How Abstract Language Builds Power
Consider two sentences that describe the same event.
The first: ‘The government decided to cut funding for public hospitals.’
The second: ‘The reallocation of budgetary resources within the public health sector reflects a strategic recalibration of expenditure priorities.’
Both sentences refer to the same thing. But they do not feel the same, and that difference is not accidental. One is direct and concrete. The other is dense, technical, and deliberately hard to pin down. The gap between them is not simply a matter of style — it is a question of power.
Why Abstraction Gets Used
Language becomes abstract when it moves away from visible, physical actions and things toward concepts, processes, and systems. Instead of ‘scientists discovered,’ we get ‘discovery was made.’ Instead of ‘the council decided,’ we get ‘a decision was reached.’
The people doing things disappear. The actions become objects. This grammatical shift — turning verbs and adjectives into nouns — is known as nominalisation, and it is one of the most common features of formal written English.
Nominalisation is not inherently dishonest or manipulative. In many professional and academic contexts it serves a genuine purpose: it allows complex ideas to be compressed and carried forward efficiently. A scientist writing about ‘the acceleration of particles’
can then use ‘acceleration’ as a subject in the next sentence, building a chain of ideas without constantly restarting from scratch. Technicality — the use of specialised vocabulary that carries precise meaning within a field — works similarly. When a biologist writes ‘mitosis’ rather than ‘the process by which a cell divides to produce two identical daughter cells,’ they are not being deliberately obscure; they are using a shared term that a specialist audience will immediately understand.
The problem arises not when abstraction is used with precision, but when it is used to obscure rather than clarify.
Technicality and the Construction of Authority
Technical language does something beyond conveying information: it signals membership.
When a speaker or writer uses the correct terms fluently, they signal expertise and authority. This is useful when the expertise is real — a cardiologist explaining a procedure, a structural engineer describing load tolerances. But it also creates a barrier. Those who do not share the vocabulary are, by design, excluded from full participation in the conversation.
In civic life — in politics, law, and public policy — this exclusion has real consequences. A planning document written in dense bureaucratic prose is technically available to the public. But if the average citizen cannot parse the language, the ‘consultation process’ it describes is, in practice, closed. The document is visible; its meaning is not.
This is the dual nature of technical register. It enables efficient communication among specialists. It also, whether intentionally or not, concentrates interpretive power — the authority to decide what something means — in the hands of those who control the language.
The Risks of Vagueness
There is a related but distinct problem: deliberate vagueness. Abstraction can be used not to compress precise meaning but to avoid committing to any meaning at all. A government statement that promises ‘a renewed commitment to evidence-based frameworks for sustainable outcome delivery’ has the surface appearance of substance. But it contains no verifiable claim. No specific action is proposed. No agent is responsible.
No timeline is given. The abstraction is not compressing a clear idea — it is replacing one.
Political language is a fertile source of examples, but the phenomenon is not limited to politics. Corporate communications, institutional reports, and even academic writing can fall into the same pattern: using the register of authority without the content that register is supposed to carry.
Linguists sometimes refer to this as obfuscation — the use of language that is deliberately or effectively unclear. The distinction between compression and obfuscation is not always easy to identify, but a useful test is this: can the abstract version be translated back into a concrete, specific statement without losing its essential meaning?
If yes, the abstraction is doing legitimate work. If the translation reveals that the original said nothing specific at all, the language was not compressing meaning — it was performing it.
Translate It Back
Below are three abstract statements alongside their concrete translations.
Notice what is gained and lost in each version.
Abstract: ‘Systemic barriers to equitable participation have been identified as a key area for intervention.’
Concrete: ‘We found that some groups of people are regularly prevented from taking part, and we plan to do something about it.’
Abstract: ‘The implementation of enhanced data governance protocols will ensure robust compliance with evolving regulatory requirements.’
Concrete: ‘We are changing how we store data to follow new privacy laws.’
Abstract: ‘Preliminary indicators suggest a divergence in projected and actual outcomes for key performance benchmarks.’
Concrete: ‘Early signs show that results are not matching our targets.’
In each case, the concrete version is shorter, clearer, and more direct. It also feels less authoritative. That trade-off is the point. The abstract version is not carrying more information — it is performing more status.
The Ethical Dimension
None of this means that formal or technical language is wrong. It means that language choice carries ethical weight. When a writer chooses abstraction in a context where clarity is owed — a public notice, a consumer contract, a community consultation — they are making a choice about who gets to understand and who does not. When an institution uses complexity to avoid accountability, the language is not neutral; it is doing political work.
The capacity to read abstract language critically — to ask who is speaking, what is being claimed, who is responsible, and what the concrete version would look like — is not a skill reserved for linguists. It is a form of civic literacy, and it matters in precisely the situations where power and language intersect most directly.
Abstraction builds concepts. It also, when deployed without care or with deliberate intent, builds walls.
Check your vocabulary knowledge
- nominalisation n.
- the grammatical process of turning verbs or adjectives into nouns
- obfuscation n.
- the use of language that is deliberately or effectively unclear
- technicality n.
- the use of specialised vocabulary that carries precise meaning within a particular field
- interpretive adj.
- relating to the power or authority to decide what something means
- register n.
- the level and style of language used for a particular audience or purpose