A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

I remember playing softball when I was 13 years old in the PS 100 schoolyard across the street from the James Monroe Housing Project in the Bronx. My team was up by one run in the bottom of the ninth inning facing an opponent with runners in scoring position and two outs. We needed only one out to win. I was playing second base hoping a line drive would come my way to make the final out and go home victorious. In fact, the batter hit the ball well over my head directly to the right fielder, our team's weakest defensive player. What would have been a routine catch for all the other players on the field went past the right fielder. Our team lost on a walkoff error. Eight of us were good ball players and one was not. So we lost. That moment might have been the time I learned the meaning of "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link."

The truth of that expression has emerged time and again throughout my life. The time one fearsome bully in my high school English class threw a rock at the teacher's back, causing us all an afternoon of detention because no one dared snitch on him. Or when I could not suspend my disbelief while watching a staged play because only one actor from an otherwise outstanding cast of eight was hamming it up, ruining the whole theatrical experience. Or the one customer service agent from an employee workforce of ten thousand who acted rudely, spurring me to never again buy from her company. Or the forced lyrics of a song for the sake of rhyming without regard to the verse's underlying meaning, transforming the song from ethereal poetry to mere doggerel. Or the lone wolf bad cop trampling on a citizen's civil rights, reflecting poorly on his entire precinct. These weak links fail to do the right thing. Whether willfully or thoughtlessly, they mess things up for the rest of us. And we must share some responsibility for that.

But some links might be the weakest in the chain through no fault of their own. Think of developmentally disabled individuals, paralyzed war veterans, innocent victims of physical attacks suffering permanent physical injuries, all of whom cannot do the tasks of their more physically capable counterparts. Or survivors of terrorist incidents, who suffer permanent trauma. Or hardworking but poorly paid laborers who cannot afford to make their children look as refined as their wealthier classmates. If it is true that the chain is only as strong as its weakest link—and we know it is true—then we are a sorry society if we, the supposed stronger links, do not do our best to care for these souls, and then we ourselves are weak.

Perhaps you have an aging father who cannot function without your help, or a child who needs your protection and guidance, or a mate slowly recovering from invasive surgery, or beloved relatives unable to speak the language of the country in which you and they live. I have met people who detest illegal immigrants, yet they themselves are the offspring of illegal immigrants; people who demand retribution against criminals, but not when that criminal is a family member; people disgusted by the homeless but whose heart goes out to a homeless person who aided their mother when she fainted from heat exhaustion on the street; people who hate those on public assistance but gladly accepted public assistance if some disaster befell them.

I say all of this because our world is in a strange time. Not one political party, but all of us, look the other way when people in government break the very laws they created and are sworn to enforce. We do not seem to mind that those laws apply in the harshest terms toward some of us and do not apply at all to others. We are living in a paradoxical Catch-22 situation, teeming with hypocrisy, contemptuous of morality, scornful of common sense. I am not romanticizing the old days, abundant with  gratuitous military actions, segregated school systems, marginalized women, and institutionalized disabled people. But in those times, advocating for ending the Vietnam War in the face of a million corpses, marching for Black Americans in light of lynchings and coloreds-only water fountains, calling for legislation on behalf of women's rights in view of inequitable treatment, and protesting for individuals with disabilities upon consideration of their second-class status appeared even to the most reticent among us to be responsible exercises of civil duty at best and  definitive proof of civil rights at worst.

What has changed? It is not a question of what our predessors had that we do not. It is the precise opposite. What did they not have that we do? The answer is technology. The pervasiveness of social media makes everyone an author. Anyone can broadcast on their favorite apps what now passes for news, and it's uninformed news fabricated to vent frustration, resentment, anger, and animosity. People  believe those dangerous lies out there because they speak to their basest prejudices and fears. And we're becoming worse for it.

What can we do about this dystopic world where disinformation flows into our minds at perpetual tsunami force? Three practices come to mind. These endeavors take some effort, like exercising, dieting, praying, studying, or childrearing. We can act decisively in our capacities as consumers, communicators, and citizens to recapture our better selves.

