Perfect communication is a fiction. You know this.
Childhood games of “whispers” or “telephone” were fun because we mangle messages. Now, it’s not so fun. Chocolate conversations. Cryptic emails from your boss that could masquerade as secret notes in the DaVinci Code. One hundred-page PowerPoint decks that you don’t want to read. No message discipline. A strategy that seems grand at the start line, but, when communicated as a set of goals, fizzles out well short of the finish line.
The only perfect communication—at least in my memory—is in the OG Star Trek. In season one’s ninth episode, “Dagger of the Mind,” Spock, the half-alien, all-logical ship’s science officer, performs a Vulcan Mind Meld. This is a telepathic bond that temporarily joins two minds together.
Perfect communication as science fiction.
Again and again, research and real-life experience suggest that when communication is simpler and more concrete, it’s better. Again, we know this. Yet we substitute information for insight. Terms of art and acronyms creep in, aiding speed but increasing complexity.
As leaders, we communicate, but:
We confuse volume for clarity.
We confuse detail for simplicity.
We confuse agreement for alignment.
We confuse activity for action.
We confuse talking for communication.
What’s the point of communication if the message isn’t getting through?
The onus is on us. The speaker, not the listener. The job of the communicator: to be more simple; more concrete.
“You know too much, and you’re too passionate about it.”
This sounds like a compliment. It isn’t. It’s a shorthand way of describing the problem all leaders face in communication.
It’s an easy trap to fall into. Let me explain.
Cognitive load theory suggests that simplifying information reduces mental strain, which helps comprehension and learning. Simply put, if you take away the irrelevant, the relevant is easier to process.
The “Curse of Knowledge” highlights the problem topically well-informed people have in communicating said topic: They assume others share that same level of understanding. It’s OK if rocket scientists are talking to other rocket scientists, but when another equally intelligent group, say brain surgeons, are involved, communication falters.
Decision fatigue kicks in. Too many choices and too much complex information make it harder to judge and make decisions. For many, it’s easier to order food from a short menu than a long one.
And those are the barriers to simplicity. When it comes to concreteness:
Dual coding theory is the idea that concrete words and visuals—things we can see in our mind’s eye—are processed in the verbal and non-verbal systems in our brains. This makes them easier to understand, remember, and recall.
The picture superiority effect backs this up; where people remember visual information better than text alone.
Perhaps not surprisingly, studies show that messages with specific, concrete details are more likely to be perceived as credible. People trust information that is more concrete than vague and abstract.
See? I feel good about writing those little sections, but did you really need to read them? Were they simple enough? Were they concrete enough?
You can get better. More concrete. Simpler. Start by practicing these six rules:
#1. Shorter is better.
#2. The rule of threes.
#3. Skip the jargon.
#4. Make it actionable.
#5. Be specific.
#6. Say it back.
I feel like that’s all you need to know.
But, the curse of knowledge kicks in, and I will add one little-known fact: The advertised Gettysburg Address, the one to dedicate the ceremony, was two hours long; over 13,000 words, delivered by U.S. Senator and Secretary of State Edward Everett. Lincoln’s—the one you know about—was two minutes, 272 words.
Action: Cut the fluff: Highlight and delete any words or phrases that don’t add value. If it doesn’t move the message forward, it’s out. You don’t need it.
“Life, Liberty and the _______ _______.”
“Snap, Crackle, and ___.”
“Location, location, ________.”
You can easily complete all of those phrases because they follow the rule of threes. Our brains have limited working memory—we can only handle a small number of items at once. For most people, that small number is three to five. When we group things—chunk them—into threes, this fits nicely with our natural limit.
Action: Group information into chunks of three: Next time you present, organize your message into three main sections or steps. It’s easier for your audience to remember.
As you build experience and expertise, you will naturally assimilate terms of art, jargon, and acronyms. That’s normal. For some, it’s WNL (Within Normal Limits). The problem is the jargon becomes pervasive; part of the noise; communication becomes inaccessible and confusing.
Consciously unpack acronyms. Devise a hit list of words that you don’t use. No one needs a new paradigm. Develop a habit of swapping in simpler words for longer ones: use instead of utilize, improve instead of leverage, and teamwork instead of synergy.
Action: Swap a complex word for a simple one: Find one piece of jargon in your message and replace it with a simple word that anyone can understand.
Business is about doing stuff. Yet too many messages don’t have a clear ask. They don’t drive action.
If you have followed the first three rules, you have three jargon-free, clear points you want to make, that can fit on one half of one sheet of paper. Now look at your draft communication.
Is there a clear verb that indicates action? Are you asking to “build,” “increase,” or “deliver?” Signal to your audience exactly what you want them to do.
Is the outcome clear? In other words, describe the result you expect.
Is there a deadline or a sense of urgency? Timeboxing works. Give people a sense of how long they have to fulfill the action. This drives follow-through.
For example, you might have an overarching goal to “foster innovation.” You can make that actionable by asking to “test one new idea in market every month.”
Action: State the desired outcome: Clearly describe the end result you’re looking for so there’s no ambiguity about what success looks like.
This is about being concrete, not abstract.
Concrete language is more emotional, more engaging, more effective. It creates a vivid mental snapshot which enhances understanding and drives action. Yet we tend to use broad statements because they provide more flexibility. We talk about vision and values, the what and the why, rather than the specifics of the how and the when.
You can see what the Broad/ Abstract goals lack: specificity. More, the Simple/ Concrete examples are easier to act on. They specify the “how” over the “what.” They provide tangible steps to make the abstract goals approachable. The concrete statements often tap into more personal or emotional motivations. They are less clinical, they tell a story, and often have a clear specific measure built-in.
Action: Turn vague goals into concrete steps: Replace “provide better support” with “answer all customer calls within 5 minutes.”
Stickiness. That’s what you’re looking for. Better that your communication rents space in people’s heads than fills space on their hard drive.
The acid test of anything you’ve written, any goal you set, any communication you send is this: can people say it back? If they can repeat it, it’s tacky, if not sticky. It’s something they understood. They engaged. They remembered.
Action: Ask someone to repeat your main point: After sharing a message, ask a colleague to summarize it back to you. If they can’t, simplify and try again.
Try it for yourself. You’ve just read this. What can you say back?