Simplicity Archive - This Moment Counts

Should you explain it simpler?

At some point in your career, you sat in a room where someone was presenting something important. A strategy. A proposal. A decision that was going to affect your work. You understood exactly what they were saying. Every word was clear.

And you wholeheartedly disagreed.

You didn’t say anything because something about the room, the dynamic, the stakes, the relationship, made disagreeing openly feel not worth the hassle. Instead you asked a question that wasn’t really a question and simply ignored what was asked of you.

You were right, by the way. The thing you didn’t say turned out to be true.

What I want to suggest is that right now, somewhere, you are the person at the front of the room. And the people sitting where you once sat are doing exactly what you did.

Back then, the leader concluded: “They didn’t get it. I have to explain it simpler.”

I hope you don’t.

When they say “they didn’t get it,” some leaders mean it in a rather arrogant way: something must have gone wrong in the transmission. The message was right, but somewhere between your mouth and their mind, it got garbled. So they fix the transmission. They simplify. They make sure the transmission is as easy to process for their audience as possible. So that they finally get it.

But what if the transmission was fine?

People didn’t misunderstand. They disagreed. And because disagreement is uncomfortable to say out loud, they didn’t.

Now, here’s the problem:

Simplifying a message that someone disagrees with doesn’t persuade them. It slightly insults them.

Think about what simplification signals to the person on the receiving end. It says: the reason you’re not on board is that you haven’t fully understood. Which means: if you did understand, you’d agree with me.

But that’s nothing short of an accusation of intellectual failure aimed at someone who may have followed your argument perfectly well and simply found it unconvincing.

The better question in that moment is “what would have to be true for this to make sense to them?”

It’s a harder question because it requires you to take their position seriously as a position, not as a comprehension problem. It means asking what they believe, what they see (that you don’t), what they’re responsible for … all of which can make your message land very differently for them than it does for you.

Sometimes you’ll find they’re really missing a piece of context that genuinely does need explaining. But more often you’ll find a real tension: between their priorities and yours, between the short term and the long, between what the data says and what their experience tells them.

That tension isn’t resolved with simpler words – or higher energy for that matter.

And that’s bad news for an entire industry of communication advice built around persuasion. It wants you to think that the gap between you and your audience is a performance gap, and that closing it is a matter of technique. This assumption is so dominant it feels like common sense.

It’s also exactly why teams are frustrated with “high energy” leaders and audiences are frustrated with “inspiring” speeches.

Audiences don’t want you to say simpler things. They want you to say things that make sense and feel right for them. They don’t want you to persuade harder, they want you to resonate stronger.

Sometimes that means finding simpler words. It always means saying things that start from what matters to them, not what makes sense to you.

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

How to get to the point

If you could say exactly what you mean without worrying whether it sounds clever or impressive, what would you say?

If you could let go of the judgment of others and tell the story the way you actually feel it, what would you say?

If you could skip the selling and simply get to the point, what would you say?

Why don’t you?

Sometimes we just overthink it.

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

“I need to sound professional.”

That might be the single most expensive sentence in business.

It‘s the reason strategies die in inboxes. It’s the reason teams nod in meetings and do nothing afterward. It’s the reason smart leaders sound like interchangeable corporate bots.

Because “sounding professional” usually means:
→ Adding syllables where none are needed.
→ Using “utilize” instead of “use.”
→ Talking about “synergies” instead of “working together.”
→ Hiding the actual instruction behind a wall of context.

We do this because we are afraid.
We are afraid that if we speak plainly, we won’t look smart enough.
We are afraid that if we say “Stop doing X,” we sound too blunt.
So we say, “We need to re-evaluate our prioritization frameworks regarding X.”

And then we wonder why X is still happening on Tuesday.

There is nothing professional about being misunderstood.

There is no badge of honor for complexity.
There is no ROI on confusion.

Real professionalism is the courage to be plain and simple.
To say exactly what you mean, even if it feels “too easy.”
To strip away the armor of jargon and just speak.

Stop trying to sound like a professional.
Start sounding like a human who wants to get things done.

(And watch how much faster they actually get done.)

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

“My topic is extremely nuanced. I can’t simplify it.”

I’ve lost count of how often I’ve heard this. The fear is always a variation of: “If I leave something out, they will make a mistake.”

But the reality is: If you leave everything in, you are paralyzing them.