As consumers, we can cancel subscriptions to social media that allow stories and commentaries based on unfounded information. It’s easy to decide what information is based on reality. When a Facebook ad laments the passing of your favorite celebrity, simply go to an alternative source like the New York Times or Wikipedia to corroborate it. This does not mean you should trust the New York Times or Wikipedia. Fact-check them too. I have given up entirely trusting any news source. BBC, a news service frequently cited as reliable, recently devoted the entire half hour of one of its broadcasts to the irrelevant Prince Harry’s plea for monarchy support at a time when Ukraine was torn by war, innocents were dying in Gaza, and oligarchs were enriching themselves at the expense of everyone else. I do not support any one source. If you do not want to cancel social media subscriptions, you can at least not spend one second of your scrolling time stopping to view a ludicrous, fictitious story passing as reality. Doing so will make these stories fade away. Ignoring works wonders with amoral technologies concerned only with impressions, likes, and screen time.

As communicators, we have two responsibilities: what we say and what we hear. We can speak the truth. When we hear something we know to be a lie, we should call it out. When we are not sure whether what we are hearing is true, we can simply ask our phone: Did so-and-so die today? Who recognizes the Gulf of America? Has the United States deported its citizens? How many people were killed in Gaza? It’s not hard at all. As listeners, we can avoid sources that commonly lie about or exaggerate facts. Here we should consider not only news outlets and social media but acquaintances too. I am not saying to stop being friends with such people, but to limit conversations with them to matters like “Do you think the Yankees will beat the Dodgers this year? When is trash pickup day? How much do eggs cost in your town?” Small talk has its place. At least we won't lose friends over it. 

As citizens, of course we can demand more from our representatives. But that’s just talk. In truth, we must demand more of ourselves. We are part of this problem. It’s not someone else’s fault; it’s ours. Still, we can wonder aloud—to be heard by others, allies and adversaries alike—why the situation is so out of hand. Once our fight for the truth is loud and clear, our representatives will join in that fight for us. Positive change will then be inevitable.

I was uncharacteristically at a rock concert the other night. The music was blasting from the speakers from where I was sitting 40 feet away from the stage. A toddler, perhaps the child of a stagehand or musician, was allowed onstage and directly under the stage for the entire 90-minute show. As I was shaking my head in disbelief, my friend said, “By the time she’s twelve, she’ll be deaf. Who the hell are those girl’s parents?” True. But it takes a proverbial village, baby. If we continue to do nothing when someone flicks a lit cigarette in a draught-stricken forest, we will burn in it.

"Please call me if you have questions."

Have you ever noticed that some people call you with questions even if you did not close your message with "Please let me know if you have any questions"? And how many thousands of times have you written "Please let me know if you have any questions" without getting questions from your readers? Contrarily, have you observed that sometimes people don't call you with questions when they should, because they clearly don't understand what you told them or mess up on what you have instructed them to do? For all these reasons and a few more, I wonder about the value of that overused closing. 

If you have been in the work world for a while, you know that the daily messages you write could number in the hundreds. We're on autopilot, some of our responses running a single word, like "Done," "OK," "Yes," or "No"; some cutting and pasting previous comments; others embedded in the previous message. We know all the shortcuts. We must, otherwise we would never finish our work. Who has time for anything else? 

I no longer see the point in closing a message with "Please let me know if you have any questions" or its hybrids. I can understand a closing that says, "I look forward to receiving your response" to accentuate the urgency of a message. Or "I will be at meetings all day but at my desk for the rest of the week" to indicate your availability. Or "Since this new procedure will likely require a learning curve, you can click here for the Help Desk" to express support. Or "This proposal will stay in effect for 30 days" to encourage your client to act. Or "If we do not receive a response by Thursday, 12:00 p.m., we will close the case" to cover yourself. Give some thought about the next step for the reader. 

Of course, your reader will contact you with questions, even if you don't tell them to. You might think "Please let me know if you have any questions" is better than nothing. I think not.

Audience Awareness, Part 2: The Dialogue Method

 A way to address your audience's concerns is what I call the dialogue method. Consider yourself in a dialogue with every possible reader. For example, let's say you wanted management to hire an expert organization to provide customer service training to your Call Center staff, and ten executives show up to your pitch in the conference room. Here are some questions they might ask:

Chief Communications Officer (CCO): How do we sell it to the Call Center?

Chief Information Officer (CIO): Is IT affected?

Chief Business Officer (CBO): Will it grow the business?

