White Lies in Adjectives
There are many rules for good writing. One rule is to use active verbs (i.e. Dan ate an apple). Another rule is to use adjectives sparingly. Another rule is to avoid adverbs—oops.
The sparing use of adjectives serves many functions. It declutters the paragraphs. It streamlines the story. Then, when the adjective shows up, all lights shine on the star object. There are other advantages to adopting this rule in our lives, not just when writing.
Adjectives set expectations. The challenge is that everyone has different expectations because our definition of a word is relative to our experience.
When I worked at a startup company based out in San Francisco, I started forming expectations around its culture. The management raved about their culture and how important it was. They raved about how a brand-name VC firm was an investor. My expectations compounded.
Then, they told me about the benefits. Even if I didn’t take the jobs for the benefits, the shiny things make most mortal beings tremble with excitement.
I was told about this generous vacation package. The adjective "generous" was carpet-bombed throughout my onboarding. I thought it would be the boilerplate unlimited vacation policy I saw in most SF-based startup companies.
Nope. I was getting a "generous" 2-week vacation. I was disappointed. But someone reading this might say it indeed was generous. This is where we have different expectations and how dangerous poor adjective selection is!
This company had told me they wanted to hire more Canadians. If so, they should’ve known the minimum legal limit was a two-week vacation policy. But I had never worked for a company that had anything less than four weeks (including personal days).
Even the large, bureaucratic traditionalist banks gave three-week vacation at a minimum. Anyone who had researched the basics of Canada would’ve known this. The company only revealed their ignorance, laziness in research, and possible self-conceitedness by using the word generous over and over again to something that was the bare minimum to those living in the country they wishes to hire from.
Yet, they compounded the gap of expectations by saying they were so generous that vacation days could be taken when I was sick. I could take a day without question. Clearly, we had different definitions of what “generous” was.
Then I was told about my autonomous role and how much they trusted me with the freedom to control my hours. Yet, I would need to take a vacation day if I stayed away from the keyboard for more than four hours. This was after I would report how long (in half-hour increments) each daily task would take.
Now, it was clear they didn’t understand the definition of autonomous either. The danger of using powerful words like ‘freedom’ or ‘autonomy’ in such a context is that it will backfire because—whether they are adjectives or descriptive nouns—they breed expectations derived from individual experiences.
It’s why I cringe when a consulting company plasters innovation on a banner or a robo-advisor tells me about long-term investing while saying “get a free weed stock.”
Shiny adjectives and nouns are used as marketing gimmicks every day. They’re used to entice and bring forth emotions of jubilation and excitement. But when they do not meet expectations, it breeds contempt and dissatisfaction.
These lazy and mediocre companies would’ve fared better if they didn’t say anything. They could’ve not used a single adjective. Then, they would’ve at least been honest instead of being caught in the subjective white lie.