Businesses and organisations generate whole forests of written material. Yet how much of it actually gets read? How do we know? And even if it is read, do readers get the right messages? Howard Warner asks some tough questions, and suggests solutions for communication-conscious employers.
This is a story of mixed messages and lost opportunities. But there is an uplifting moral.
Once I was contracted by a public-serving organisation to translate a series of published information brochures into plain English. These went out to all employers throughout New Zealand — every builder, trucking contractor and hair-salon owner as well as corporate CEOs and HR managers. My brief was to apply my wordsmithing skills so that all employers, big and small, could understand this important information.
The committee of a dozen good folk who ordered the job were mostly lawyers and accountants by training. So it was no surprise that the material was in their language to begin with.
I turned the job over in one intensive weekend. The committee deliberated. The verdict came back: “Excellent stuff. We love what you’ve done. But there’s just a few things we can’t really say, because we have to be careful of … owe it to our stakeholders … we don’t really talk like that … it might be better if …”
I was asked to collate the committee’s changes. I did this, meticulously. After all, they were my masters — it was their message, their communication. By the time I’d finished, the brochures were — surprise, surprise — exactly the same as they had started out.
The committee were very satisfied with the result. They paid me handsomely for my labours. They presumably went away confident that they’d fulfilled their obligations.
Yes, they probably did satisfy the demands of the ‘powers that be’. But what about the real audience — employers? Were they aware anything had changed? Did the relationship between the organisation and employers improve dramatically because of this ‘re-publication’ exercise? Or did those valuable messages continue to sit — unread or misunderstood ─ on office shelves and dashboards throughout the land?
Thinking back on this experience, I feel it needed some naive or plain-speaking person, like the little boy in the old fairy-tale The Emperor’s New Clothes, to cry out:
“Hang on a minute, I don’t understand a word!”
It begs a big question ─ in public writing, who has ultimate responsibility for the message getting understood?
If that 10-page job description attracts the wrong sort of candidates, is it their fault for not being on the employer’s wavelength. If a party to a contract fails to grasp the fine points, should they never enter into agreements? Or should the onus be on the writer to make it crystal clear?
I use the term ‘public writing’ broadly. It’s basically any writing for an audience that is predominantly, or even partially, non-specialist. When peers communicate ─ say, two lawyers, two roading engineers, two dairy researchers ─ they can use the same language and be reading off the same page, so to speak. But when the reader differs from the writer, whether by occupation, status, culture, knowledge of the topic or interest in the topic, then something has to give.
The obvious conclusion is that documents which treat the reader as the most important element are ‘smart’; those that ignore or forget the reader aren’t.
So what makes a document smart?
- Most importantly, it uses language the reader is familiar and comfortable with.
- It is structured in a logical, helpful way.
- It is visually presented in a striking, helpful way.
- The sentences are short and easy to grasp, yet varied.
- It is built around strong, active verbs.
- The messages are clear.
- The headings and titles are dynamic and well thought-out.
- It uses positive language.
- It uses words everyone knows.
- It is free of distracting errors or inconsistencies (of spelling, grammar, punctuation or typography).
Presumably, a ‘dumb’ document would do all the opposite things. Yet if you analyse a cross-section of public documents, you’ll find that most fail the ‘plain language’ tests on all counts.
I first became aware of the potential gulf between message giver and receiver when I was a young reporter, covering district court.
The judge was passing sentence. In the time-honoured ritual, the defendant stood in the dock, a police officer positioned watchfully behind. The judge sat up on his perch, begowned and stern-faced. He cleared his throat and began talking, using expressions like “the court takes a dim view of…”, “ unmitigated burden on society…”, “power vested in me by…”. The defendant shuffled his feet and looked across to the public gallery. Then the judge deliver his coup de gras: “preventive measures…”, “at her Majesty’s pleasure”. And the officer led the defendant away.
The judge was sitting back in his throne, looking most satisfied with his oratory. But I realised the young guy in the dock, unschooled in the ways and language of law, had understood not a word. Just more lawyers gabbling ─ nothing to do with him.
I know this is an oral example. Yet the same applies in writing ─ except the audience is even less obvious because they’re not standing right in front of you.
