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The Journey Continues...
After your unfortunate derailment at the Wishful Thinking Waterfall, you skirt the edge of Hubris Hill and spot the summit Above the Fold looming like an impending deadline. You camp at the foot of Molehill Mountain, aiming to reach Above the Fold the next day.
Ogilvy’s Cave
After several hours of climbing the Molehill that is indeed a Mountain, you reach the summit at last. The entrance to Ogilvy’s cave is clearly signposted. You hesitate there, in awed silence that echoes around the mountaintop.
Presently, Wise Sage Ogilvy saunters out, all suit and side parting, smoking a pipe. You hang on his every word.
“You have all the hallmarks of a pretentious ass.”
He issues you with a call-to-action: In order to escape the island (as well as your own abject failings), you must complete a quest.
The Quest: Purification
“Write the way you talk. Naturally. Use short words, short sentences and short paragraphs.”—David Ogilvy
You must enter the infamous Jargon Jungle and retrieve a Kernel of Truth from the deadly Smarketing Squirrel.
Ogilvy hands you his sword, Common Sense Cutlass. “Cut the crap.”
He lends you his horse, Simple Sentence. “Watch out – he sometimes runs on.”
With renewed enthusiasm, you ride for the Jargon Jungle.
The Jargon Jungle
Two days later, you step over the first superfluous vine of Jargon Jungle. The sweaty air is heavy with synergy and expectation. Dismounting Simple Sentence, you raise your cutlass and hack into the dense undergrowth, using the blade like a machete.
Progress is slow. The distant hum of buzzwords becomes a constant drone in your ears. Sweat trickles down your brow. Simple Sentence is stuck in the weeds.
“Excuse me, can I pick your brain for a minute?”
You startle. Where is that voice coming from?
“It’s your line manager, Ignatia Investoparrot BA IP. Can we touch base?” The shrill voice rings out across the thicket.
You look up. In the fork of a tree just above your head sits a dark blue bird with a wide beak and – strangely – pearly teeth.
“Er, touch base? Umm, yes, I suppose so…” you begin.
“Good because I’m conceptualising some new brand values for our verbose and tangential organisation and I wanted to workshop some thought showers in a team meeting before the close of play,” the bird takes a sharp breath and continues, “Do you think we can get our ducks in a row with some out-of-the-box spitballing and synergise our ideas?”
You blink, then wrack your brain for a brand value but all you can think of is what you’re having for tea tonight. Nothing.
Ignatia stares expectantly, with beady little eyes. Simple Sentence chews at the weeds around his legs.
“Um, how about helping strangers?” you offer, hoping the ulterior motive isn’t too obvious.
“Hospitality! Sensational! How can we synthesise this into a vision and mission statement?” The investoparrot cocks its head.
“Um, our vision is a jungle where visitors feel welcome? Our mission is to help lost travellers achieve their goals?”
Ignatia flaps her wings enthusiastically.
“Outstanding! A strategically sound proposition! It is, however, imperative that we conduct a thorough evaluation prior to its implementation.”
You allow yourself a smug smile. Not just a pretty face, after all. “Well, you could test it right now. I’m a lost traveller. Why don’t you give me some advice on how to find the Smarketing Squirrel?”
Simple Sentence huffs sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring. The bird ruffles its feathers and lowers its voice.
“Are you not cognizant that the rodent engaged in auto-cannibalism within its familial unit?”
Suddenly, the jungle feels just a little darker. The canopy above you seems to be closing in, blocking out the daylight. Simple Sentence is fretting and getting more in a tangle than ever. Realisation dawns on you.
“You mean, it ate its own family?”
“Certainly, and it is renowned for implementing equitable treatment protocols for its workforce.”
Simple Sentence falls still.
“Who would work for a manager that eats them?” you whisper.
The bird sighs.
“All stakeholders within this ecosystem are aligned under the strategic vision of the Smarketing Squirrel initiative.”
Your heart beats faster. Above the synergistic hum, you hear a creak, a crack, and a crash. A tree has fallen somewhere deep in the forest.
“Wait. Don’t tell me the squirrel owns the whole jungle?”
