The literary and educational sectors of social media erupted into controversy recently when a Threads user posted a request for authors to use easier words in their books, accompanied by a screenshot of their search for the meaning of the word “scrying.”
The initial backlash to this request inspired another user to post their support, saying that there was nothing wrong with readers requesting easier vocabulary and claiming that those protesting the idea of writers adjusting their vocabulary for readers was an ableist point of view. This comment went viral and was reposted across the internet, with hundreds of thousands of people weighing in, liking, or commenting on various reposts or responses from readers, writers, and educators alike.
Many were quick to point out that the user mizteefranklin incorrectly classified this issue as one of ableism because a lack of understanding certain vocabulary words is not a disability—it’s simply a lack of knowledge. And knowledge gaps can be filled. Perhaps not easily, as everyone learns differently and learning disabilities can make vocabulary challenging for some. But with sustained effort, anyone can improve their vocabulary.
However, like many hot-button issues on the internet, what started as an individual complaint about the word “scrying” has snowballed into a much larger—but important—discussion about the purpose of vocabulary and the accessibility of language.
Is it a writer’s responsibility to adjust their language to the literacy capabilities of the average reader? Is it the reader’s responsibility to educate themselves when they come across an unfamiliar word? Or, if they choose not to, to simply select another book? Should authors forgo precision of language in order to resonate with the common man? Should more grace be extended to readers who feel alienated by a writer’s language? Should all language be simplified to the lowest common denominator? Or, are there spaces where it is fair, important, or even necessary to have higher vocabulary expectations of readers?
The fact that this debate is centered around vocabulary is particularly interesting, because—as many people pointed out online—one of the easiest ways to improve your vocabulary is by reading and looking up the meaning of a word when you come across one you don’t know. While in the past some of us had to go to a physical dictionary to look up the meaning of a word, today it is easier than ever to google a word’s meaning. Better yet, some e-readers allow you to directly highlight a word in the text and its definition will automatically pop up.
The irony here is that the original poster did look up the meaning of the word “scrying.” And yet, even though they did the work, they still felt compelled to request authors not use complex words in their books, suggesting a resistance, or even resentment, to the work itself.
For many, this is the crux of the issue: calling for a standard to be lowered rather than striving to meet said standard. As many educators online claimed, the debate about lowering vocabulary words in books perfectly encapsulates a major problem facing the American education system: the push to lower standards for students precisely because many students are failing to meet them.
The data certainly highlights a growing cause for concern about student readiness. In 2025, the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP)’s Nation’s Report Card showed that average reading scores for high school seniors fell to their lowest levels in over 20 years. What’s even more concerning is that the lowest performing students showed the most decline. In other words, the gap between the highest performing students and lowest performing students is widening.
Due to a mixture of “No Child Left Behind” funding policies and COVID accommodations that became permanent, an increasing number of students are allowed to pass onto the next grade even if they have not mastered the skills required to do so. Not only does the inability to fail a student undermine the grading system and fundamentally change the student-teacher relationship, but it also irreparably harms the student’s education. Even worse, this issue compounds with each passing year, as we’ve seen with many students impacted by the COVID pandemic.
It also poses enormous challenges in the classroom. Teaching 15+ students at the same time has always been difficult, but when some of those students are two grades behind where they should be, teachers are forced to either focus on more rudimentary skills than planned, leaving high achieving students bored and uninspired, or continue with the planned curriculum knowing that a percentage of the class will be unable to understand it because they don’t have the necessary prerequisite skills to do so.
This frustration has prompted University of California STEM professors to publicly call for the reinstatement of ACT/SAT admissions requirements because of the number of their students that are not only struggling to understand the course material but also lack basic mathematical skills. To learn more, check out our blog on the topic.
As students continue to fall further behind, rather than pushing for sorely needed systemic educational reforms, blame and public ire are unfortunately sometimes directed at specific schools and teachers, who face mounting pressure to lower grading standards, simplify the number of steps in an assignment or project, decrease page requirements of papers, extend deadlines, reduce the amount, breadth, or complexity of curriculum topics, and increase support (or what some call “hand holding”) of students through assignments that used to be run of the mill. There have also been calls for all standardized tests to lower their standards.
Recent changes to both the ACT and SAT did, in fact, spark some controversy when they were announced, with critics arguing that some changes (such as the reduced overall time and number of questions) made the tests notably easier. The SAT Reading & Writing section in particular was criticized for replacing its 700–800-word passages, which were each accompanied by ~10 questions, with dozens of 50–200-word passages that are each accompanied by only one question.
