UpTrajectory Review
Bernard Coleman's Inc. piece argues that clear communication is not simplification for the sake of a less informed audience; it is intentional design for how people actually process information. He pushes back on the fear that plain language means diluting expertise, framing clarity instead as respect for the reader's limited attention and cognitive load. For small-business owners who write their own marketing copy, investor pitches, customer emails, and team instructions, this distinction matters. You are not lowering your standards when you strip jargon from a proposal or rewrite a product description so a first-time buyer understands it. You are removing friction between your message and the person who needs to act on it.
Most owners learn this lesson the expensive way. A confusing onboarding email generates support tickets. A dense contract slows a deal. A job posting packed with corporate buzzwords attracts the wrong candidates. Coleman's core point lands here: people do not absorb information the way experts wish they did. They skim, they infer, they disengage when a sentence makes them work too hard. If your message depends on the reader re-reading it twice, you have already lost most of your audience. Clarity is not a style preference. It is a conversion tool, a retention tool, and a hiring tool.
What feels fresh in Coleman's framing is the word design. Communication is often treated as a talent you either have or lack, but he treats it as a craft with deliberate choices: sentence length, structure, sequencing, and the discipline to cut what does not serve the reader. We agree with that framing and would push it further. The best operators treat every customer-facing message as a product. They test it, refine it, and watch where people drop off. A/B testing a subject line or rewriting a pricing page is not marketing vanity; it is quality control on the words that drive revenue.
The second-order effect cuts in two directions. Teams that adopt plain language often discover their own strategy was fuzzier than they realized. Forcing a simple explanation exposes gaps in logic that jargon had hidden. On the other hand, oversimplification carries real risk. A founder who trims too aggressively can strip out nuance that matters, especially in legal, financial, or technical contexts. The skill is not saying less; it is choosing what to say and in what order. That is harder than it sounds, and it separates operators who communicate from those who merely transmit.
Watch how this plays out in your own business this week. Pick one message you send regularly, a welcome email, a quote template, a team update, and rewrite it so a smart twelve-year-old could follow it. Then measure what changes: reply rates, sign-offs, fewer clarifying questions. If nothing moves, the problem may be the offer itself, not the wording. That is a useful finding too. Clarity does not just improve communication. It reveals whether you actually know what you are trying to say.
Takeaway: Rewrite one core business message this week so a smart twelve-year-old could follow it, then measure whether replies, sign-offs, or questions improve.
Excerpt from the original — Inc. Magazine
It isn’t about dumbing it down. It’s about designing for how people actually absorb information