Using Simple Words to Make a Big Impact
The strategic utilization of accessible language produces a more profound communicative impact than the deployment of terminology that necessitates greater cognitive effort.
Wait, we can do better than that:
Using simple words and phrases that everybody can understand has a greater impact than using words that some people might struggle with.
Still note quite right...
Simple language is more powerful than complicated words.
There we go.
When I think about simple language, I often cite this quote from David Ogilvy:
I know a lot of architects struggle with the idea of “selling” (that’s a topic for another post), so let’s just focus on the idea of language for now. All Ogilvy is saying is that, in business, we should strive to be understood by our prospective clients.
For some reason a lot of architects struggle with that too.
It's become almost a cliché at this point, but I still see so many architects write in elaborate loops full of jargon that alienates anyone who is not an architect. Maybe you're imitating something from school. Maybe it's what you think clients expect. Maybe you think it shows authority of expertise.
But the surest sign of expertise isn't reciting complex ideas. It's making complex ideas easy to understand.
This is something I worked on a lot when I was writing about architecture & design for publications like Smithsonian, The Guardian, and Wired. These are general interest magazines with diverse audiences. As a design writer, it was my job to make concepts like early modernism, victorian interior design, and the aesthetic theories driving Rem Koolhaas's skyscraper design accessible to the average reader. I did this by using clear language and connecting these ideas to things they understood.
Jargon is an easy target here. But there is a time and a place for "fenestration" instead of "window." Professional language can convey expertise. The problems start when you string too many of these words together. Or use them without context that the reader can understand. Then you move from being perceived as an expert to being perceived as obnoxious.
We're not just talking about short, simple words, though. Simple sentences matter. They give your ideas space to breathe. Paragraphs under 100 words keep readers moving. Simple layouts guide the eye instead of exhausting it. The point is to avoid any clutter that might dull or delay your message.
Overly wrought, complicated language doesn’t make you sound smart. It makes readers work harder than they should. And when people work too hard, they stop reading. Attention is a limited resource. Every extraneous extra clause or complicated word spends a bit of it. Eventually, there's none left for the part where you actually communicate your value.
Simplicity isn’t easy. And it isn't about dumbing down. It’s about building up. Give the reader a foundation of understanding. Link simply ideas to convey more complex ones. Design your text the way you'd design a building — with purpose, hierarchy, and flow.
Above all, simplicity means making hard choices.
When you're writing about your work or your firm, you can’t say everything you want to say. You just can’t. So say what matters to your ideal client. Focus on two or three things that really make a difference in your work. Things that create transformation or change lives. Ideally, these things also the things you're an expert in.
Everything you write is a chance to reify your expertise. Every proposal, case study, web page, social media post—everything— should clearly and simply communicate some aspect of your value — and your values. That language—what you choose to say and how you say it—defines your practice just as much as your portfolio.
But it only works if clients can understand you. If you use the language they use everyday.
