Are you a simplifier or a “complexifier”?

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See more great quotes like this at http://startupquote.com/

See more great quotes like this one at http://startupquote.com/

I realized something new about Corporate Blah Blah today. Corporate speak isn’t always a writing or speaking problem. It’s often a thinking problem.

Makes sense. You have to have a clear thought in order to write about it in a clean, clear, concise way. It helps to be a good sorter, organizer and weeder-outer.

Side note: Does this mean that people with tidy desks, organized files and categorized e-mails make better communicators? Wow. That’s something to debate, isn’t it? (Although I will take a stand and say that people with tidy desks, organized files and categorized e-mails do make better proofreaders. But that’s for another blog post.)

Back to my point: None of this means that complex subjects can’t be communicated clearly. They can be. But you need to start by breaking them down into easy-to-understand tidbits, which you’ll then logically organize in your brain before you start writing…or open your mouth. That’s how you can be a simplifier.

On the other hand, “complexifiers” thrive on Corporate Blah Blah. (Thanks to Ron Ashkenas at Harvard Business Review for teaching me that new word!)

Here’s what Ron said:

“Complexifiers have a hard time communicating their plans to colleagues and customers, relying on intricate charts and diagrams and convoluted slides rather than simple, straightforward messages. One of the key characteristics of a simplifier is the ability to tell stories that convey the situation, the goals, and the plans — in a way that helps people understand what they need to do and how their work fits with everything else.”

Read more at: Overcome the Complexity Within You – Ron Ashkenas – Harvard Business Review.

Round of Ap-blahs

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When's the last time you read a law office newsletter that you couldn't put down? Attorney Richard Pignatiello shows lawyers how it's done — with colorful real-life stories flavored with his own voice and personality.

When’s the last time you read a law office newsletter that you couldn’t put down? Attorney Richard Pignatiello shows lawyers how it’s done — with colorful, real-life stories flavored with his own voice and personality.

…to attorney Richard Pignatiello, who sends out the most entertaining, can’t-put-them-down newsletters to his clients and friends.

Not exactly what you’d expect from a law office. There’s not one mention of “years of experience” or “gaining recovery” or “litigation.” And there’s no hard sell to get you to call “if you or a loved one has been injured….”

There are just stories like this one, from Richard’s “From My Files” column:

Then She Told Me Something That Changed Everything

She had nothing to lose.

She told me her story. And she told me the names of the other attorneys she had met with. Most of them I knew. Some of them I even liked. And they had all given her good advice. She had nothing to lose.

The judge she had drawn had a well-documented history of handing down the maximum sentence. In this case, six months in jail for a second offense. No exceptions. Pleading guilty also would mean six months in jail. So I told her again, “You have nothing to lose by taking this to trial.”

But then she told me something that changed everything.

Her ex-husband was just waiting for an opportunity to strip her of custody of their 5-year-old son. He had been threatening to do so. He lived in California. If she pled guilty or was found guilty, she would most certainly lose custody of her son.

The threat of jail time? That didn’t scare her. The thought that she might lose her child? That was destroying her. She had, in fact, everything to lose.

So I said to her, “Let’s start over.”

She was employed part-time in the evening as a bartender at a local establishment. The grandmother cared for her son while she worked.

She had worked her shift one evening. And she’d had a few drinks. Her shift over, she headed for home, driving her car in the freezing rain. Her car hit a patch of black ice and skidded off the road. It became stuck in the hard snow packed on the side of the road. She tried to free the car. Forward. Reverse. Forward. Reverse.

With the weather turning worse and no help in sight, she left her car at the site of the accident and started to walk home. As she walked, a driver pulled up. He offered her a ride. She accepted.

Once home, shaken by the experience, she drank an entire bottle of wine and went to bed. In the middle of the night, there was a knock at the door.

She opened the door to find two police officers standing on her front porch. She was arrested for DUI in her own home.

Now, I know what you are thinking, and I’m not saying you are wrong. Don’t drink and drive. But my job was not to judge her. It was to help.

We decided I would take the case to trial. We knew the outcome if she were convicted. But because of her son, we would try.

