Thinkshift recently completed messaging work for several clients, which got me thinking about what good messaging is all about.

Good messaging is credible and exact. It handles the communications task at hand, whether it’s a pithy quote from the CEO in a press release, a boilerplate description of the company, or the brand voice and framework for a report, presentation or website. A messaging document should provide messages that are as close to plug-and-play as possible, with examples for as many contexts as makes sense.

Good messaging gets used. Reporters use it when writing about the company. Partner organizations use it when they describe you on their website. Employees use it, not just in presentations and formal communications, but also on their LinkedIn and Facebook pages and when they talk about their work with friends. For one client, the test came with the release of significant company news requiring media outreach and a new partnership. It was extremely gratifying to see the messaging work take hold and appear in newspaper articles, customer blog posts and on the partner website. Meanwhile, employees used it on their LinkedIn pages and elsewhere.

This doesn’t just happen naturally. We don’t just create messages, toss the client a guide and expect them to get it right away. Introducing the messaging, explaining how to use it and when, showing examples and providing training for written and spoken use are key.

Good messaging is flexible. Messaging should be used consistently, but shouldn’t be rigid. It should grow and change with the organization, and be adaptable to the person using it, the communications vehicle, audience or a other factors.

The key test—and I find this especially satisfying—is whether people genuinely like the messages. They won’t unless the messages are written in natural, ordinary language, so that people are comfortable using them without rewriting. When that happens, employees and others become advocates. They are able to provide the right message and information succinctly.

And that kind of communication brings an organization to life. You can’t do that with jargon, corporatespeak or vague and imprecise phrases.

I wrote in April about what decision science research tells us about how people respond to environmental issues and what that means for communicators. Now the Center for Research on Environmental Decisions (CRED) at Columbia University has released an illustrated guide to the psychology of climate change communication—handily summarized by Grist blogger Jonathan Hiskes here.

Even if you’re not communicating directly or specifically about climate change, take a look. There are nuggets here that can be useful to people trying to influence behavior on a spectrum of environment-related topics—from clean tech companies trying to get staid industries to adopt new technologies to universities trying to boost participation in campus sustainability efforts.

Much of the advice boils down to the fundamental communications truth—it’s not about you; it’s about your audience. Know who they are, speak their language, put problems and solutions in their context, be concrete, don’t exaggerate, and give people easy ways to act. You’ve no doubt heard these rules before (we certainly can’t shut up about them), but this guide gives you the science behind why you ignore them at your peril, and may give you fresh ideas on how to to apply them.

Communicating about sustainability inevitably means communicating about statistics—something I think it’s fair to say we all struggle to do well. How do you make huge numbers, often measuring things that are invisible to us (carbon dioxide emissions, kilowatt hours), meaningful enough to make an impression on people?

Carolyn addressed this earlier this year, providing a neat summary of the use of Fermi problems to tackle the challenge. I’m happy to add another inspiration source, a recent Fast Company column by Made to Stick authors Dan and Chip Heath, “The Gripping Statistic: How to Make Your Data Matter.”

As the Heaths point out, some communicators realize that “big numbers fuzz our brains,” and understand that they need to be translated to something that relates to everyday life. Attempts to solve the problem often don’t pan out, however. One particularly useful (if disgusting) example from the column:

Building intuition about numbers is different from shocking people with numbers. We’ve all heard stats like this one (which is real): 27 billion disposable diapers are used each year in the United States—enough to stretch all the way to the moon and back seven times. What to say about this? For starters, it would be a funny joke to play on the astronauts.

But notice that the astronomical analogy blocks any useful intuition. Would we feel better, for instance, if the diapers only stretched to the moon and back once? That would be just as gross, yet it would mean that six out of every seven families had given up disposables.

The problem here is not just relatability (while we all understand that the moon is far away, most of us haven’t been there) but utility: illustrating the abundance of disposable diapers this way doesn’t give us any insight into how big a problem this is or how we might address it. As the Heaths say, “A good statistic is one that aids a decision or shapes an opinion.”

For  example? There are a couple in the column. If anyone has others, I’d love to hear them.