One of the great strengths of American English is its adaptability. Unlike many other languages, it tends to welcome new words easily – the verb “to Google” is perhaps the most famous, recent arrival. This linguistic mutability reflects America’s wonderfully informal, innovative spirit, but also sometimes comes at a price: the common abuse, misuse and overuse of certain words – especially in politics and business.

As a speechwriter, I like to say that Washington is where good words go to die. The current administration, for example, has relied so heavily on the words “freedom” and “liberty” that the words have acquired entire baggage trains of subsidiary political connotations, which vary greatly depending on your political orientation. And the next administration will surely adopt its own rhetorical arsenal, probably to similar, diminishing effect.

As a business consultant, I often encounter an entirely different set of overtaxed words – words that should be put through the office shredder and mulched for use on the traffic islands out in the parking lot. First among them is “leverage.” How many times every day do people suggest we “leverage” a presentation, a strategy, a memo, an idea? Start counting. Somehow, it’s as if the word leverage has become the Swiss Army Knife of business jargon, a proxy for vaguely articulated thoughts that would be much better expressed through other words.

Leverage does not mean reuse, repurpose, copy, adapt, integrate or modify – all noble, labor-saving practices which I support. According to Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (Unabridged), leverage is not even a verb. To lever, by contrast, is a verb; it means to pry, raise, move or work with, as if with a lever. Why not say exactly what we mean, by choosing our words more carefully?

The other word that needs shredding and mulching is “learnings.” More and more, I hear people ask offer to summarize the “learnings” from a meeting, a project or a conference. As I write this, the red squiggly line of Microsoft Word suggests that this word “learnings” doesn’t even exist – a suspicion confirmed by my trusty Webster’s. We don’t learn learnings; we learn lessons. Or perhaps we didn’t lesson our learns in grammar school?

To reiterate, one of the great gifts of American English is its flexibility. Use it and love it. But try not to abuse our friendly lexicon, even unintentionally. So please, the next time someone suggests that we leverage their learnings, let’s send those ailing words to Washington.

I recently read an excellent book entitled Why Societies Need Dissent. Citing examples from the public and private sector, its author, University of Chicago law professor Cass Sunstein, methodically explores how and why groups often make bad decisions, as well the characteristics and behaviors of groups that make good decisions.

One common denominator is the degree to which groups large and small cultivate or suppress a diversity of opinion. Those that butt heads in constructive ways generally make better decisions. Those that don’t are essentially agreeing to make peace – not necessarily decisions that are in the group’s best interest.

At a time when society is paying the price for the silencing of dissenters and the appalling hubris of risk-takers – from the indicted hedge-fund managers at Bear Stearns to President Bush and his disastrous invasion of Iraq – America would do well to encourage a great deal more introspection, scrutiny and criticism, both in business and government.

As Sunstein writes: “Well-functioning societies benefit from a wide range of views; their citizens do not live in gated communities or echo chambers. The fantastic economic success of the United States owes everything to a culture of open information. Indeed, economic markets themselves embody norms of openness, ensuring success for those who innovate (and innovation is itself a form of dissent).”

That said, while many organizations say they like innovation, fewer actually tolerate – let alone encourage – internal dissent. Those employees that speak up – often with perspectives that don’t quite square with a corporation’s self-image or goals – are often marginalized. In the short term, this pressure to conform keeps the trains moving. Unfortunately, many such trains are often far down the wrong track when the wisdom of the dissenter’s voice later becomes apparent.

In related reading, I recently enjoyed another book, New Yorker writer James Surowiecki’s The Wisdom of Crowds. His basic argument is that groups generally make smarter decisions than individuals. One important characteristic of such successful groups is cognitive diversity – in other words, people with different opinions. Citing examples from NASA disasters during both the Apollo and Space Shuttle programs, Surowiecki argues that the Apollo group made better decisions due to its greater diversity.

“This seems hard to believe,” Surowiecki writes, “since every engineer at Mission Control in the late 1960s had the same crew cut and wore the same short-sleeved white shirt. But as [former Mission Control operator] Oberg points out, most of those men had worked outside of NASA in many different industries before coming to the agency. NASA employees today are far more likely to have come to the agency directly out of graduate school, which means they are also far less likely to have divergent opinions. That matters because, in small groups, diversity of opinion is the single best guarantee that the group will reap benefits from face-to-face discussion.”

That said, it’s still not always easy to speak out, to be different, to say no – especially in a culture that rewards conformity. Who likes to be the nail that people stub their toe on? Ultimately, we have to get along. But that doesn’t mean we have to go along. Take it from Thomas Jefferson, who penned the Declaration of Independence and ended up President. “A little rebellion now and then is a good thing,” he wrote. Maybe even inside the padded cubicle.