becomes more of a signal – of experience, of belonging, of being “in the know.” It begins to suggest that the speaker belongs, that they are busy, or that they know the system well enough not to explain it.


This is where communication starts to thin out and lose its balance. What looks like efficiency is often just compression. What looks like fluency can quietly become exclusion.



What looks efficient often hides friction


On the surface, acronym-heavy communication looks like speed. Messages are shorter, meetings move faster, and documentation feels more compact. Nobody budgets for acronym overload, but it is expensive. That surface-level efficiency often masks a different kind of cost, one that shows up in small, repeated moments.


It costs time, because someone pauses to interpret a sentence before responding. It costs confidence because a new joiner hesitates to ask what something means. It costs clarity, because a cross-functional team often aligns on a term, but not always on its meaning.


And this, my gentle reader, is how communication becomes much heavier without anyone explicitly noticing.



When understanding becomes uneven


Halfway through this pattern, something more structural begins to happen.

Language starts to distribute understanding unevenly, and over time, that imbalance begins to affect inclusion. Language that only insiders understand creates a soft hierarchy between those who are comfortable and those who are still trying to orient themselves.


A man in a blue shirt, wearing glasses, writes with a pen, appearing focused. A laptop is nearby, with pens in the foreground.

Some people move through it effortlessly because they’ve been part of the system long enough to internalize its shortcuts. Others, often equally capable, spend additional energy just to keep up. Not because the ideas are complex, but because the language surrounding them assumes familiarity.


This creates a (subtle) hierarchy. Not of intelligence or capability, but of access, and unlike formal hierarchies, this one is rarely acknowledged. It simply exists in the background, shaping who speaks confidently, who asks questions, and who stays quiet.



Why this matters more now than before


In a more contained work environment, this kind of friction could remain manageable. People had time to ask, clarify, and align in real time, simply - context was easier to rebuild. But that is no longer the case.


Work now moves across teams, time zones, and platforms. Messages are read between meetings, on smaller screens, and often without the full context in which they were created. And so, communication is no longer supported by physical proximity; it has to stand on its own.

In that kind of environment, language becomes infrastructure, and infrastructure has to work for everyone, not just for the people who helped build it.


That is what makes inclusive communication so important. It is not about polishing the tone or sanding off every sharp edge. It is about making meaning accessible, about reducing the distance between the sender’s intention and the reader’s understanding.


It is no longer just a tool for expressing ideas; it's the mechanism through which work actually moves. And like any mechanism, it either reduces friction or adds to it.



The corporate habit, and the small business imitation


This is not only a big-company problem. In larger organizations, acronym-heavy language often develops as a response to real complexity, and when systems, processes, and structures multiply, shorthand becomes a survival tactic for managing that complexity.


In smaller businesses, the pattern is different, and the adoption of corporate-style language is often aspirational. It creates a sense of structure, and of operating at a higher level because it sounds more strategic, more mature, more “serious.” But in doing so, it can introduce unnecessary distance between the message and the recipient, making communication ultimately ineffective.


Two colleagues high-five at a desk with papers, laptop, and mugs. Bright office with brick wall and window. Happy and positive mood.

What gets lost here is one of the greatest advantages smaller organizations have: clarity.

Because a small business rarely needs more complex language, it thrives on precise, direct communication that allows people to move quickly without translation.



What inclusive communication actually requires


Inclusive communication is not about removing every acronym or simplifying every idea. It is about making deliberate choices about how meaning is carried.


This starts with a simple shift in perspective.

Instead of asking, “Does this sound right to me?” the question becomes, “Will this be immediately clear to the person reading it?” or “Would a new colleague understand this without needing a glossary?


That shift changes how language is used, and it encourages people to introduce terms before shortening them. To consider who the message is for, not just what it needs to say. To recognize when familiarity is being mistaken for clarity.


Over time, these small adjustments compound into a communication style that travels well across contexts, rather than staying confined to one.



A few habits worth keeping


A better communication culture often starts with very modest discipline and low-effort habits that reshape how messages are constructed:

  • Spell out the term the first time it appears

  • Use acronyms only when they are widely understood by the intended audience

  • Avoid stacking too many abbreviations in one sentence or slide

  • Replace jargon with plain language wherever possible

  • Review important messages once from the perspective of someone new


That last one is often the most revealing. If a message can survive a cold read by a newcomer, it is probably doing its job.


Person holds phone and types on laptop displaying a chat app in a cozy cafe. Jar of iced tea and blurred figure in background.

This does not require rewriting everything. It only requires noticing when understanding depends on prior knowledge that may not be there, and that awareness alone is often enough to significantly improve clarity.



A practical filter for everyday communication

Here is the simplest test:

If the acronym saves more time for the writer than it does for the reader, it is probably not the right choice.


That one line cuts through a lot of unnecessary business language. It reminds us that communication is not meant to impress the people already in the room. It is meant to bring more people into the room, more fully, more quickly, and with less confusion.



The real shift behind the words


Moving from insider language to inclusive communication is not about making business sound less intelligent. It is about changing how effectively it operates.

When communication is clear, people spend less time interpreting and more time acting. Decisions align more easily, and collaboration becomes smoother. New ideas integrate faster because they do not have to pass through layers of translation.


Because the strongest communication is not the kind that proves how fluent the organization is in its own code, it is the kind that helps people do their work, understand the direction, and feel like they belong in the conversation.


In the end, what makes communication truly inclusive is not that everyone hears the same words, but that everyone can use them. And in that sense, clarity is not only a practical advantage, but it’s a form of leadership.



Stay magical,

M.

Comments


bottom of page