The new professionalism – or how princes disappoint

We all have a communication footprint, whether you make the odd begrudging phone call or you’re an extremely online content ho, like yours truly.

More and more we meet people digitally before we meet them in person.

Heck, when I think about it, I’ve never met the teams from the two businesses who work most with me in person, and yet they spend tens of thousands of dollars with me each year.

And then when you do meet folks IRL, that can set up another disconnect. I can’t count the number of times I’ve met people in person, and they’re eloquent, witty, all the good gear … then they start emailing me, and it all goes to shit. Their written communications will be terse, charmless, and do a disservice to the real human behind the screen.

How you communicate sets the vibe for how people relate to you

More than that, it paints a picture of who you are. But sometimes we don’t consider what picture we’re painting with our words, or the vibe we’re creating with our tone.

Now partly this is down to gaps in our social system. Schools teach us to write. Universities teach us to reason. But who teaches us to charm?

Poor communication is also a legacy of old school professionalism.

So today I want to talk about why better communication requires you to kick outdated ‘professional’ values to the kerb.

We’ll look at:

  1. Making your emails, texts, and DMs lift the spirit.

  2. Making professional comms moreish.

  3. Sharing content that creates connection.

But first let’s look at how we got to where we’re at.

How old school professionalism holds you back

Professionalism is adhering to a set of standards, code of conduct, or collection of qualities that characterise accepted practice in a particular activity. Stole that definition from a bunch of UK universities … so it must be true.

I’m not hating on all aspects of professionalism.

  • Being exceptional at your profession.

  • Delivering what you promise.

  • Respecting other people’s time.

These are all fine things.

What does grind my gears is adhering to outdated modes of behaviour.

Let’s look at a few all too familiar examples.

---

With old school professionalism you keep your personal life separate from work. You’re expected to leave personal difficulties and the emotions associated with them at the office door.

VS.

New professionalism which accepts that’s an unrealistic and unhealthy expectation, making it safe for people to bring their whole self to work, and providing support in tough times.

---

Old school professionalism loves corporate dress codes, dressing for success, and gendered uniforms.  

VS.

New professionalism encourages you to dress in a way that makes you feel great about yourself, whether that’s for comfort, creativity, or self-expression.

---

Old school professional comms use stilted phrases, jargon, and formal words like utilise and assist instead of use and help.

VS

Human communications use every day plain language, humour and storytelling to communicate information.

---

Old school professionalism is risk averse, and adopts constricting social media guidelines that make staff afraid to post on channels like LinkedIn in case they get it wrong.

VS

New professionalism offers empowering social media training and coaching to encourage the smart people in your team to share content that builds their personal brand.

I could go on. But you get the picture.

The key thing to understand is corporates thrive despite old school professionalism, not because of it. Behind the scenes their people are working their arses off, doing their best to create strong bonds and infuse a bland corporate brand with humanity.

All people do business with people. Corporate formality merely puts a barrier in place that slows personal relationship building down.

What if people looked forward to your emails?

So, we know what we don’t want anymore. But what do good communications look like? Communications that build connection and rapport with the person reading it.

Now I’m just about to sound like your great Aunt Mildred (who BTW was an utter bad ass). A lot of good communication comes down to manners. And manners appear to be anachronistic these days, which is a shame because they’re the lubricant that greases the wheels of social interaction.

Put simply, manners make people feel good about engaging with you. But manners are also in your own best interest, because if people feel good about interacting with you, they’re more likely to do what you want them to. Manners are manipulation mit charm.

And the good news is that when it comes to emails and DMs, it’s not that hard to infuse them with a bit of character and charm, and it won’t take you any longer than writing a crap email.

Four key rules for emails and DMs.

1.       Start by wishing your correspondent well in a way that feels like you.

You can be casual and conversational.

Hey Bob, hope your Monday is sensational.

You can be  whimsical.

Dear Bob, I hope your week is treating you real nice.

You can be anarchic.