Chief Talent Officer (CTO): Are we training the right people?

Chief Legal Officer (CLO): Are there any liability issues?

Chief Research Officer (CRO): Where did you get your supporting data?

Chief Operations Officer (COO): What's the plan to keep the business running?

Chief Financial Officer (CFO): Do we have the budget for it?

Chief Security Officer  (CSO): How much security clearance does the trainer need?

Chief Executive Officer (CEO): What's the return on investment?

Of course, any of the officers could ask any of those ten questions, and any of them could ask numerous other questions. Why do the Call Center staff need the training? How pressing is this problem? How long has it been a problem? Is a lack of training the root cause of the problem? Are there alternatives to training? How long will the training take? What makes the suggested training organization so expert? Where will the training take place? How will we measure results? Will staff revert to previous behavior? And many more. 

I like this technique because all of us frequently ask and answer questions, so listing the questions and answering them seems as natural as speech. It's a good way to jumpstart the writing process.

 

Audience Awareness, Part 1: What is it?

Our writing is purposeful when we understand what we want our readers to know or do. But purposefulness is just half the story. If you were an IT analyst, would you tell your president how to complete an online procedure the same way you tell a fellow subject-matter expert? If you were a salesperson, would you describe the product or service you are selling to your customer the same way you would to your production supervisor? If you were a project manager, would you explain the contractual process to your concrete contractor the same way you would to your in-house inspector?  Of course, the answer in all three cases is no. Accepting this reality is the first step to becoming aware of your audience's concerns, knowledge, and needs.

Now here comes the hard part. What are their concerns? Is it only price. I doubt it. What do your readers know? Are they at a beginner level? Probably not. What do they need? Chances are, those needs are not exactly what our needs are. For these reasons and others, we should perform an audience analysis before spinning our wheels by flying through a pointless draft with several logical or contextual holes in it.

I often hear, "What if I don't know the full range of readers? I'm writing a report for my manager, but I'm not sure if the executive staff, legal department, or regulatory agencies might read it." Then assume the executives, lawyers, and regulators will read the report, and write it to your least informed reader. 

Still, I admit, that answer is easier said than done. This is why I use a self-made Audience Analysis Worksheet for complex documents that go to readers at multiple levels of an organization and even outside the organization. For instance, a worksheet for a project status report might look like this:

1. Who will read this report? List your readers' names and titles.
2. What is their relationship to your report? Some readers may need just to be in the loop for informational purposes, others may read the report to update their team, which may be tangentially engaged in the project; others may need to troubleshoot the issues you are reporting.
3. Who are the stakeholders? Who else might read the report only when a success or hurdle you mention affects their vital interests? 
4. What questions would they have? Consider questions like, Why are we engaged in this project? What phase of the project are you up to? What problems have you encountered? What caused the problems? How long have they been problems? How did you discover the problems? How did you attempt to resolve the problems? How did you determine the approach to solving the problems? How many staff hours were involved? What crafts or disciplines were involved? How successful were you at addressing the problems? What is the status of the problems now? What have you done to ensure the problems do not recur? What is your mitigation plan? What is your work plan for the next phase? What human, fiscal, equipment, and real property resources will you need? When do you plan to complete the next phase? When will you release the next status report or completion report? If you think these are heaps of questions to answer, I can think of many, many more. If you think I've missed some, list them in your own audience analysis.
5. Do any of my readers need to do anything? If yes, should I write to those individuals separately in addition to supplying them with this report? 

The challenge as a business or technical writer is to reckon with the fact that each message may require different readers, therefore, to answer different questions. Sometimes, we discover new questions as we draft our message, but there's nothing as intimidating to writers as a blank screen when their mind is all over the place. That's why reflecting on your audience will at the least turn that blank screen into ideas we're likely to include in our message.

"I hope this message finds you well."

"I hope this email finds you well ... I hope you are doing fine ... I hope you are having a good day ... I hope you had a good weekend ..."

Ugh! Who are we kidding? We all know how disingenuous those openers come across. Besides, they have nothing to do with the message that follows. I recently received this email starter from a client:

I hope this email finds you well. We are cancelling your class next Thursday due to insufficient space. 

Really? She just ruined my day! 