In the months following, with my investigator, we continued to piece together the events of the night in question. The trial date moved closer. New facts came to light. It was the driver. The one who had offered her the ride home. He had thought he smelled alcohol on her breath. After he drove her home, he called the police.

The expert witnesses and police officers who were called to the stand were skilled at court room testimony. The prosecutor was experienced, and it showed. After watching the case put on by the prosecution, everyone would agree that this was indeed a very strong DUI case against my client.

Then it was our turn.

And I didn’t see it that way.

I believed the arresting officers had no right to arrest my client, at her home. They charged her with a crime that neither they nor anyone else witnessed. They had a witness who provided a ride home but did not actually witness anything.

Yes, my client had failed the field sobriety test the police administered in her driveway at the time of the arrest. Yes, she failed the breathalyzer they gave her at the police station hours after the accident.

But was she legally drunk at the time of the accident? Could they prove it?

While the jury was in deliberations, we reviewed the plans she had made in preparing for this moment. Her boss had agreed to hold her job for her until she was released. The grandma would take care of her son.

The jury returned. The foreman read the verdict. And then he said something that changed everything: “Not guilty.”

Hooray! Doesn’t that make you want to stand up and cheer? And I don’t mean for the thrilling conclusion to the underdog story. Richard’s brilliant self-promotion is worth celebrating. He understands the value of showing rather than telling. Instead of writing about how “results-oriented” and “client-focused” he is, he displays it in a real-life example (with identifying information changed, of course) that showcases his voice and personality.

Plus he doesn’t try to impress anybody with legalese. He writes with short words in short sentences and short paragraphs, and morphs a 700-word legal article into a gripping short story.

After reading an article like this, not only do I think Richard is competent, I like him. There’s no question who is first on my list next time I need legal counsel. Case closed.

The magic question that makes my writing better

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This week I’m writing some features & benefits copy for a new client, an HVAC (heating, ventilation and air conditioning) manufacturer. Can’t say I know a whole lot about evaporative coolers and heat exchangers, but I’m learning. And I’ve worked with enough industrial clients to know that silicone seals, long-lasting pillow block bearings and rust-through warranties are good things.

Besides, my client knows there’s value in my being an industry outsider. He says if I can translate their lingo into marketing copy that makes sense to me, it’ll be simpler for industry insiders to understand and communicate, too. (Wise man.)

When we first sat down to talk about his company and products, I got a whole lesson in speaking “HVAC.” Here’s a snippet:

  • VFD = Variable Frequency Drive (like the dimmer switch in my dining room; you can increase or decrease power as needed)
  • PLC = Programmable Logic Controller (basically, software that automates your HVAC equipment — as well as other electromechanical things — like a programmable thermostat)
  • HMI = Human-Machine Interface (the computer screen where you can click buttons and do other stuff that lets you control the big equipment)

Now, I don’t expect to oversimplify the client’s marketing copy so it sounds like something written by an eighth grader. But it doesn’t hurt for me to comprehend it like an eighth grader — and write it so an eighth grader could understand it.

In fact, that’s exactly what I ask sources to help me do during interviews. Even when talking to orthopedic surgeons or banking executives, if I’m not getting clear information, I’ll ask them the magic question that instantly clarifies everything: “How would you explain that to an eighth grader?”

In other words: “Don’t try to impress me (or your boss or our readers) with your vocabulary and intellect. Just say it — in Real People Talk.”

That’s when I get the most colorful, accurate, jargon-free explanations. And that’s when my best writing can happen.

For business communications, I usually aim for a ninth grade or lower reading level, as rated by Flesch-Kincaid. Readability experts claim the front page of The Wall Street Journal is written at ninth grade level, so that seems pretty reasonable even for a well-read audience. (Hey, smart people like easy-to-read info, too. This blog post was written at eighth grade level, and you didn’t mind. Did you?)

The HVAC marketing copy is a work in progress. I have more to learn. But with a client who is all about saying things simply, I can’t wait to see how fascinating we can make air rotation units.

 

Slather some Mayo on that medical writing

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Spread the news! Mayo Clinic knows what’s good: using simile in medical writing.

I’m all about making communication easier to read and easier to understand. And I’m a firm believer that you can’t go wrong if you say things simply. But, wow, have I been thrown off by a recent outpouring of medical writing assignments.

