Infernal Comms: the Write the Talk blog

A business lesson from modern classical music

At the weekend Alex Ross penned an article asking why most modern classical music is disliked. There's a lesson for business in this debate.

Ross points out that film, art, theatre, pop and writing all have their lauded avant garde exponents and yet the mainstream resistance to their equivalents in music remains. There's a problem here though. If the modern novel was based on Joyce's Finnegan's Wake, not many people would be reading new fiction. It's not that music audiences are clinging to the past, it's that many modern composers can't resonate with a broader audience.

Blaming that audience is missing the point.

There is snobbery in this, as there is in almost all art. Everyone's fighting for the cultural high ground, and sophistication can be attractive in that lofty, rarified environment. But sophistication for its own sake is a minority sport. It's really important for prompting change and new thinking but the skill, the art if you like, is in the combination with the familiar to make something exciting. Make the leap to something new too great and people won't bother. Most of us have more pressing things to deal with.

Modern art, punk, and the most successful strands of modern theatre and film certainly broke with tradition, but they did it in a way that made the form more accessible. The most common criticism of recent art and the initial punk explosion was that anyone could do that. And? Change needs participation, not just ideas.

It seems to me that modern classical music has become a battle between two schools: broadly, music needs tunes vs tunes are yesterday's music. Setting up conflict is not a recipe for success: it encourages entrenched views, the taking of sides. Embracing what's gone before and finding common ground for the future is the way to get people involved.

Culture change in business is very much the same. Making an enemy of the past and those who identify with it is problematic. Creating something new that is still recognisable to everyone is where the future lies. Surprise people, yes, but don't maroon them.

So, new ideas must be encouraged, and groundbreaking creativity shows us what is possible. But without followers, leadership is a lonely and rather redundant activity. And only a poor leader would point the finger of blame at the crowds left behind.

It's restructure time, but no cuts

I admit this isn't the most regularly updated blog. Other projects take priority, I get a life, I even fall out of love with the idea of blogging.

But I keep coming back to it. Why? Because I really believe in this fight we're waging, the fight against consultancy-speak, banality, and the impersonal. So it's time for another push, and this time perhaps a bit more structure.

I've been doing some training recently, and I'm going to share some of that with you. It's about being persuasive and making the impact you want to have on your readers. So over the next few weeks there'll be a series of posts that will add up to a guide for any writing that you do. It'll be great to hear what you think.

If there's anything else you want to hear about, leave a comment and I'll see what I can do. As we're being told so often at the moment, we're all in this together. And I'm going to do my bit.

When we is for weasels: a Raoul Moat story

There are times when either your message or your audience's state of mind is not what you would want it to be. Perhaps you're announcing job cuts or apologising for a mistake. In an extreme case you might be attempting to build a dialogue with someone who has threatened to kill your employees, as Detective Chief Superintendent Neil Adamson had to do in the recent case of alleged murderer Raoul Moat.

DCS Adamson made a personal appeal to Moat towards the end of the manhunt, and he did that with repeated use of the word "I": "I can assure you," he said. "I'd like you to know ...".

When you want people to listen to you and believe what you are saying, there is no place for the weasel "we". 

Taking personal responsibility for what you are saying and doing helps your audience pay attention to you and your message. They may not like it, but they're listening.

Using a phrase like "we've done what we can to minimise the impact on staff" only sends a signal that you are diffusing responsibility for what's happening so that no-one gets the blame.

Use the mighty "I" and you will at least be seen as a leader. It's not easy, but then it's not meant to be.

Redundancy does more than "affect staff"

I read earlier today about the sudden redundancies that have been announced at Budelpack COSi, a company based in Maesteg, Wales. The administrators (Grant Thornton) are in, and the job losses appear to be unavoidable. It's tough for these people, and there were tears.

Here's what the Grant Thornton rep said:

"We are working closely with workers' representatives and a number of public agencies to ensure that everything is done to support the affected staff at this difficult time."

It's a great example of how dumb-speak has taken over from human communication. It has the unmistakeable dull clank of the committee-scripted announcement. I have a particular problem with "affected staff"; it's the way you would refer to people who have been mildly inconvenienced by a change in the car parking arrangements.

When talking about redundancies, let's not try and mask the unpleasantness of what's being talked about by using neutered language. Rather than "affected staff", I'd like to hear about "the men and women who have lost their jobs today": it's truthful, strong, and more respectful.