Those in support of the changes to the SAT praised College Board for adapting to the modern needs of students and argued that rigor was not compromised because the skills being assessed did not change. And while the Reading & Writing passages were shortened, students were being challenged in new ways by having to “reset” with a new passage every question.
Others criticized College Board for capitulating to students’ shorter attention spans and undermining the very skills they claimed to be testing. After all, it’s much easier to identify the main idea of a single-paragraph passage than a five-paragraph one. With such short passages, how could they truly evaluate a student’s ability to unpack an argument, make connections between ideas, or assess relationships between characters? Some questioned whether the changes to the Reading & Writing section indicated that College Board doubted current students’ ability to read, engage with, and analyze a longer text.
Regardless of motive, College Board’s decision to reduce the length of Reading & Writing passages does in fact mirror an overall shift in the modern high school English student experience away from reading longer texts. A 2008 survey found that high school English teachers assigned, on average, 4 books annually, with some assigning 7 or more. A 2024 survey of English teachers found they assigned an average of 2.7 whole books per year.
One reason for this change is the implementation of pre-made curriculum that features excerpts from novels to teach various skills instead of using a single novel to teach multiple skills. However, if students aren’t exposed to reading entire books in school, and the standardized tests themselves continue to shorten their required texts, many worry this will have a prolonged effect on students’ reading stamina, overall reading comprehension, and perception of reading itself.
Indeed, there has been a noticeable decline in both students and adults who choose to read for fun. The U.S. Department of Education’s National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) reported that only 14% of thirteen-year-olds in 2023 read for fun daily, compared to 27% in 2012, and the U.S. Census Bureau reported in 2022 that 48.5% of adults read at least one book that year, compared with 54.6% ten years earlier.
Many worry that this is, at least in part, related to the changes in the English classroom, and that without a K-12 English curriculum that requires students to read a broad range of books (and complete them), they will not learn which books, genres, authors, and writing styles they prefer—key information that helps students become lifelong readers.
Additionally, English class is often the only time students are exposed to literary classics that have markedly different language than modern books. And while excerpts of these classics can expose students to these works and be used to teach one-off instances of unfamiliar vocabulary, without reading them in their entirety, students are robbed of the opportunity to fully engage with and adapt to unfamiliar syntax, dialect, and vocabulary.
It is precisely through the struggle of getting through Romeo & Juliet, The Odyssey, Beowulf, Jane Eyre, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and Their Eyes Were Watching God that students hone their skills and build confidence so that other literary classics like 1984, The Catcher in the Rye, The Crucible, To Kill A Mockingbird, and The Great Gatsby are a breeze in comparison.
Challenging books not only provide students with a passive opportunity to improve their vocabulary (the repeated exposure to difficult vocabulary within a story or overall context that a student does understand has been proven to increase a student’s knowledge of how words work) but also provide teachers with a plethora of words they can use for active vocabulary instruction. Vocabulary, after all, is explicitly tested on the ACT/SAT and is a standard that teachers are expected to teach.
For all the criticism of the changes to the ACT/SAT, the new versions of both tests have increased the rigor of their vocabulary questions, placing an even larger spotlight on the importance of vocabulary. Students now face questions about words like “quotient” and “nascent” and “arduous,” words whose meanings may be difficult to glean solely from context clues.
Despite the current social media debate about the value of vocabulary, ACT and College Board have made it abundantly clear that they believe a key component of college readiness is the ability to engage with sophisticated vocabulary.
While ACT and College Board are not the arbiters of literary standards in our society writ large, their decisions do directly impact students, teachers, and schools. And, as we’ve seen, what happens in the classroom does have a direct impact on the overall literacy challenges society later faces. For ACT and College Board to take such a strong stance on vocabulary, even while they make other adjustments for modern students, suggests that research continues to uphold the value of vocabulary.
Ultimately, it is important to acknowledge America’s (unfortunately growing) literacy gap, as well as note when privilege and accessibility play a major role in a particular skill gap, such as vocabulary. This is why we should not only help create a safe space for people to be honest about their vocabulary challenges (yes, even on the internet) but also advocate for increased support and resources to help those struggling most.
However, the answer should not be for writers to lower the vocabulary bar in their books or for us to lower the expectations of our students. Words, and the myriads of beautiful ways in which they are used, matter. And our students deserve to know that for themselves.