Aiming for a 9.0 or lower Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level and a 50.0 or higher Flesch Reading Ease score has gone out the window. Those goals just aren’t realistic when you’re writing about “pediatric orthopaedic surgery” or “intraperitoneal chemotherapy.” So much for averaging 5.0 characters per word.

In fact, one seasoned medical writer advised that if I get closer to an 11.0 Flesch-Kincade Grade Level, I’m doing well. But I’m sure even that is near impossible when writing for a physician audience…for medical journals and such.

Just today, I was drafting some web copy about herniated discs and came across this info on a top-ranked back pain website:

The nucleus pulposus of the disc contains a lot of water, which lets it bear weight and transfer load much like pressing on a water balloon. The contents of the nucleus of an injured disc may leak out into the outer layers or all the way through those layers to the nearby nerve roots exiting from the cauda equina (the lower end of the spinal cord).

Okay. Water balloon. I kind of understood it — at least enough to write something intelligent for my client.

But then I read this on the Mayo Clinic website:

A spinal disk is a little like a jelly donut, with a softer center encased within a tougher exterior. A herniated disk occurs when some of the softer “jelly” pushes out through a crack in the tougher exterior. A herniated disk can irritate nearby nerves and result in pain, numbness or weakness in an arm or leg.

Crystal clear! A herniated disc is like a smooshed jelly donut. What a great simile! And I appreciate how they continued to call the insides “jelly” instead of “nucleus pulposus.”

(The “jelly donut” version scores a solid 11.0 grade level, by the way. The “nucleus pulposus” version scores a 12.0…which still isn’t bad by medical writing standards. But what a difference for readers!)

While I’m not a big fan of jelly donuts, I’m becoming a big fan of Mayo. And I intend to start slathering its goodness all over my medical writing.

Anyone have a good simile for transforaminal injection?

Round of Ap-blahs

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…to Chase, for the customer e-mail I got last week. (See below.)

You don’t have to read the whole thing — all 125 words of it — because all you need to know is in the head and subhead:

  • Chase is making their website better for me.
  • The look is changing.
  • My User ID and password aren’t changing.

Wow! Talk about “Clearer” and “Simpler”! I got the full story in 5 to 10 seconds. And if that’s a taste of what’s to come on the website, I almost can’t wait to pay my next credit card bill.

Thanks, Chase. That was a lovely customer communication — and a great model for the next direct mail piece I write.

 

Doozy of the Week

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Oh no, they didn’t!

Sometimes even the best communicators succumb to Corporate Blah Blah. Maybe because it’s easier to get approvals on vague statements that make all your sources happy. Or because some business folk think the only intelligent style of writing is that which sounds like a business school textbook. Or because you naturally start to communicate in the language you’re immersed in — English, Spanish, Mandarin, Blah Blah.

Regardless, we all do it now and then. Even the elite of corporate communication — the powers at the International Association of Business Communicators (IABC).

They sent me an e-mail last month, inviting me to take a survey about something or other. I’m still not sure what. Here’s what the e-mail said:

Building on our commitment to provide exceptional value for members, the 2010 international board set the wheels in motion to develop a career path that would be a new global pillar of excellence for our profession. What began as a single project has grown into an association-wide initiative that will change who we are by bringing clarity and more relevance to the members we serve and the businesses that you serve.

In 2010 we established the Lifelong Learning Committee to develop a roadmap of the communication career continuum that would align important programs like the Gold Quill Awards, Accreditation and professional development with your needs. We have held two Career Summits and facilitated topic-based dialogue with communication professionals across the globe. As we listened to and learned from members, IABC’s global standard took on a broader value that called for a clearly defined body of knowledge for business communication.

In February, eight knowledge areas capturing the essence of the profession were proposed to the board. These knowledge areas capture IABC’s global standard, and serve as the overarching categories representing the breadth of knowledge that you need to become a strategic business partner.

Our 18-month journey has been rich with discovery, and we are ready to move to the next level. That’s where you come in….

After reading that, I’m not sure I want to come in. Anything that includes the phrase “roadmap of the communication career continuum” sounds scarier to me than Stephen King’s The Shining.

