Plain Language Editing: Lifting the Weight of Words

When we write, we ask our readers to carry a load. Each sentence adds something to their working memory: the subject, the verb, the modifiers, the structure, the argument. For some readers, that load is light and easy to balance. For others, it competes with stress, fatigue, distraction, or the constant weight of systemic inequities. The heavier the load, the harder it is for the message to get through.

Plain language editing is about lightening that burden. It doesn’t mean stripping away nuance or flattening ideas. It means presenting them in ways that respect the reader’s limited working memory. As Dr. Iva Cheung argues, this is more than stylistic preference—it’s an ethical choice. For people already navigating oppression and stress, texts that are unnecessarily complex create barriers. Editing into plain language can remove some of those barriers.

The role of working memory

Cognitive scientists describe working memory as the short-term mental space we use to process information. It’s where we hold details long enough to connect them, solve problems, or follow instructions. But working memory is fragile. Stress, fatigue, and distraction all shrink its capacity. And even under ideal conditions, it can only hold so much.

When a writer separates a subject from its verb with a tangle of clauses, the reader has to store the subject, carry it through the detour, and hold it until the verb finally appears. That act of mental juggling taxes working memory. A sentence may technically be correct, but the cost of reading it is high. Plain language editing reduces that cost: it keeps subjects and verbs close together, limits unnecessary detours, and gives readers the chance to process information as they encounter it.

Consider this example:

The insistence, despite strong statistical evidence, of tobacco companies that there is no scientific proof linking smoking and disease is no longer their official position.

Here, the subject (“the insistence”) and the verb (“is”) are separated by a pile of modifiers. The reader has to hold everything in suspension before reaching the core idea.

Now compare:

Tobacco companies once insisted there was no proof linking smoking and disease. They no longer hold that position.

The meaning hasn’t been simplified away; it’s simply been expressed in a way that respects working memory.

Plain language is not plain thinking

One of the most persistent misconceptions about plain language is that it “dumbs down” content. In fact, the opposite is true. To write plainly requires deep understanding: you must grasp your material well enough to present it simply without distortion. As Aaron Dalton has written, plain language is an act of translation. You are not reducing meaning—you are making it usable.

Plain language can also be elegant. Shorter sentences and direct verbs don’t have to sound childish. Think of the best speeches, the ones that linger in memory. They are rarely built of jargon or convoluted syntax. They are built of strong words in clear sequence, words that can be understood the first time they are heard.

Sophistication in writing doesn’t come from complexity for its own sake. It comes from precision, rhythm, and resonance. Plain language leaves room for all of that. A poem can be written in plain language. A legal ruling can be written in plain language. A research summary can be written in plain language. The beauty of the prose lies not in how hard it is to decode but in how fully it communicates.

The craft of placement: verbs and modifiers

One of the simplest, most powerful techniques of plain language editing is keeping verbs close to the words they govern. English sentences are generally right-branching: we expect the subject and verb early, with details to follow. When writers separate them, readers feel the gap.

Take a sentence like:

The committee, after hearing extensive testimony and reviewing hundreds of pages of evidence, decided to postpone its ruling.

Perfectly correct, but the subject (“the committee”) and the verb (“decided”) are far apart. Now try:

The committee decided to postpone its ruling after hearing testimony and reviewing the evidence.

The action is immediate. The reader processes the idea as soon as it arrives, without carrying the subject across a long delay.

This principle applies to modifiers as well. Place them close to what they describe. When modifiers drift, meaning drifts with them. A misplaced modifier forces the reader to re-interpret mid-sentence, another hit to working memory. Editing for plain language is often as simple as pulling verbs and modifiers back to their anchors.

Accessibility and equity

Plain language has always been tied to accessibility. Governments, health organizations, and public institutions increasingly require it, recognizing that information is only as useful as it is usable. But Cheung takes the argument further: reducing extraneous cognitive load is an ethical responsibility. People navigating oppression, poverty, disability, or other systemic barriers already spend more of their working memory just surviving daily life. For them, every additional barrier in a text is another weight. Plain language is a way of lifting some of that weight.

This makes plain language editing more than a style preference. It is an act of equity and inclusion. It recognizes that knowledge funded by the public should be accessible to the public—not just free of paywalls, but free of unnecessary complexity.

I like to give the examples of two readers. The first is a retiree lounging on a beach. The second is a single parent unsure of how they are going to pay rent. The former is going to have a stronger working memory because they don’t have other stressors taxing them.

The editor’s role

Plain language editing is not always a distinct stage in the publishing process. It often overlaps with stylistic editing and copyediting. But the mindset is consistent: shift the burden away from the reader. Build sentences that carry their meaning cleanly. Organize documents so that readers can find what they need quickly. Use words that open doors rather than close them.

It is not easier work. It demands thought, empathy, and restraint. But the payoff is writing that reaches more readers, serves more communities, and honours the time and attention of those who engage with it.

Plain language doesn’t flatten ideas. It delivers them. It reduces the weight of words so that readers can carry what matters: the meaning.