Clarity is not the enemy of depth

Don’t hide behind technical language and jargon; explain it

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There is a common belief in journalism that clarity comes at a cost.

If language becomes too plain, the work loses authority. Seriousness lives in long sentences, technical terms, and insider language. This belief surfaces often in newsrooms, especially when accessibility or audience growth enters the conversation.

But clarity is not the same as simplification. And plain language is not the same as shallow thinking.

The problem, journalists say, is not that work becomes clearer; the problem is when ideas are oversimplified. These two are often confused, but they are not the same.

Complex ideas can be explained without stripping them of meaning. Writing can be direct and still rigorous. What clarity does is remove unnecessary friction between the story and the reader. What oversimplification does is remove substance. Good journalism avoids the second while aiming for the first.

One useful way to think about this is through process. Patrick Garvin, an expert in accessibility who worked in journalism for more than 15 years, gives an illustration when I asked him about accessibility for an article earlier this year.

“If a dish requires ten steps, those steps matter. Combining them or cutting them down may make the instructions shorter, but it changes the result. The dish will not come out the same.”

Garvin said what can change is how those steps are written. “They do not need to rely on technical language only trained professionals understand.” 

This improves clarity, and more people can follow them without losing the integrity of the recipe.

Journalism works in the same way. Depth does not come from complicated language. It comes from reporting, context, and structure. Clear writing does not remove depth; it gives depth space to exist, rather than burying it under unnecessary complex jargon and technical language.

In practice, writing clearly often takes more effort, not less. It forces journalists to understand their material well enough to explain it without hiding behind jargon. It requires decisions about what truly matters in a story and what does not. That discipline is part of editorial rigor, not a departure from it.

This is especially important for local newsrooms. Local journalism serves wide and diverse audiences with different levels of familiarity, education, and access. Writing that assumes too much background knowledge does not signal intelligence. It signals exclusion.

Clarity, in this context, is not about lowering standards. It is about respecting your readers’ time and attention. It is about making sure the work reaches the people it is meant to serve.

Accessibility fits naturally into this way of thinking. Too often, it is framed as a set of technical add-ons: captions, screen readers, alt text, contrast settings. These things matter, but they are not the whole picture.

Accessibility starts earlier, at the editorial level. It begins with asking whether people can actually interact with the journalism being produced. Not just whether features exist, but whether they work in practice.

Small, consistent choices make a real difference. Clear headlines. Logical structure. Descriptive links instead of vague ones. Images that are explained, not assumed to be understood. These are not expensive changes. They are habits.

For newsrooms with limited resources, this is good news. Improving accessibility does not always require new tools or additional staff. It often requires attention and intention. Making accessibility part of the workflow, rather than an afterthought, changes how stories are produced from the start.

There is also a trust element here. Readers are more likely to engage with journalism that feels open rather than guarded. Clear, straightforward language signals confidence. It suggests the newsroom understands its subject well enough to explain it plainly.

Authority does not come from obscurity. It comes from accuracy, transparency, and consistency. A story that is difficult to understand does not feel more credible. It feels distant.

Clarity also benefits journalists themselves. When ideas are expressed plainly, weaknesses in reporting or logic are easier to spot and fix. Clear writing exposes gaps. That can be uncomfortable, but it strengthens the work.

Audeince attention is scarce and trust is fragile, so clarity is not a luxury. It is a responsibility, especially for local journalism, where the relationship between newsroom and community is direct and personal.

Clear journalism does not talk down to its audience. It meets people where they are without lowering the bar. It preserves complexity while removing unnecessary barriers.

Depth survives clarity. In many cases, it depends on it.

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