Older people write better digital content

I’ve just turned 41. I played football on my Birthday, ruptured my Achilles tendon and now I’m here with my leg in plaster. So I thought I’d mention one benefit of getting older.

Age (like laziness) makes people do things more efficiently. No unnecessary movements. The young squash player sprints about while his wiry old opponent barely moves from the ideal centre-T spot. The veteran wins (tendons willing).

Older writers learn to stay close to that ideal spot, because age brings wisdom about what does and doesn’t need saying. Ernest Hemingway (a particularly wiry veteran) called it iceberg theory:

If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. (from Death in the Afternoon)

The art of omission matures with age. There are many exceptions (several at The Art of Explaining), but in an era that’s made brevity a premium product, I’ve found older copywriters are more likely to command the T-spot.

Thomas Heath

Why communication failure is an unaffordable risk

Too many financial institutions are failing to turn the mistakes of others into lessons of sound governance. So what’s missing from the myriad rules designed to safeguard this industry? Only clarity and wisdom.

Your message read: send three and fourpence we’re going to a dance! No, we definitely said: send reinforcements we’re going to advance!

Since 1763 there have been 22 seminal economic crises. The Wall Street Crashes of 1929 and 2008 are stark examples. All have been caused by sudden changes of expectations, sending a glaring signal that the corporate mindset should be trained to anticipate and pre-empt.

But the signal hasn’t been getting through. Perhaps Mark Twain was wrong and lack of communication, not money, is the root of all evil. Gordon Gekko may claim that greed is good, but like all tunnel vision, it’s dangerous.

Ask Ivan Boesky.

There are 5 million small businesses in the UK employing around 14 million people. Each will have to grow and employ many more people if the country is to climb out of the financial trough. And are they getting the wisdom they need? No, they’re recipients of convoluted and complex rules, bureaucratic language and the subliminal command to ‘comply or die.’

Here’s some small print from a high street bank’s recently revised Customer Agreement:

The size of the induced gross credit paid is directly proportional to the rate at which the lines of wholesale return are cut with all other aspects applying mutatis mutandis.

What does it mean? That any gross income depends on market performance. The always-concise Latin bit means that any other necessary changes to this agreement have already been made. But if it’s a necessary change, well, I’d like to know what it is thank you. Mutatis mutandis yourself.

The founder-architect of all contemporary financial services regulation is the late Professor L.C.B. ‘Jim’ Gower. In 1986 he said that there was too much regulation already and saw no case for protecting fools from their own folly. All that regulation should do, he declared, was to try to stop people being made fools of.

Numerous Acts of Parliament since then, schemes and regulators (and their acronyms*) have come and gone like passing clouds, obscuring the view, shedding no wisdom and leaving only the vague sense of being treated like a fool.

(*FIMBRA, the long defunct Financial Intermediaries, Managers and Brokers Regulatory Association, came to be regarded as a condition of terminal eclipse, from the Latin finis, an end, and umbra, a shade).

Instead of wisdom being gleaned and passed on to all in financial services, the default setting has been to demand compensation or capital support when something goes wrong. Users have been allowed to believe that regulatory compliance has been thrown in for their benefit, free of cost. So they want and expect more from it, just as they would from a National Financial Health Service:

Ah, patient RBS. Yes, you did flatline. Not to worry. You’ll be fine. Have an intravenous solution of taxpayers’ money until you’re better.

Meanwhile, Gower turns in his grave.

Comply or die? No. Failing to communicate wisdom is its own risk, which can spell the death of a business and an entire economy.

Gary Hagland

Why medical information will get better

I’ve been taking pills. They’ve done wonders for my backache. And the name of this rejuvenating cure is ‘Rheumatac Retard 75’.

Rheumatac Retard. Can you feel the healing power? The warm glow of wellbeing? Me neither. Describing medicines has been a litigious, closely guarded business for as long as people have been taking them. So we get this odd language, locked down by regulation and detached from its audience.

But things have got better. Last week the British National Formulary published new guidelines on medicine instruction labels, based directly on user testing. The researchers found some people misunderstood phrases such as ‘avoid alcoholic drink’, but were clear if told ‘don’t drink alcohol while taking this medicine.’

Then there are Patient Information Leaflets (PILs) — those cleverly folded sheets of smallprint you get with every box of medicine. If you’re writing a PIL it must now be tested to prove patients can understand it. The Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency’s report Always Read the Leaflet has enough good advice on this to overwhelm most writers.

But there’s a bigger force on the side of clear patient information: the democratic power of the Internet.

Thanks to Google, we’re coming to expect that we can quickly find technical information on anything — a fridge, a bank account, a cure for backache — and that it’ll be written in a way we can understand.

Gerry McGovern points out that this knowledge was previously trapped inside a manual in a box sold with the product. But now it’s available online before we buy — and we’re judging products on the quality of this information.

