Mind your words

Can you use that in a sentence?

Words are important. The way they are used is also important. But sometimes, a word pops up that perhaps you haven’t heard often or is used in a new context that seems conspicuous. The first time you hear it, you might take only a small note of its oddity. But the second time it becomes suspicious, and you worry that you missed the “new word” memo. By then, the word seems to be everywhere, and you hate it simply because it is overused and because it is being thrust upon you like unwanted committee work. It’s worse if you’re cynical.

One of these “trendy in academia” words is intentionality. I hear it and it’s like nails on a chalkboard (does anyone know what that sounds like anymore?) It’s not enough to be intentional in your actions. One needs to have intentionalness in your planning and execution. And even if you do the right thing, being accidental (accidentiality??) is not good enough. You need to have the quality of intention in your thoughts about the action. The thought police are there to make sure you are thinking correctly. As an aside, the thought police, who live in admin offices, are different than the dream police, who live inside your head.

But it turns out this word is neither new nor made up. It derived from the Latin intentio and used in the 13^th century to describe mental acts. “I had intentionality in selecting which brown robe I wore today.” I’m just guessing that some scholarly philosopher in 1426 wrote that into his annual review. Brentano used the term in his 1874 work Psychology from an Empirical Standpoint. We’ve had at least 150 years of intentionality. Somebody needs to explain their accidents. Intentionality was used first in business in 1989 in the book Strategic Intent. And of course, usage in the business of academia followed closely thereafter. I’m surprised that I’ve only heard it in the last few years. I still have not used it in a sentence that wasn’t dripping with sarcasm.

The latest term that I’ve heard too often is alignment. I remember when alignment was something you did with your rear end. And then when we started using drawing programs, you could align your objects, and they looked better and more orderly when they were in alignment. But now, alignment has become synonymous with being a team-player, following the plan, and of course, following orders.

Alignment was first used in academia in 1996 by an educational psychologist who suggested that teaching activities and assessments should be aligned with learning outcomes. Essentially, you should be teaching with intentionality. Now, your goals can be aligned. In fact, your goals should be aligned with the strategic plan. Moreover, you should be able to explain how your goals are aligned with the strategic plan. In fact, your alignment should be explained with intentionality. If you have post-hoc alignment, it demonstrates that you haven’t been reflective in your alignment.

Alignment is pressure. Whether it come from a peer or from a supervisor, if your plans are not aligned with their plans, someone needs to change their approach. And it’s you.

Alignment burst again on the current stage when the current leaders of NIH decided that grants would be judged not for merit alone but also for alignment with institute and administration priorities. More than a year later, no one understands what this means or how it should be addressed because the explicit priorities are so vague. Except that you should try to avoid certain words. You can still use alignment.

Whether these words creep into our lexicon gradually or are thrust into our daily usage, they bother me for several reasons. First, they reek of conformity in a field that is supposed to value creativity, originality, and thinking outside the box. Second, they are often introduced in such earnestness that you wonder if there’s been any thoughtful perspective on their inclusion and usage. Finally, the incorporation of these new terms can herald changes that are not necessarily good. George Bernard Shaw wrote, “When will we realize that the fact that we can become accustomed to anything, however disgusting at first, makes it necessary to examine carefully everything we have become accustomed to.” As my mother often admonished me, think before you speak.