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.

Do you have time to figure it out?

Most small businesses don’t lose customers to the competition. They lose them to confusion.

Imagine two restaurants side by side.

One has a sign: “Best Wood-Fired Pizza in Town.”

The other has a long description of their process, ingredients, and philosophy.

Most people will walk past the second one, not because it’s worse, but because they don’t have time to figure it out.

It breaks my heart when people give up because they perceive the market as unfair – rewarding the “natural born salesmen” and neglecting better in favor of what’s louder.

I used to believe that, too, before I flipped my career from Mobile Communications to, well, human communication.

We had the same problem in that industry. It wasn’t the best ideas that won. It was the ideas that people understood and embraced.

People just don’t have time to figure out confusing messages.

The truth is that communication isn’t an afterthought to your offer – it is the offer.

The good news is that’s usually way easier to fix than the product.

Keep lighting the path!

More

With every word, it’s clear: they’re playing the game.
The more they say, the more confusion they create.

But they keep piling on more words.

What makes this so frustrating is that it is calculated. “Saying more” is a way of “playing the game”.

It’s meant to overwhelm.
Distract.
Hide the weakness of their argument behind layers of noise.

“Saying more” works because it throws you off balance. You can’t pin down the point because it keeps moving. You can’t counter the argument because you’re buried in words.

But you don’t have to play along. Stop the game and shine a light on the tactic.

Ask one clear question:
“What are you really trying to say?”

It’s a question “more” can’t outrun.

Don’t play along by saying more yourself,
demand less.

The moment you strip it down, the weakness becomes impossible to hide.

Less

Say less. Mean more.

(That’s it for today.)

Captain Obvious

Nothing kills excitement faster than explaining what everyone already knows.

Like the leader who says:
“Let me tell you exactly how to think about this.”
“Here’s why this matters – just so we’re clear.”
“And in case you missed it, let me explain one more time.”

Captain Obvious has entered the stage.

And with him, any chance to inspire, connect, and resonate is gone.

It’s not just that Captain Obvious over-explains.
→ It’s that they kill imagination.

When we explain too much or define everything too literally, we rob our audience of the chance to connect the dots for themselves.

But without that, there’s no ownership.
No emotional connection.
No resonance.

Great leaders don’t just transfer information, they invite their audience into the story and let them discover (at least parts of) the magic for themselves.

Here’s how:

  1. Paint the picture, but don’t explain the canvas
    → Instead of dictating the vision, let them bring it to life.
  2. Spark curiosity, but don’t satisfy it immediately
    → Instead of handing them conclusions, invite them to connect the dots.
  3. Light the path, but trust them to walk it
    → Guide your audience toward the insight, but let them own the moment of discovery.

You don’t need to spell out every detail to make an impact. In fact, the less you explain, the more your audience will imagine.

Your idea will become their idea.
And that’s how resonance begins.

So hang up the cape.
Retire Captain Obvious.
And resonate strongly with your audience.

Spread the Word

Picture of Dr. Michael Gerharz

Dr. Michael Gerharz