Business Writing Language Hall of Shame

Greetings. I’ve been compiling a business writing Language Hall of Shame over the past year or so, and publishing installments in the electronic newsletter that I send out every month from www.davegriffithscommunications.com. Someone asked me to gather them in one place, and here they are (I welcome your comments and additions):

• Past history – I wonder what the legendary iconoclast and journalist H.L. Mencken would have made of anyone using this phrase. My guess is that he’d consign them to what he called “the booboisie,” which needs no explanation. I’m flabbergasted at how often I hear that, along with its twin descent into copycat idiocy, past experience. Here’s the point: Hearing someone say something of such mouth-breathing stupidity – no matter how often – doesn’t make it right.

• I, personally… — Right. Is that to be used when you don’t mean, “I, impersonally…?” Or are you using “personally” as a sort of punctuation/pause, a clearing of the throat before moving on? One advantage of taking a writing class and subjecting yourself to peer review and lessons in self-editing is that learning to be a more efficient, to-the-point communicator transfers easily to speaking. It’s all about discipline and respect for your audience.

• Low-hanging fruit — When this one pops up I’m tempted to make eye contact with someone else in the room and share a knowing grin. But let’s try to be serious. Here’s the day-to-day “business world” interpretation of low-hanging fruit: When faced with a challenge, you do the easy stuff first. So how about instead: “Let’s confront this problem one step at a time…”? I recall attending a planning meeting where “low-hanging fruit” entered the discussion early and was repeated eight times by four or five other adults. Apparently, all it takes is one brief utterance to turn otherwise bright people into language lemmings.

• Defining moment – I take that to mean the one crucial stage or decision that lets us know whether we’re facing success or failure. If so, then by its very definition, the phrase must be used sparingly. Yet it sounds so precise that we overuse it because we feel authoritative and insightful. But how many “defining moments” can there be? Pile up too many of them and they lose their impact while you look shallow and unimaginative.

• Rgds and tks — Whoa, you must be one extremely busy and important executive if you can’t find the time to write out “regards” and “thanks.” And lest I forget that, tks for reminding me of your stature every time you send an email. Maybe, as the poet William Wordsworth said, the child really is “father of the Man,” and we should start aping the shorthand that our brilliant offspring use when they “text” each other.  

• Out of the box – I thought this sucker would be gone by now, consigned to some ash heap like “this particular point in time” subbing for “now,” but I’ve been hearing it far too often lately. If you’re really thinking outside the box, should you be using tired phrases like “outside the box?” And if everyone thinks outside that ubiquitous cardboard container, maybe the “most unique” course for you would be to climb back inside and hunker down in lonely, risk-free splendor.

• Taking it to the next level – Okay, I know this is a sports cliché, and I know we can blame it on a host of ex-jocks in broadcast booths across America. But I’ve been hearing it creep into consultantspeak and what passes for business communications. One thought: In the workplace, writing skills are most effective if they’re precise. So the “next level” doesn’t have to be a glorious ascension, does it? It could be a step downward, couldn’t it?

• Step up to the plate – Sports again. This one’s achieving critical mess (that’s not a typo). And it’s an absurd example of what occurs when copycat, mindless writing masquerades as effective business communication. Do you know what happens to the top 20 or 30 baseball hitters when they “step up to the plate?” Nearly seven times out of ten, they strike out, hit a grounder, a foul pop-up, an infield pop-up, a line drive to an infielder or a fly ball to an outfielder. In other words, they fail.

• Negatively impact – As in “Our failure to fabricate even one paper clip that actually holds two sheets of paper together is negatively impacting our sales performance.” First of all, “impact” became a verb only about 30 years ago, even though the verbs “affect” or “influence” did the job quite nicely.

  But now that it’s here, as I tell my business writing skills students, why compound the damage by adding an awkward adverb (fellow Mainer Stephen King said in his book on writing, “The adverb is not your friend.”)? Why not rely instead on unambiguous, active, space-saving standbys such as “harm” or “hurt?” 

• Core competencies — As in “Our core competencies include a flexible attitude about quality control and a collective tendency to stretch the lunch hour beyond normal parameters because we adhere to the principle of saving personal energy.” Does anyone realize that by using the adjective “core” to define “competencies,” you’re implying that you have other “competencies” that might not be so “core?” And that a careful reader could deduce that those other competencies might actually be subpar, or at least rather pedestrian? Here’s a solution in plain English that makes business communications work: “What we do best is…” or “Our reputation rests on the way we…” or “We are known for…”

  I bring this up because I don’t doubt that your readers are critical thinkers (at least that’s what I tell my business writing seminar students to expect), which means they will view phrases like “core competencies” as lazy, unproductive thinking.

• Skill sets – As in “Our employees can bring the most unique set of skill sets to finding a solution to your problem, which is why we consider ourselves a high-end firm that can justify overcharging you for our services.” First of all, you can’t be “most unique” because “unique” means one of a kind. I used to think that foolishness was restricted to the sports broadcast booth, but now I’m seeing it on websites, which was probably inevitable.

  Anyway, I ask you: What’s wrong with just using “skills?” How can adding “sets” possibly add anything beyond the useless appendage of another four-letter word? If you use “skills sets,” ask yourself: “Why? What have I gained beyond the obvious tendency to imitate others unthinkingly?”

Dave Griffiths, former national security correspondent for Business Week, does freelance writing and freelance editing, as well as media training and instruction in marketing messages, business writing, communications skills, presentation skills and business communication. His website is http://www.davegriffithscommunications.com

Advertisement