Skip to content

Marketing, Digital Marketing, Website

It's All a Load of BS (And I Don't Mean Balance Sheet)

I used to keep a self-written glossary next to me in Zoom meetings. At the time I worked in finance. Without it, I couldn't make sense of what was being said.

Tineke Madgwick ·

A judge with a clipboard watches a student give a speech on a school stage

I used to keep a self-written glossary next to me in Zoom meetings.

At the time I worked in finance. Without it, I couldn't make sense of what was being said.

“Let’s deep dive the LTM numbers and unpack what’s driving EBITDA, because it’s having a material impact on ROI and CAGR. We can circle back, align next steps and close the loop by end of play.”

Give me a break.

I never told anyone about that glossary. It felt like admitting I didn't belong in the room, which in hindsight is exactly the problem. The acronyms weren't efficiency - they were membership. If you knew them you belonged, and if you didn't, you kept quiet.

Which is the exact opposite of what a meeting is for.

Then I got asked to judge a school speech competition

For the last three years I've been a guest judge at the Whangamatā Area School speech finals. Introduced to the room as the resident “communications expert”, no less. Which is a funny thing to be called when a time you barely understood a single sentence in a meeting is still burned into your subconscious.

They hand you a judging sheet. I've marked it three years running, and this year I actually looked at it properly.

Does the introduction grab the audience's attention? Are key connections made between ideas? Does the conclusion link back to the introduction? Is the message strong and clear?

Every line on that sheet measures the same thing: what is it like to be the person listening?

There is nothing on it about sounding clever. No marks for terminology. No credit for filling the time you were given.

And the note that came up more than any other, from every judge on the panel, was some version of slow down, pause, let us catch up.

A room full of eleven and twelve year olds, being formally marked on whether they left enough silence for the audience to absorb what they’re saying.

What they're actually being taught

Speech writing and delivery sit in the oral language part of the New Zealand English curriculum. This isn't natural talent. These kids are taught structure, delivery, and how to take a position and defend it. Then they stand up in front of their peers, teachers and judging panel and do it. And I have to say, the teaching staff here are doing a great job.

These kids make one argument, in the time allowed, and sit down.

Every speech had a point you could disagree with. There were no "I had some thoughts on" or "I’ve been exploring the role of", but actual positions. Defended with actual specifics.

Meanwhile, in professional life, we abstract everything into customers, stakeholders, alignment and touchpoints.

Why? Because generalisations are safer. Nobody can hold you to one. And let’s not forget those beloved acronyms.

We were taught the same things those kids are being taught. Most of us have just had it trained out of us since.

Why I'm writing this on a business blog

Because it's the honest answer to a question we get asked reasonably often, which is why our website doesn't sound like other agency websites.

We don't hedge on our services page to protect ourselves from being wrong. We won’t pitch to a client as a "leading provider of innovative digital solutions". We say what we do, in words a person would actually use, and then we stop.

Partly that's a decision about how we want to sound. But also because many of us have spent time on calls and in meetings where we can’t follow what’s happening and don’t want to admit to it. We're not interested in doing that to anyone else. If a potential client can't tell what we do from our homepage, that's our failure, not theirs.

It also turns out to be good for business, for reasons I didn't expect when we started. Vague writing doesn't get found, doesn't get remembered and doesn't get recommended. But that's for a different post, and right now I'd rather not pretend that's why I care about it.

The bit I keep thinking about

There's a moment in every one of those speeches where a kid who is clearly nervous decides to slow down anyway. You see them do it. They've been taught that the pause is part of the job, so they take it, even though every instinct is telling them to rush through and get back to their seat.

I've watched senior people fill an entire hour just because the hour was booked.

Those kids are better at this than we are. They just haven't had it trained out of them yet.

If you want someone to write for your customers rather than your industry, get in touch.

Note: Thank you to the team at Whangamatā Area School for letting me be part of this experience. It’s an honour and a privilege.