Yesterday, I wrote about why “Empowerment” often fails: It usually turns into a game of “Guess what I’m thinking.”

When you refuse to simplify, you are doing the exact same thing, just from the opposite end: information overwhelm. Dumping a raw database of facts on your team is like saying, “Here is the complete map of the world. You figure out the path.”

Your team doesn’t need your raw data.
They have data. Plenty.
They need your judgment.

Judgment is the ability to look at 100 nuances and say, “These 97 are true, but irrelevant right now. These 3 are the ones that decide the game.”

Simplification is the courage to share those 3 and put the other 97 in the appendix.

Equipped with these 3, your team can move, ideally making interesting mistakes along the way.

But every time you add a “however…” you dilute the “let’s go.” Every time you add a “just to be safe…” you make them hesitate to make a step.

In other words, lighting the path is not about hiding the 97. It’s about adjusting the spotlight so your team can focus on the 3 and move.

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

Everyone looks lost. Now what?

A founder talks about an idea in great detail. Everyone looks lost.

After a bit of back and forth, they grab a pen and draw three boxes and a few arrows on a whiteboard.

Here is the customer.
Here is what they struggle with.
Here is what we change for them.

It’s very simple.
Some details are missing.

But now that it’s clearly visible in the simplest form, the team is intrigued by the change.

Questions start to flow.

Which assumption falls apart when the customer is in a hurry
Which part requires knowledge they will not have
What if this solved a second problem without extra effort
Can we add a playful twist that makes this delightful
Where would their current habits fight this

The sketch does not answer any of those questions.

It creates them.

Before, detail created complexity and complexity created confusion. The simple drawing made it make sense and now the complex work feels worth doing.

That’s what almost everyone gets wrong about simplicity. It’s not the enemy of complexity. It’s the entrance.

And it’s why PATH starts with P, plain and simple. If you can say, in plain and simple words, where you’re headed, your team will be smart enough to figure out a path that gets you there.

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

Nothing else is needed

I was going to write a long post about clarity today.
But then I cut it.

And I cut it again.

And again.

Until only this was left:
Clarity is what remains when nothing else is needed.

Keep lighting the path,
Michael

Do your words need more bang?

If you feel your words need more bang, the words are almost certainly not your problem.

It’s much more likely that you yourself don’t trust the idea yet.

Because if you would, you wouldn’t need to push so hard.

You’d just say what needs to be said.
Plain and simple.

But when you’re unsure, that doesn’t work.
The simple words feel a little awkward and sound slightly off.

So you add more words. Fancier words. And invest more energy.
Not to improve the idea, but to fix how it sounds.

And that’s a trap. You think you need fancier words.
But fancy words won’t fix an unfinished idea.

The path to a better idea runs straight through the search for plain and simple words.

If it doesn’t feel right saying it simply, it’s a clear signal that there’s work to do on the thinking behind them.

Sure, the simple words maybe aren’t themselves the fix.
But they’ll certainly show you where to look.

Keep lighting the path!

Superior words

I’m not impressed when someone dresses up simple ideas in complex words.

I’m impressed when they find simple words and dare to use them.

To me, simple words are much like an open door.
They invite people in.

While complex words often do the opposite.
They keep most people out.

What do you think? Is there a time when complex words are actually necessary? Where simple words simply won’t do the job?

Keep lighting the path!

Why I write daily

Any medium has their merits.

For example, conversations happen in the moment and you can instantly react to the situation. Or videos capture your whole expression, not just the words.

But if you care for precision, saying exactly what you mean, then the written word is hard to beat.

Finding precise words.
Getting the nuances right.
Giving them rhythm.

Writing lets me do that.

I’ll often start with something I’ve said.
In a conversation. On a podcast. Or even just in my mind.

These are all situations where I “simply said it” (like with this post which originated from my podcast conversation with Eric Dillman).

But later, when I write it down, I can refine it.
And craft it into exactly what I want it to be.
Something sharper, clearer, and (hopefully) better.

In that sense, writing – for me – is as much a thinking tool as it is a means for communication.

How about you?
Do you write regularly?
What purpose does it serve for you?

Keep lighting the path!

A quick reminder

Saying it simply starts with simply saying it.

Once you’ve said it, you can always refine and make it simpler.

Posts in Tag: Simplicity