WORD SIMPLE

Recognize our headline? 

We (ahem!) borrowed it from a well-known tech company’s marketing campaign.

After all, the same sort of principles apply when talking simplification, whether in work or in words.  At least, we think so.  Route out the extraneous and the unnecessary (according to customers and users) and streamline, right?

Not.  So.  Fast.

Ownership of words within corporations tends to be (pick one) 1) mandated by the brand, 2) dominated by corporate functions like marketing and HR, 3) supervised by leaders, and/or 4) required by message stewards.  When interminably long documents and three-paragraph sentences dominate, it’s clear that someone isn’t paying attention to the eight-second rule.

Which is now the length of our attention span.

There are all sorts of reasons why business text is so hard to understand.  Like these:

“Defensive compliance” (consider annual reports and 10Ks)

“Bureaucratic tradition” (think government forms, even do-it-yourself instructions)

“Mindblindness” (the term psychologists use when folks are numb to their own knowledge).

What we know for sure is that someone (perhaps the author, maybe not) isn’t checking with his/her prospective readers, calibrating reactions, answering questions, and ensuring that at least a handful of audience members understand the points.  And when the average 10K in 2013 accounted for 42,000 words, someone, somewhere just didn’t want to be understood.

Mark Twain had us at this:  “I would have written that shorter, but I didn’t have the time.”  [Or was it Blaise Pascal?]

‘TIS A GIFT

Lately, our eyes are glazing over more often.

 It’s not because of aggravated presbyopia.  Nor hours of Web surfing.  Or even our occasional trips in visual stimulation (read:  shopping of all sorts).

 Instead, we’re attributing that “duh” look to the ever-increasing complexity of, well, stuff.  Charlie Sheen’s tour name, My Violent Torpedo of Truth, mesmerizes without saying much.  Twitter handles and comments are all-too-often incomprehensible.  Parsing the latest U.S. diplomat’s Middle Eastern speech to uncover possible solutions is just too taxing.

 That’s true for design too.   Photos and illustrations appear sans captions, and often are only somewhat relevant to the subject.  New brands take into account all colors of the rainbow, yet miss the product or company’s critical essence.  Web sites – ah, don’t get us started.

 All we’re saying is give simplicity a chance.  There’s incredible under-acknowledged power in being brief and to the point.  There’s drama, too, in the understated look and feel, one that matches the brand, its attributes, and its personality.   Even in the ethereal, consensus-driven business of crafting vision and mission statements, straightforward is beginning to rule.

 One example, touted by trend-watcher Fortune magazine:  Oracle.  In an industry that’s polka-dotted with jargon and acronyms that change daily, this California company is (and we quote) “masterful at using basic messages to communicate the complicated nature of its products.”  What does Oracle say about itself?  “Hardware and software, engineered to work together.” 

Expect, soon, an avalanche of simplification gurus, folks who’ll, for a fee, help whittle down words and pictures.    If that process trues up with what you and your company stand for, great.  

 If not?   We admit, it isn’t easy to clean up long-used language and visuals.  Owners and originators can bristle, understandably so.  Sometimes it involves almost literal wrestling matches with the message holders.   And sometimes, it makes sense to stand aside, fold our arms, and mutter one Yiddish word.  Ferblungit.*  

 Welcome to our world.

 

*[It’s simple:  Get the meaning from its sound.]

IS LESS REALLY MORE?

Living in a city of architectural wonders does lead to complacency.  How often can you appreciate the works of Frank Lloyd Wright and Mies van der Rohe (and Louis Sullivan and … ) – when you ride past them every day?

 That feeling changed with our weekend drive on Lake Shore Drive.  It synched up the relationship – more than just design/style - between what we do and the skyscrapers and Prairie homes we love.  The connection is deep, and more than visceral. 

 The elegance of, say, a Robie House or the 860-880 North LSD condos resides in its position within the environment.  Wright was a firm proponent of the organic, one of the first sustainability advocates.   And van der Rohe, a fan of architectural clarity within a free-flowing environment.     Both, as pioneers, were extremely particular about their style, their designs, and their final “outcomes.”   Both edited their work, and those of their disciples, ruthlessly. 

 Lately, that editing process, in our minds, is what the creative community frequently misses.  We expect back and forths within our teams and between us and our corporate clients.  We anticipate that these conversations will change copy, creative, and meaning, all to better represent the culture and the brand and meet agreed-on goals.  We also know that changes reflect a very human desire to leave a personal mark.  So when it’s complete, the medium – a video, Web 2.0 tool, brand identity, collateral – becomes part of a larger whole, ready to change behavior, ramp up revenue, or attract new clients.

 But will it?  Has it been refined enough so the non-designer, the “end user,” our friends and family will get it?  Can we somehow recruit a Strunk & White to every team, client and consultant, to say it simply and compellingly? Let’s take our egos out of the equation, and delete extra colors and additional images.  Not to mention extra sentences.

 

Less is more.