Ignatia nods slowly and deliberately, as if imparting a very important message to someone very stupid. “What are the key learnings here?”
“Um… don’t mess with the Smarketing Squirrel?”
The bird spreads its wings as another crash, this time a little closer, sends a cloud of terrified birds fleeing overhead.
“Affirmative, I am now departing. It is time for your annual performance evaluation with management. Ensure optimal preparation for this pivotal meeting.”
It takes off and disappears into the canopy, leaving you and Simple Sentence exchanging alarmed looks.
Crash. Crash. CRASH!
An unearthly wail barrels into your eardrums. The ground shakes. Trees ahead of you sway, part and fall. A huge, dark shape fills your vision.
The Smarketing Squirrel
With a terrible roar, the Smarketing Squirrel bursts into view. You draw the Common Sense Cutlass and try to free Simple Sentence from the weeds, without taking your eyes off the huge squirrel.
It’s as tall as some of the jungle trees. It’s as fluffy and adorable as a giant squirrel ever was, aside from its bloodshot eyes and gnashing teeth.
The squirrel fixes you with a hungry, appraising stare. A drop of blood drips from its prominent incisors.
“Explain your performance data!” it booms, holding up a bloodstained chart showing an overall downwards trend.
Your heart sinks.
“The data set is too small,” pipes up a thin, reedy voice. You turn in shock to see Simple Sentence gingerly take a step forward out of the weeds. The squirrel turns its ravenous eyes towards the plucky, underprepared horse.
Simple Sentence clears his throat, and continues, “To get statistically significant data, you really need a much larger sample. We would need to spend a lot more time in the Jargon Jungle before you could accurately assess our performance.”
You and the squirrel are equally stunned by the horse’s simple logic.
Then, a cruel smile spreads across the Smarketing Squirrel’s snout.
“Well,” it breathes, “You’re welcome to stay. After all, we’re all a family here. We’ll call this your probation period. But to prove your loyalty to the company, I’ll need you to sign an NDA. And offer a blood sacrifice.”
Your heart stops. You realise the squirrel is talking to Simple Sentence. Not to you. Your life is in the horse’s hooves.
“Well,” stutters Simple Sentence, “I’ll have to see what my union has to say about that.”
You realise he’s stalling. You need to do something. You cast about but can’t look away from the squirrel’s intimidating jaws.
That’s when you notice something. A bulge in its cheek. Something is lodged in the corner of the squirrel’s mouth. Could it be… the kernel of truth?
“Anyway,” continues Simple Sentence, his voice getting thinner and higher, “Can you explain why the same positions keep being advertised again and again in this organisation?”
The squirrel’s eyes narrow. Simple Sentence gulps.
“Let’s take this offline.”
The conversation’s over. The Smarketing Squirrel opens wide, ready to take a bite out of your new friend.
You launch the Common Sense Cutlass into its mouth, piercing the kernel, toothpick-style.
The squirrel rears back and screams in pain, leaving you swinging from the sword handle.
The kernel drops to the floor, taking you with it.
In a frenzy, the squirrel still flailing in confusion, you peel away the soggy, grey outer leaves of the kernel. Each leaf reveals a new buzzword.
Hyperlocal, KPI, ROI, New Normal…
At last, you see it. The glowing, golden kernel, like a piece of sweetcorn the size of a golf ball.
Gathering the outer leaves into a wad, you hurl them towards the squirrel’s approaching, open jaws.
Unbelievably, you hit your target. The leaves are lodged at the back of the squirrel’s throat.
It doubles over, gagging.
You leap onto Simple Sentence’s back and the two of you gallop away to safety, as the Smarketing Squirrel chokes on its own jargon.
As Simple Sentence weaves his way through the trees with newfound agility, you clutch the kernel of truth in your pocket. What insights does it hold?
Do you need a guide through the Jargon Jungle? Cut the crap today! I have my own Common Sense Cutlass…
Prefer to navigate your own way? Read my guide to stop corporate buzzwords from choking your message.
Cut the Crap Today!
For Copy and Content that Hits Deeper
You bring the jargon; I’ll bring the cutlass.