Organisations that have embraced plain English (and believe me, they’re a tiny percentage of those who communicate in writing) have discovered benefits way beyond the cost and inconvenience of implementing this change. Here are just a few examples of what plain English can do for you:
- communicate complex details clearly
- show empathy and build trust
- prevent embarrassment, loss of face, complaints or damaging outcries
- show clear thinking
- enhance your credibility
- streamline ineffective or unproductive processes
- save time
- save money
- improve marketing and sales
So why don’t more people use plain or audience-focussed English if it’s so smart?
Well, plain English as a defined concept is still fairly novel ─ even though ‘clever’ wordsmiths (the editors of various Bible editions, Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, Hemingway) have been wise to it for centuries. As with anything new, people resist at first. They erect barriers to shut out the unfamiliar.
A recent survey of UK managers, conducted by the Chartered Management Institute, highlighted a number of consistent motivational stumbling blocks or “barriers to success”. These include bureaucracy, lack of resources, lack of internal support and a shortage of relevant training
Similar barriers are evident in the widespread resistance to plain English. For the practice to take hold in the corporate world, the barriers need breaking down:
They may be organisational:
- Templates are in place which every new employee learns to adopt unthinkingly.
- The boss writes densely, so everyone follows suit.
- Learning and development is either nonexistent or it considers writing skills a low priority.
- Staff who write lack a sense of connection with their audience.
- There’s an ingrained culture of ‘airbrushing’ information, so no one can be called to account.
- No credence is given and no resources are allocated to quality control of written communication.
They may be cultural barriers:
- Second-language writers perpetuate models from their native land.
- They think ‘plain’ equates to impolite.
- They don’t know how to do it and are wary of losing face.
- People of a certain generation or schooling sometimes carry perceptions about what is acceptable or ‘correct’.
Certainly, there often personal barriers:
- Workplace writers lack skills or confidence to try something different.
- They can’t really be bothered.
- Or they’ve simply never thought of it.
The big challenge for organisations is how to change the culture.
The first, most vital step is to get to know your audience. It’s amazing how many organisations churn out written stuff without ever asking their readers what they think of it.
This can be done through market research: questionnaires, focus groups, phone surveys. But there is a simple way that anyone who writes can access. Though we all have our difficult or complex specialties, we are all expert readers too. I can spout linguistics jargon but I’m lost with a legal contract, software instructional manual or medical report. Yet a lawyer, programmer or surgeon, at ease with their own subject and language, will struggle with documents I can write in my sleep. So try to imagine yourself as a poor reader with no prior knowledge of your subject. You’ll be halfway to writing plainly and effectively.
An organisation can play its part with internal processes: auditing their documents for effective, reader-focussed communication; developing writing standards; incorporating these standards into performance evaluations. It can instigate dedicated check levels using skilled content checkers, language checkers, proof-readers and production editors.
Learning and development (training, coaching, mentoring) is an obvious pathway to improving the writing culture. Even a little informal feedback (from superiors, underlings, peers) can go a long way. Obviously, people have to be open to it rather than defensive. Even the best writers welcome objective and constructive criticism. Perhaps peer reviewing can be incorporated into policy, as a backstop to those formal checking procedures.
Many wonderful resources are out there to help you write easily, efficiently and in language suited to your readers. There are books, websites, on-line tools, e-learning modules. Dictionaries are great for checking spelling and directories for checking names and contact details. (Spell-checkers are limited – they only show up questionable spellings, not dubious words or syntactic difficulties. And grammar-checkers tell when they don’t recognise a pattern, but not why it’s wrong or how to fix it.) An organisation can help its writers by making these resources widely available and encouraging staff to use them.
And of course there are good models. If you write a lot and want your words to hit the mark, try collecting examples of effective writing that you’ve received as a lay reader. Think about how it makes you feel, how the writer achieves it, and how you could do the same. Then practise, practise, practise.
And so to that uplifting moral I mentioned at the start. It is that every message has its audience. A written document that captivates its readers and imparts the message clearly is a wondrous thing. And this is within every public writer’s reach.
SIDEBAR:
To embrace smart writing, the ideal employer would:
1. Know and respect their readers.
2. Periodically assess their document-producing operation.
3. Develop effective-writing standards.
4. Support staff with training or coaching.
5. Incorporate writing evaluation into performance reviews.
6. Set up a dedicated system of document checks, for quality control and consistency.
7. Recognise writing skill as separate from status or seniority.
May 2007
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