Bob how the devil are you? Hope your Monday is kicking arse and taking names.

You can be uplifting.

Bob you exceptional human, I hope your weekend was every bit as excellent as you deserve.

Be real to your personality and keep it uplifting. Aspire to be a bolt of sunshine in the grey drabness of your correspondents’ inboxes.

2.       Cut to the chase and keep your email concise.

We’re all time poor so it’s good manners to make all communications quick and easy to read.

  • Keep your sentences and paragraphs short.

  • Use sub headers so people can scan.

  • Use bulleted lists because they’re easy to read.

  • Sum up at the end and outline next steps.

3.       Close warm and personal

If the meat and potatoes of your email is all business time, the end is where you bring the vibe up again. Close by opening the door to questions and feedback and wishing people well.

For example:

Sing out if you’ve any thoughts or questions.

Have a fantastic day.

You can also leverage the power of the PS to add personality. Everyone reads a PS, so use it to insert a bit of humour or make a compliment. Again, it’s about making your correspondent feel good and leaving them on a high.

4.       Write the way you talk

You want your emails to feel like you. So, avoid artificial business language, and keep it casual,

If it helps to talk your email out as you go, then do so. You’ll gain a reputation for eccentric muttering, which is always a bonus.

Writing professional comms people actually want to read

A report lands in your inbox and your heart sinks as you realise you’re going to have to wade through 50 pages of agonising corporate toss to extract a few nuggets that could have been summed up on a single page. We’ve all been there, right?

But it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, it really doesn’t have to be that way, because it takes less time to write entertaining comms people actually want to read, than it does to write turgid drivel.

There are 4 key things to consider.

1.Give each piece of content purpose.

  • Know who it’s for.

  • Give those people a reason to read it. What’s in it for them? What do they get?

  • Know what you want them to do when they’re done.

2. Plan your content.

Here’s how to plan in five steps.

1.       Brain dump everything you know about your topic. Do this before you do any research. Don’t censor yourself. Get it all out and filter it after.

Here are a few ways to do this.

  • Whiteboard session with your team.

  • Use post-its (easy to group into themes).

  • If you’re a visual thinker, do a mind map.

  • Make a list of everything you know about your topic.

  • Approach it like a journalist. Ask what, where, when, who, how and why?

Use whatever method works best for you. If you haven’t found a way to download that works for you yet, try a few of these techniques to see what clicks.

2.       Group your brain dump into coherent themes. Give each theme a name that explains to your reader how this info will make their life better.

3.       Decide what content to include. Go back to that outcome you promised your reader. For each theme ask yourself, do my readers need to know this to get that promised outcome? If a piece of content isn’t relevant leave it out. If you’re in two minds leave it until the end and then ask yourself if it helps strengthen your content. Often you’ll find you’re fine without.

4.       Gather everything you need to bring your content to life.

Rich content includes:

  • Real life stories and examples to bring your points to life.

  •  Research and stats to add credibility.

  • Metaphors to add colour.

  • Visuals to help people understand.

Gather the goods. This is also the time to plug any gaps in your knowledge with research or interviews.

5.       Create an outline for your content. Put the topics you want to explore in order, starting with the topics most important to your reader.

When you create a content outline, cover the following bases.

  • Draft working title

  • Intro

    • What’s this about?

    • Who is it for?

    • Why should they read it?

    • Topics you’ll cover

  • Unpack each topic:

    • Strong sub header that explains to the reader why reading this section makes their life better

    • Points that support your topic

    • Bring it to life with stories and case studies, proof and stats, metaphors and visuals / infographics

    • Key takeaway or a learning to action

    • Conclusion

  • Summarise what you’ve told them.

  • One key thing to takeaway.

  • Your call to action

3. Know the elements of good writing

Good writing is relevant to its readers

  • It’s written for a primary reader.

  • It’s written with purpose to deliver value to that reader.

  • And it makes a clear promise to that reader right up front.

Good writing is clear

  • It uses plain language.