“Facilitated topic-based dialogue” could be dreadful, too. But when unmasked, it’s not so horrifying. It just means “talked about specific things.”

There are some bright spots, though. For one, “IABC’s global standard took on a broader value.” Not sure how to translate that, but it sounds almost as good as “mui beneficioso.” And then there’s everyone’s favorite: “We are ready to move to the next level.” Phew. Because this level is way too confusing for me. Let’s just go to the next one and see if things get clearer up there.

Now, I don’t mean to “blahspheme” IABC. I’ve been a satisfied member and active promoter for almost 15 years. But this Doozy is proof that we’re all susceptible to Corporate Blah Blah — even those of us who preach against it. Stay alert!

 

The best disclaimer I’ve ever read

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The Harvard Business Review blog network typically has some well-written, thought-provoking posts. But the one I read today, “Yes, Corporations Are People,” is worthy of praise — not as much for its commentary or writing but for the editor’s footnote:

Editor’s note: The author — or, more to the point, his company’s lawyers — would really like you to know that RBC Wealth Management – U.S. is a division of RBC Capital Markets, LLC, a member of NYSE/FINRA/SIPC.

In other words, “We don’t think you’ll care, but some lawyers are making us tell you this.”

That’s the best disclaimer I’ve ever read. And, as an ad agency proofreader, I read lots of them.

Who’d have thought that a disclaimer — typically a hotbed of legal-speak and Corporate Blah Blah — could be personable and even slightly sarcastic?


Measure Clarity the Easy Way

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The 68-page report on Managing Clarity in Corporate Communication is a lot to chew on. That’s why I picked out just the best parts and boiled them down into easy-to-digest blog postings, like:

But here’s another tasty morsel:
Best Part #4:   Measure Clarity the Easy Way

Slim chance you’ll ever find a business writer who doesn’t intend to be clear. We all think our writing is clear, right? It’s clear to us, anyway.

But how do we know if it’s clear to anyone else?

Report authors Martin Eppler and Nicole Bischof make it easy to find out. You can measure communication clarity (on a scale of 0 to 10) by asking readers 5 questions:

  1. Was it clear why this message was sent to you?
    - No indication (0 points)
    - Some indication (1 point)
    - Communication context clearly indicated (2 points)
  2. Did you understand the structure of this message?
    - No explicit structure (0 points)
    - Somewhat unclear structure (1 point)
    - Very clear and visible structure (2 points)
  3. Are any parts of this message non-essential?
    - Many superfluous items (0 points)
    - Some superfluous items (1 point)
    - No superfluous items (2 points)
  4. Are any words ambiguous, unclear or otherwise difficult to interpret?
    - Many ambiguous terms (0 points)
    - Some ambiguous terms (1 point)
    - No ambiguous terms (2 points)
  5. Does the communication provide useful illustrations that resonate with you?
    - No useful illustrations/examples (0 points)
    - Somewhat useful illustrations/examples (1 point)
    - Very useful illustrations/examples (2 points)

Add up your points, and score your success on this scale:

  • 0 = Clear as mud
  • 10 = Clear as crystal

Coming soon:
Best Part #5:  Writing Lessons from 1946 

Doozy of the Week

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This just in:

Four of Cruise Holidays Luxury Cruise Counselors cruise experts returned last week from the naming ceremony and christening cruise of Oceania Cruises’ newest luxury ship, Riviera.

Wait. Is this about a…cruise?

I need a vacation — okay, a deep breath — just from reading that lead in a May 21 press release.

The problem isn’t really with the lead as much as with the name of the company, Cruise Holidays Luxury Cruise Counselors. Let’s run that name by the Department of Redundancy Department.

What sentence wouldn’t be awkward with that company name in it? And it becomes doubly redundant when followed by “experts” or “associates” or some other word for people (e.g., “Cruise Holidays Luxury Cruise Counselors counselors know all about sailing the high seas.”)

Does that make it redundantly redundant?

How would I write it? Well, if I couldn’t change the company name:

Four experts from of Cruise Holidays Luxury Cruise Counselors cruise experts returned last week from the naming ceremony and christening cruise of Oceania Cruises’ newest luxury ship, Riviera.