I gave up on law as a career quite quickly, but the recent receipt of a legal missive has brought its labyrinthine nature back into my mind. To condense a long story into a blog post, I was asked to sign a contract document from a copywriting client, and a couple of excerpts from this document caught my eye as being at best laboriously verbose, and at worst completely baffling. And bear in mind that I’m smarter than the average bear when it comes to translating this sort of stuff – I make a lucrative living out of reducing complex topics into easily-digestible bite-sized chunks of copywriting.
If, for any reason, the Company
becomes liable to pay, or shall pay, any such taxes, the Company shall be
entitled to deduct from any amounts payable to the Consultant pursuant to this
Agreement (including, for the avoidance of doubt any amounts prospectively
payable) all amounts so paid or required to be paid by it and, to the extent
that any taxes so paid or required to be paid by the Company exceeds the amount
payable by the Company to the Consultant pursuant to this Agreement, the Consultant
shall forthwith pay to or reimburse the Company with an amount equal to such
excess.
Not bad, eh? Eight commas and 103 words, all fighting for
breathing space in a single sentence. However, that paragraph is worthy of an
award from the Plain English Campaign compared to this example, from the next
page of the document:
Each provision of this agreement
shall be construed separately and (save as otherwise expressly provided herein)
none of the provisions hereof shall limit or govern the extend, application or
construction of any other of them and, notwithstanding that any provision of
this agreement may prove to be unenforceable, the remaining provisions of this
agreement shall continue in full force and effect.
Doesn’t that simply translate as “this agreement is
binding unless it isn’t”? If that is the message it’s conveying, why does it
occupy a 61-word sentence, when I’ve condensed its essence into seven words?
Surely the remaining 54 words aren’t required purely to prevent people finding
loopholes they can exploit? Perhaps someone was being paid by the word, or
maybe they were trying to confuse idiots (in which case, job done). Regardless
of the reasons behind such unnecessary verbosity, documents like this underline
why I probably made a good decision dropping law as an academic subject, and
concentrating on English instead. It isn’t just Latin phraseology that might as
well be a different language when it comes to translating the letters of the
law.
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