Is the Use of Big Words Ableist?

BookTok spurs some interesting literary discussions. Want to find an amazing romantasy? The creators have you covered. Is there a deeper layer of symbolism to the rollercoaster in that new YA mystery? Someone in the comments just wrote two paragraphs about it under the book review. Do you skip prologues or only read dialogue? Well, so do a fair amount of BookTokers... unfortunately.

The most prevalent topic from the BookTok community as of late: Authors should use smaller, more common words in their stories. Certain content creators are arguing that ten-dollar are unnecessary, regardless of whether the words are the most accurate for a character's feelings or situation. Then, the conversation shifted to ableism. 

Is an author ableist for using big words? 

No. Everyone knows a term or phrase someone else doesn't, it doesn't make them ableist to use it. A writer shouldn't have to run a poll for their audience in order to put a specific word in their story. It's incredibly simple to find a definition nowadays, even if someone doesn't have the red, Collegiate Webster's Dictionary with the indents sitting on their coffee table. If a book is too frustrating overall, readers can (and will) find something else they're interested in. Disabled adults can choose to look up words or DNF like every other reader. To use disabled readers as an excuse to pressure authors into capitulating with certain BookTokers' demands is baloney (and has similar echoes to pro-AI arguments).

It seems people who don't want to put in effort or learn something often use the disabled community as a shield. I suppose it's a clue for how they see us. After all, they're not protesting the Olmstead memo with us or petitioning their city councils for better access at local parks. We're a convenient monolith that can't understand much or create anything on our own worth a damn, according to them.

Are there situations where using big words can be ableist?

Yes, though not in the realm of creative writing.

A doctor intentionally using difficult terminology after being asked for a layman's explanation of treatment options in order to keep a disabled person out of the discussion for their own medical care is ableist. Doctors will sometimes refuse to talk to anyone but a caregiver, even if the disabled patient is willing and able to make a choice for themselves. 

Caregivers can also engage in this behavior, shutting a person with an intellectual disability out of any discussion about their future by refusing to use words the person knows. Bad caregivers see crips as incapable in every aspect because needing help with some things equals (in their minds) unable to decide/do most things. Or it takes less effort for a caregiver to do what they want without consulting us; it's harder for them to get us ready to go to the beach when they could just keep us at home for the day... for example.

And don't get me started on bureaucrats.

An end note on vocabulary:

Limiting the lexicon of people will, eventually, make our ability to express ourselves less precise. The majority of the time, people don't select a word based on how many letters it has but simply because it's the best one for the situation. What happens when we keep demanding shorter words, ad nauseam? We begin to lose nuance. We erode away beauty and raw complexity from the mountain of human emotion, thought, and experience to a pebble on the tongue. It might be easier to swallow, but your ability to see the horizon as you climb is gone. It's a pretty steep price for not wanting to look something up or engage with new ideas.