This has massive implications for the way we choose and use every kind of product, including medicines. Ultimately, those who describe medical products will be forced to include patients in the conversation, not just because of regulation, but to avoid a more basic threat: being ignored.

Thomas Heath

How to explain first time

‘If you’re explaining you’re losing.’ That phrase recently came out to bite President Obama, after he gave a 17-minute answer to a short question about healthcare and taxes.

Healthcare and taxes, human rights, banking, the environment … too many of the most vital messages get beached like whales in our attention deficit disordered world. People have to understand first time. Get it? Got it. Good. If not, you lose.

To avoid losing, answer these questions before you try to explain:

1. Who cares and why?

2. How will I make a difference?

3. What’s the big idea?

We use this approach for scripting everything except Post-it notes. You can too.

Step One: Who cares and why?

Who’s your audience? What are they thinking? And why exactly would they be interested in you? Great if you know these people as individuals. If not then imagine them into life — and don’t be afraid to get creative. One trick is to find and print off an image that fits the person you imagine, then brainstorm the page into a collage of all the things that matter to them, personally and professionally, publicly and privately. (This is also a great way to profile customers. You can go further and turn the collage into a magazine cover.)

When you’ve decided what they want, ask how they’d like to be told. You can do communication preference analyses, or just use gut feeling: would they prefer a slick presentation, a detailed document and time to reflect, quick-fire emails, a phone call, or lunch?

Step Two: How will I make a difference?

What exactly are you going to explain and what will be the outcome? President Obama spent 17 minutes attempting to explain the inexplicable. Healthcare and taxes? That’s a game without frontiers: you lose before you begin.

So take time to define an outcome that is specific, achievable, positive, imaginable and measurable. A well-formed outcome sets the parameters for explaining. And there’s a good reason why this is step two: to set a relevant outcome you need to see through the eyes of your audience.

Step Three: What’s the big idea?

You wanted to explain something, remember? Since then, you’ve worked out who wants to know, why they’re interested and what you can do for them. So take all this insight and sum up your message as one big idea. You can do this using the situation/challenge/answer method for introductions: if you describe the situation and the challenge first then the big idea should fall into place as an answer to the challenge. You should be able to state your big idea in no more than a Tweet (140 characters).

Get this right and you’ve won: from here it’s just a matter of reinforcing the message. By explaining first time you can start to change the way people think. Here are three starting points that have helped shape our world:

Earth moves round the sun – Galileo

People are basically good – Ebay

Making mistakes is the most important thing you can do – Dyson

How computer code can improve your writing

As a writer, more and more of my words are published online. The more I work with web developers and designers, the more I see of the dark arts of coding. And do you know what? Writing code is just the same as writing words.

Developers and writers are doing the same things – the only difference is that while I want to communicate clearly to my reader, my developer is communicating with a web browser. Either way, we’re both using language to create specific outcomes.

Not convinced? Well, let me give you a few things that a good writer can learn from their web developer:

1. Know your outcomes

When a developer starts writing a piece of code, they’ll always have an outcome in mind.

They might be adding a sign-up box to capture email addresses. They might be adding more navigation links to a site’s navigation. They might be changing fonts and layout. They’ll know exactly what they want their code to do before they start writing that first line.

It’s the same for a writer – you need to know why you’re writing. Are you sharing information, or encouraging people to act? What exactly do you want them to take away? How are they going to do it? So for an email newsletter, your outcome might be clickthroughs to a specific news article. Once you know, you can start thinking about what to say.

2. Everything needs a purpose

Every single line of code, every single tag, should do something.

It’s all too easy to lose sight of that on a long-running project, though. There might be leftover code from previous versions, or hidden functionality that you’re not using. A good developer will keep this to the minimum, and keep their code lean.

It’s the same with writing – especially with big projects like annual reports or websites. As you refine your messages, you realise there are certain things you don’t need to say any more. To keep the writing – and the thinking – clear, you must edit ruthlessly, and ensure that every single word has a strong purpose.

3. Separate content from presentation

Individual web pages don’t carry any information about how they should look – they just hold the content. No colours, no font types, no background images – in fact, not much more than the words. All this data’s stored in another file, a ‘style sheet’, and linked to the web page. A savvy developer knows how the two work together, and keeping them separate makes it easier to get things right.

It’s similar to putting your words into design. Writing means concentrating on the content first, and then working with your designer to present them properly. So take a cue from programmers and put together your first draft in a simple text editor like notepad. Only having to worry about the words can be liberating, and soon shows up any weaknesses that you might paper over with bold type, headings and italics.

4. Get the order right

Information flows best with a clear order. And unless you’ve got a very good reason, that means the most important stuff comes first and then the details follow.

In HTML, information needs to follow a particular hierarchy. Get it wrong and your site won’t work – it either won’t render properly, or the search engines will ignore it.

