To me, language is wielded with dual intention: (1) to convey meaning ("A thorough lecturer") & (2) to convey meaning in a pleasing manner to the listener ("A good lecturer").

Expanding vocabulary to accentuate (2) by necessity compromises (1) for classes of listeners / readers who are not familiar with that vocabulary superset. Which decomposes the optimization problem to "Who is my audience and what is their comfort vocabulary set?" I would expect it's >1,000 words even for ESOL listeners. However, it's certainly < "the full set of florid English words".

And furthermore, I think English writers writing for English consumers (I count myself among these, sadly) often undervalue writing in the most effective style for the widest audience when applicable (and nowadays it almost always is: research papers, comments on a public forum, blog posts, how to's, etc etc).

Does anyone have any links to courses to help develop a working minimally spanning English vocabulary for international technical communication?

This is one problem I've had with academic literature in historically liberal arts fields. "Just learn the obscure English vocabulary (before you can understand, work, or research in a field)" is a ridiculous bar to set in front of contributions.

I am not sure anyone believes that writing with only 1000 words is better - but it should make the writing more understandable. There is a sharp curve in understanding from text that is easy (most magazine or newspaper articles) to dizzyingly complicated (most academic writing). For me the utility in simple writing is its accessibility to a wider audience.

Incidentally you did rather well in your second paragraph - only 'honestly, limit, common, curious, digested' were out of bounds, and they are easily swapped without much loss in expression.

Many of the "Simple English"-language articles on Wikipedia are better (IMHO) than their English counter-parts. Perhaps the best would be a mix of both, eg the introduction to:

https://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fraction_(mathematics)

"A fraction is a number that shows how many equal parts there are. When we write fractions, we show one number with a line above another number, for example, (...) 1⁄4 or 1/4. The top number tells us how many parts there are, the second number tells us the total number of parts.

The top part of the fraction is called a numerator. The bottom part of the fraction is called a denominator. For example, 1/4: The 1 is the numerator here, and the 4 is the denominator."

vs the "English" one:

"A fraction (from Latin fractus, "broken") represents a part of a whole or, more generally, any number of equal parts. When spoken in everyday English, a fraction describes how many parts of a certain size there are, for example, one-half, eight-fifths, three-quarters. A common, vulgar, or simple fraction (examples: 1/2 and 17/3) consists of an integer numerator displayed above a line (or before a slash), and a non-zero integer denominator, displayed below (or after) that line. Numerators and denominators are also used in fractions that are not common, including compound fractions, complex fractions, and mixed numerals."

> Is it that you think more about what you're saying?

I think this is one important reason - and key behind all good writing. Using a limited vocabulary is one way to force yourself to do that.

It's also a way to force yourself to examine what you write, and make sure you actually use words you understand, and not stray too far into your passive vocabulary and accidentally introduce ambiguity because you think you are using more precise words than you actually are.

I would also say that, while rich language can be fun, most writing can benefit from being simplified. Not everything needs to read like Paradise Lost.

In the words of Hemmingway: "Don’t get discouraged because there’s a lot of mechanical work to writing. There is, and you can’t get out of it. I rewrote the first part of A Farewell to Arms at least fifty times. You’ve got to work it over. The first draft of anything is shit. When you first start to write you get all the kick and the reader gets none, but after you learn to work it’s your object to convey everything to the reader so that he remembers it not as a story he had read but something that happened to himself."

(Here with more context, than the traditional quip: "The first draft of anything is shit.", in order to emphasize that the point is that everything needs to be reworked).

On a similar note, I recommend that everyone who writes (ie: everyone) read: "On Writing Well" by Zinsser (himself a propoment of revisions, the book is in its 30th edition):

http://www.amazon.com/Writing-Well-Classic-Guide-Nonfiction/...

Using a simple vocabulary is not inherently better. It's a trade-off. What it does, is reach a wider audience, at the expense of clear, concise communication. All communication has this same trade-off, whether it's between people, or between a person and a compiler or virtual machine.

For example, when speaking in a domain, such as computer science and programming, there are certain words we use that are specific to that domain which help us express ideas efficiently. The assumption is that the people receiving the communication know those words, or at least know how to quickly find out what they are referring to, in context. For example, type system. The layperson may have wildly different expectations for what that means, if they even want to hazard a guess. Replacing "type system" with ten to thirty words describing what we mean instead of using type system does make the communication more approachable (if longer) to the layperson, but at some small inconvenience to the writer and to readers who are already familiar with the concept. I don't want to read a few sentences to just come to the conclusion that the writer is describing what we already both have efficiently categorized in our minds as a type system.

There is, in this, quite a bit in common with programming languages, and how we communicate with computers and later programmers using them. Perl, for example, often labelled as a write-only language. Some of this is due to quite a bit of historical programming dating to the early web, when there was less thought to maintainability and not abusing the flexibility of the language, and some of this is due to the rich syntax and expressions allowed in the language. Perl comes with a larger vocabulary than many other languages, and the syntax is complex (expressive) enough that the learning curve is a bit longer. The benefit is that people well versed in the language can express themselves clearly, concisely and quickly. Python, on the other hand, as a smaller vocabulary, and more constrained syntax. This emphasizes clarity over conciseness and quickness. This constraint allows programmers that are amateurs to still write code in a way that does not appear extremely different than the code an expert writes (although I believe there is an underlying complexity in the code that this masks). The important thing to note here is that there's a trade-off in language design, and in the use of languages. I believe that a group of five expert Perl programmers will achieve more in the same time period than a group of five expert Python programmers, all other things being equal (including module ecosystems). I don't think this is a a controversial statement, just as I don't think five expert QBASIC programmers will be as efficient as five Python programmers, or that five expert Perl programmers will be as efficient as five expert APL programmers. The key point here is that if they are all experts, whatever your trade-off for accessibility was is now a liability. The other key point is that people rarely become experts, so optimizing for some lower level of skill, whether it be amateur or professional, is often a more useful strategy, because it trade of quality (efficiency) for quantity is often a good one to make at this level. Conversely, I would argue going too far the other way, to the level of QBASIC, constrains people past the amateur level far too much and hurts efficiency as well.

I guess that's really just a long-winded way of saying you should write to your audience.:)

P.S. I often find I use wordier expressions when I could have used something simpler. I like to think that's because I'm trying to be concise, and convey a specific meaning, and I value my time and the time of those that read what I write. In the end, I use words like "inherently" because it accurately captures exactly what I was trying to express. Hopefully for the audience at HN, and the many non-native English speakers we have, that's not problematic. I don't think I'm too wordy, but I have a feeling I'm unable to accurately assess myself on this subject.