Getting Over the Obsession with Word Repetition

I usually blog about bigger-picture communications strategy issues, but my alter ego the Grammar Queen has been fighting to get out over the weird obsession with word repetition.

We hear from clients all the time, when reviewing all kinds of writing—articles, marketing copy, taglines—”But isn’t it bad to repeat a word?” Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s good. And sometimes it just doesn’t matter.

I suspect that confusion on this points stems from a misunderstanding about why word repetition is sometimes bad. It’s not necessarily that repeated words make for monotonous writing (though they certainly can); it’s that repeated words often signal hazy ideas. Here’s a a simple example: The sentence, “We had a great meal at this great restaurant in a great neighborhood,” is obviously lame. Many people would think the way to fix it is to find synonyms for great. But is “We had a great meal at this excellent restaurant in a fabulous neighborhood” really any better? (Hint: no.) That’s because word repetition here is only a symptom of the real problem. “We had a great meal at this new restaurant in my favorite neighborhood” is a better expression of the thought because the new adjectives are not synonyms—they’re more precise information.

If you read something that repeats words and seems bland and uninformative, it’s usually not because the writer failed to use a thesaurus; more likely they failed to think through what they wanted to say and communicate that precisely.

When is word repetition good? When you want to convey the same information about different things: “Great for kids. Great for parents.” When you want to emphasize a subject: “It was the most fabulous shoe I’d ever seen. It was the shoe of my dreams.” (Substituting footwear for the second shoe would only drain the ardor.) Or when you want to create a transition: “The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain. That plain is where two-thirds of Spain’s … .”  (Substituting flatland for plain would not aid comprehension.)

As the Grammar Queen has frequently observed, the first prerequisite of good writing is good thinking.

Lack of Clarity Can Mean Lack of Credibility

We love engineers. We work with a lot of them, and appreciate their analytical minds and openness to well-supported suggestions. But engineers should not be writing marketing copy. Alas, in the world of clean tech (and sometimes other sustainability sectors) it seems they often do.

The result for most readers is a lack of clarity. Symptoms of engineer-driven copy include an overabundance of technical detail up front, inadequate explanations of complex technology and processes, and a failure to show benefits and results. This that can translate to a lack of credibility with the target market in number of ways:

  • When you hit people with technical details right off the bat, many will give up trying to understand and go away.
  • If you can’t explain what you do clearly and concisely, it may send the message that you aren’t quite up to the task of execution.
  • If you don’t show people how they will benefit and what results they’ll see, you give them no reason to engage you.
  • Lack of clarity is increasingly associated with greenwashing (see an earlier post on this).

Communications that are clear and credible explain the  solution and technology as simply as possible, keeping audience needs in mind; provide technical details and specifications separately from core messages whenever possible; and keep benefits and results front and center.

Bad Language: Why ‘Consumer’ Should Get the Boot

I like to work myself into a good froth before posting one of an occasional series of rants on words and phrases that make me want to spit nails. And I’m finally there on consumer, used to identify a person or people (as opposed to business jargon for a market sector).

In fact, I’ve stewed over this one so long others have beat me to it (see Joseph Romm in Grist). But consumer deserves a pile-on. As in, “Consumers value convenience above all else.”

Well yes, consumers would. But would citizens? Parents? Community members? Patriots? Environmentalists/sports fans/gardeners/name your identity here? The use of the word “consumers” to identify people at all times in all contexts encourages us to think of ourselves—and each other—as nothing more than engines of consumption. It frames our view on problems and solutions in a way that narrows the perspective to purely personal concerns (often amounting to unexamined habits) and positions us as passive recipients of whatever’s out there—we can accept or reject, but not direct.

A sentence like “Consumers care more about perceived effectiveness and than about exposing their household to hazardous chemicals” will be accepted as a truism. Yeah, consumers are like that. Would the sentence “Parents care more about perceived effectiveness and than about exposing their household to hazardous chemicals” seem quite as commonsensical? I’m going to say no.

I’m also going to take a vow: I will never again use the word consumer to refer to a person or people. (I admit it, I’ve done it.) And at the risk of sounding preachy, I think everyone who writes or talks about sustainability issues should do the same. The words we use to describe things affect how we see them. And even when we’re shopping—perhaps especially when we’re shopping—we need to stop seeing ourselves as simply creatures who buy things.

Don’t Tempt Me

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it … I can resist everything but temptation.” —Oscar Wilde

It’s tempting to cram everything that can be said about your product, program, or service into every communication about it. That way, you can satisfy all the internal agendas and answer any question that might occur to anyone.

But yielding to temptation ultimately didn’t work out well for Oscar Wilde, and it probably won’t for you either. Asking your audience to wade through a river of detail to find the bit they want (not to mention the bit you want them to get) is making them work, and people generally expect to get paid for that.

Make it easy for people to understand what you’re offering and how it will benefit them: address them directly and clearly, and don’t let extraneous bits obscure your message. That means resisting the engineer or other detail-obsessed insider who insists that everything is important, and leaders who can’t see that, frankly, your target audience doesn’t give a damn about their hobbyhorses.

It doesn’t mean paring your pitch down to lofty generalities (a sure way to raise greenwashing suspicions). The trick is to isolate essential and powerful details and let them shine. How do you do that? Find out what your target audience cares about and speak directly to that, with verifiable claims. Anything more will tempt them to tune out.

Trying to Connect? Be Human

Using a human voice (rather than an institutional one) is among the surest ways to stand out from the crowd, deliver a fresh-sounding message, and enhance your credibility. And that voice—personable, direct, empathetic—comes naturally to most of us; it’s the way we converse. So why don’t more organizations use it?

Robospeak Rules
For many organizations, the chief impediment to using a human voice is that they’re trying not to, for one or more of these reasons:

They believe that complex prose laden with buzzwords makes them sound credible. But that’s rarely the case, and it’s never true when communicating with nonexperts, who simply won’t understand the point of the communication.

They think using the same marketingspeak everyone else is using makes them sound cutting edge. But it really makes them sound like the same old, same old.

They worry that if they veer from the generic voice of their field, someone will find something objectionable in it. That’s probably true, but savvy organizations don’t market to everyone, and if a human voice is properly targeted, the humans meant to hear it will respond.

They fear that if they make direct statements, they’ll be held responsible. This is a sign that the organization can’t deliver on its marketing promises. When a direct statement makes them feel uncomfortable, organizations that care about credibility ratchet back the claim; they don’t rewrite for plausible deniability.

Finding a Human Voice
Communications that sound like a human wrote them tend to have one or more of these characteristics:

They are written by a human, as opposed to a committee of humans. Writing by committee is almost always lifeless. The more people you allow to change copy based on how they would write it, the more bland (or muddled) it becomes.

They are written for specific humans: A human voice is person to person, not person to general category. Show your audience that you know them—speak to their concerns and interests. And don’t be afraid to use you.

Humor: This is a challenge to do well, but if you have—or can hire—a writer who is genuinely witty, people will love you for it. See Daily Grist (www.grist.org) for a great example of serious issues treated with a sense of humor.

Everyday language: You don’t have to limit yourself to a Dick-and-Jane vocabulary, but pasting chunks of technical documents or reports into external communications is no way to engage outsiders. Again, think of your audience—if you were actually talking to someone in your target audience, how would you express the concept?

Keep these characteristics in mind when you plan and review content for your Web site or other communications, and you’ll be on your way to connecting with your target audience. First published in the January 2008 Words That Work.