It’s the same for writers – if you’re not up-front with what’s important, people won’t read it. Make it easy to grasp your message from the start, and then follow it up with the specifics.

While HTML markup might be an unusual place to look for inspiration, there are more than a handful of similarities.

Pete Cornes

Unusual advice on how to begin a proposal

Decision makers love to say ‘I only ever read the executive summary’. And the way you start your proposal tends to seal its fate. It’s your Dragon’s Den moment: 45 seconds to convince a tough audience. Better make it good.

But I see many proposal writers get overwhelmed by the occasion. The point gets lost in a parade of corporate niceties, with much cap doffing and polite procrastination: ‘we’re delighted to submit this proposal for your attention… the company is committed to…’. That kind of thing.

Look up advice on writing executive summaries and you’ll find differing lists of items you might want to include: mission statements, team members, and so on. Combine those lists together and you’ve got a monster. Meanwhile, your dragon’s flown away.

What to do? First be clear what ‘executive summary’ means:

1. You’re summarising an idea, not a document.

2. You want an executive outcome — decisions, action.

So how can you use the executive summary to sell your idea and achieve the outcome? By telling a story.

Seriously. All stories have three basic parts: a situation that interests the audience, a challenge to that situation, and an answer to that challenge. Smart thinkers such as Barbara Minto and Neil Rackham have shown how these ingredients make a magic mixture for winning hearts and minds. Here’s a recipe*:

1. Say something positive about the situation, which is undeniably true (obvious, in fact) and sparks the most interest.

2. Describe the challenge or complication to the situation that’s prompted this document and ask: what’s to be done?

3. Present your answer to this challenge — with fanfare, because this is the big idea that defines and organises everything else your document should say.

Can you see the story structure in this post? I began with the spark: executive summaries matter. I described the challenge: how to make them effective? And I gave my answer: use the power of storytelling.

It works whatever the subject of your proposal:

Engineering contract:

- Situation: pipeline safety matters
- Challenge: safety being compromised
- Answer: this gadget will fix it.

Customer service policy:

- Situation: our products can empower our customers
- Challenge: poor technical support is holding them back
- Answer: we need this new support package.

Procurement decision:

- Situation: we depend on our suppliers
- Challenge: we’ve now got to choose: A or B?
- Answer: Supplier B is best (as our document will explain).

Something for the weekend:

- Situation: We love family outings
- Challenge: how to keep up with Grandpa + little Ben
- Answer: Let’s go surfing.

So — to sell your idea by the end of the executive summary, ditch the niceties, look your reader in the eye and tell them a story.

*based on guidelines for introductions from Barbara Minto’s Pyramid Principle.

The benefits of sounding like Jamie Oliver

You may not want to resemble Jamie Oliver in any way, but his writing has qualities of energy, confidence and ownership that any organisation can harness by changing a few writing habits.

So let’s take a peek at The Naked Chef. Here’s a passage I sometimes use in workshops:

“I do love food – I’m obsessed by it. I think about breakfast in the evening and dinner at breakfast. I often daydream about family dinners ten days in advance… It goes a bit like this: English asparagus has come in, the peas are sweet and bursting in your mouth, the mint in the herb box is growing like the clappers and strangling the rosemary, leafy Sicilian lemons are about – bloody hell, this is great – I know for a fact that I’ve got some extra virgin olive oil stashed in the back of the cupboard at home, some great Arborio risotto rice, some tagliatelle or spaghetti even, I’ve got fresh organic eggs which are double-yolkers and golden and I’ve got a couple of those goose eggs from Mr Turnip down Borough Market. I could make a frittata with some Pecorino and Parmesan, or maybe some goat’s cheese. My mouth’s beginning to water; right, I’ll buy those peas mate and I’ll have that asparagus. I’ll eat some of these peas raw while I’m waiting to pay.”

It’s convincing because he writes as he speaks. He crams each line with detail that supports his point (that it’s great to love food). Everything is positive. And he uses the active voice.

Too many organizations are guilty of stamping out the active voice. Compare ‘I’ll fix this’ with ‘This will be fixed’. The first statement is active. The action and the person doing it are made clear. And the writer has taken ownership for fixing. It says here’s a positive, hands-on working culture where people naturally think, speak and write in an active way: ‘I’ll check that for you; I’ll follow this up; we’ll work it out…’

The second is passive and unclear: who will fix it? It’s the talk of an impersonal, disengaged work culture: ‘this will be reviewed; arrangements have been made; a resolution will be reached; you’ll be informed in due course…’

People still say ‘it’s more than my job’s worth’ without irony. This is a passive statement about being passive to a passive situation. Any taste of action or involvement is lost deep in a layer-cake of negativity.

Language and attitudes reinforce each other. I work with several FTSE100 companies who have invested in switching to active language for all their written communications, because they understand that sounding just a bit more like Jamie is a pukka way to embed a positive work ethic.