  • It’s accessible.

  •  It’s concise.

  • It’s conversational.

4. Kick business jargon to the kerb

Technical jargon exists for a reason. It’s shorthand to help people with specialist expertise communicate with each other.

But even within expert circles, jargon isn’t as well understood as you’d think. In fact, there’s research indicating people who use lots of jargon often have a poorer grasp of technical concepts than people who use plain language to explain concepts. People can use jargon to try to hide lack of knowledge.

But if you can’t use jargon, how do you explain complicated concepts?

Tell people a story about a problem you solved, instead of telling them about your expertise. This is what writers call showing, not telling. Storytelling is using real life examples to explain what you do, telling stories about your work, instead of summarising and removing human interest.

Share content that creates connection

I’m a content evangelist because I know how much richness creating content brings into your life. Sharing the right content attracts opportunity and community.

Opportunity can come in the form of:

  • Invites to collaborate.

  • Access to other platforms to share your expertise.

  • New business.

  • New roles.

Community can show up as:

  • Ideal clients.

  • A group of high performing peers.

  • Great minds to learn from.

  • Kindred spirits ( going all Anne of Green Gables on you).

  • Up and coming talent to nurture.

The best way to create connection with your content is to:

  1. Keep content relevant to your audience’s needs. You’ll need to prioritise your audience, because you can’t talk to everyone at once, and typically your ideal clients will be top of the heap.

  2. Include personal storytelling. This can be the tale of your professional journey, the origin of your purpose, learnings from everyday life, fails, wins, whatever. The important bit is to share content that gives an insight into who you are, because that helps people feel they know you.

About that prince …

I’ve met two princes in my life. The first when I was four.

We lived on a small island to the west of the Falkland Islands. For most of the year the population of the island consisted of 6 humans, hundreds of sheep, and a disgruntled donkey. But every spring thousands of black-browed albatrosses, rockhopper, and jackass penguins arrived on the island, closely followed by the Lindblad Explorer, a small cruise ship for wealthy bird fanciers with a yen for the wild southern archipelagos of the world.

One morning my father came into the kitchen and announced a prince was arriving on the Lindblad that afternoon.

High excitement ensued.

Like many kids in the seventies, I’d been raised on a diet of Ladybird Classics, and princes were exotic dudes with page boy bobs, silken hose, flouncy sleeves, and a white horse or two hanging around in their general vicinity. So, I was agog to see this glamorous creature.

Alas Bernhard, prince of the Netherlands, prince of Lippe-Biesterfeld did not deliver the goods. Aged in his mid-sixties, he was, to my youthful eyes, somewhat older than I’d anticipated, with thinning hair and robust spectacles. Like every other cruise ship passenger, he wore a bright red windproof jacket to protect him from the incessant southerly winds that cut through you like a knife.

No matter I thought. He’ll have his doublet and hose on underneath.

But when the mild summer weather encouraged him to shuck off his coat, it revealed a rather dowdy suit. My mother remembers my affronted little face to this day.

How is this relevant?

My disappointment was down to the gap between my expectation and reality. Poor old Bernhard. The image of princes promoted to under-fives in western society really did him a disservice. Had my books painted princes as mild, studious men who enjoyed birds, I’d have been less disappointed. Less interested too, but no matter, Bernhard would have attracted his crowd.

And there’s the rub with all of this. Infusing personality into your communications lets folks know who you are. This attracts like-minded souls and (just as importantly) puts off people who don’t jive with your vibe. So long as the storytelling you share is authentic you’re not setting people up to be disappointed like long ago five year old me.

Back to where we began, hating on old school professionalism. One reason I despise certain aspects of the professional so much is it obscures the personal. It makes people look, sound, and think alike. It creates an army of interchangeable drones, where the individual is secondary to the corporate edifice.

And where’s the humanity and colour and joy in that?

How you communicate sets the vibe for how people relate to you. So set ‘em up to look forward to that experience, because you’re awesome, and people deserve to know.