I admit that I have felt compelled to use that sentence myself when I am working for one of several corporations or government agencies whose leaders have made clear to me their expectation for staff to open written messages that way. But who says a CEO is infallible? Most of us correctly read that sentence as timewasting, thoughtless, insincere, and useless, even incongruous or ridiculous. I usually don't open that way and prefer not to.

I am a big proponent of using courteous language. A tone-sensitive opening of "Good day" or a specific comment connecting you to your reader, such as "Thank you for attending the meeting this morning," would work better. I really do hope my message finds you well, but there are better ways to express that sentiment.

Is the Human Writer Dead?

Technical writers, script writers, and even novelists might seek a new endeavor after reading an article like "AI and the End of the Human Writer" by Samanth Subramanian, which appeared in The New Republic already a year ago (April 22, 2024). The most common questions I get as a corporate writing consultant these days revolve around artificial intelligence. Do you use AI? (Yes.) Can AI help me write better? (Yes.) How accurate is AI? (Very.) How reliable is AI? (Very.) Should I let my school-aged children use AI? (Yes.) Should AI be banned from the classroom? (No.) Will AI replace my job? (Maybe.)

My article, "Using AI to Improve Writing Creativity, Productivity, and Quality" for ACS Chemical Health & Safety, describes many ways that AI can help on-the-job writers. Programs like Google's Bard, Microsoft's Copilot, and OpenAI's ChatGPT can help you plan, draft, rewrite, or translate a document:

•  Planning – Tell AI to "list features to include in a house description," and it will give you more details than you might have thought of under the categories exterior, interior, outdoor space, amenities, accessibility, and location. If this content is not enough, simply ask it, "Anything else?" and it will immediately list finer details, such as alarm system, safety locks, flooring, interior decor, smart home features, high-speed internet, laundry room, basement, attic, and community benefits. Ask it again, "Any other ideas," and it won't give up, providing other information, none of it redundant.  
• Drafting – Give it a list of ideas for, say, a country description, such as the square miles, geography, population, political system, religion, customs, cuisine, and folklore of Malta. In seconds, it will generate a 1,000-word essay including footnotes. If the depth of content in that draft won't do, ask it for an expanded version, and you'll get one, again in seconds.
• Rewriting – Drop in a document riddled with grammatical, diction, spelling, and punctuation miscues with the simple prompt, "Correct this," and AI will render a virtually error-free message. While AI does not yet organize ideas as effectively as it corrects mistakes, it is a reliable editing partner for basic documents.   
• Translating –  AI translating services may not have the high-minded attention to style as have human translators of fine literature, but it does a sufficient job with basic business writing. At the prompt of "Translate this into Spanish" (or many other major languages), your English text will be accessible globally. 

But is the human writer dead? If we are, we remain far from useless in the workplace. We still depend on human interaction to transact deals, investigate incidents, interview job candidates, deliver presentations, supervise staff, operate and repair equipment, and numerous other tasks—all of which require some type of writing, or at least dictation. Besides, as technology evolves, so do we.

On Not Playing It Safe

"I would write, but I can't take rejection."

"I always wanted to write but doubt I have the talent."

"I want to write but don't have the time."

"I don't have a good place to write."

"I would write if it weren't for my job."

"I'll write when I retire."

These are the excuses I have heard for a half century from people who claim aspirations of writing. They should read Nobel Prize laureate William Faulkner's 1956 interview in the Paris Review. Faulkner famously said, "An artist is a creature driven by demons. He don't know why they choose him and he's too busy to wonder why. He is completely amoral in that he will rob, borrow, beg, or steal from anybody and everybody to get the work done." 

As a writer, Faulkner was ruthless, and his prodigious output proves that he did not suffer fools, failures, or frenzies to stop him from writing. Even our ego should be worthless to us once we write:  

Interviewer: Then could the lack of security, happiness, honor, be an important factor in the artist's creativity?

Faulkner: No. They are important only to his peace and contentment, and art has no concern with peace and contentment.

Interviewer: Then what would be the best environment for a writer?

Faulkner: Art is not concerned with environment either; it doesn't care where it is.

Now if those aren't words to frighten away the pretenders, then I don't know what are. For the rest of us still hanging in there, we must remember Faulkner's point. There are no excuses. Just do it. Get to work.