How many! Exclamation points!! Is too many!!!
Creating a brand tone that’s conversational, not exhausting.
The notification on my smartphone says:
Congratulations!
You’ve earned a trophy!
I should be pleased, I guess — who doesn’t like trophies? — but instead I’m irritated. It’s not that I hate this sort of chatty, excited tone; it’s that this chatty, excited tone is coming from my bank. Or more precisely, from my bank’s app, which is the only way I seem to be able to interact with the money I’ve deposited there.
This is what it looks like:
Not like those other guys.
A more conversational tone is something I’ve advocated to many clients, especially if the communication is intended for a consumer audience. Big organizations usually default to stilted, overly formal language in an (often subconscious) attempt to sound more legitimate. This is where you get that bland, opaque verbiage so characteristic of corporate websites —
…provides the serious computing power needed to deliver smooth gameplay on today’s top titles.
…building and supporting programs that positively impact healthcare in communities across America.
Getting an organization to loosen up a little is something good copywriters and strategists often push for, and as brands try to form more direct relationships with their customers, it’s usually a good idea.
Younger upstarts, in contrast, tend to rush headlong to the other end of the tonal spectrum. Their whole identity is based on the fact that they’re not like the old guys — they’re disruptive, they get it — and an informal tone is a quick way to announce that identity.
But not every step towards informality is a step in the right direction. If you’re helping me plan my vacation, or hooking me up with concert tickets, then sure, go ahead. If you’re managing my life savings, maybe think about this a bit more. Let‘s go back to that bank example.
Write like you’re disruptive.
I recently relocated to the Netherlands from the US, and among a legion of other logistical tasks, I had to set up a Dutch bank account. For an expat without a local banking history or residence card (yet), this can be slow and difficult with big banks like ING and Rabobank; newer online-only alternatives are one way to quickly get a temporary account going.
The bank I started with (which shall remain nameless) uses a clever series of digital and video-based verification steps to confirm identity, letting new members set up a working account in just a few hours. Crucially, this also gets you an IBAN number, something North American banks don’t use, but which is required for everything from health insurance to mobile phone plans in much of Europe.
This is all very disruptive as far as it goes — the app is quite powerful, and they do some really innovative things with temporary and shared accounts — but the copy is really, just…trying too hard. For example:
Awesome!
…is how they announce my completed registration, along with a motion graphic of party poppers raining confetti.
Be like Bond!
…means they want me to set up two-factor authentication.
Hello Mr. Bond
Your account is now extra secure!
…means I have successfully done so.
Ready to spend!
…means funds from my US bank have been received.
And so on. As I look at the app right now, I’m seeing no fewer than six exclamation points on a single screen, which is pretty typical.
Now, there are two things to say in this bank’s defense.
- They’ve successfully differentiated their brand — there’s no mistaking these guys with any financial service I’ve ever used.
- I am not 100% their target audience. It’s true I’m a fairly mobile creative professional who gets most of his services online, but I’m also 44 years old, and have things like IRAs, accounting software, and a child. So perhaps this kind of tone grates on me more than it would on a recent college grad raised on Adventure Time and cat memes.
But this kind of tone comes at a cost — a needless cost, I’d argue. It gains differentiation and approachability, but in the process it sacrifices credibility and clarity.
Your bank is not your buddy.
The credibility issue comes from mismatching topic and tone: Exhortations of “let’s get you started!” and “you’re almost there!”…followed by a request for a scan of my passport. Completing a sizable overseas money transfer…then an animation of exploding confetti and more exclamation points.
These are intended to be human touches, but what human would actually communicate so flippantly in such serious circumstances?
These aren’t moments where I’m seeking approachability. They’re moments of uncertainty and subtle anxiety, and I’m seeking confidence and reassurance. There are many ways to communicate these qualities, and they aren’t all distant and boring.
The clarity problem comes from the potentially non-specific nature of conversation. When you tell an acquaintance how your day was, and they say, “Oh…huh…great!” they aren’t actually praising or passing judgement on how you spent your Wednesday. They’re just acknowledging your statement and reinforcing your connection, while conveying zero information. This is an important act, sociologically speaking, because it establishes a sense of familiarity and ease.
But if I were to ask that same friend, “Did you get the three thousand dollars I sent you?” and they replied, “Great!” or “Awesome!” or something similarly chatty, that could mean a number of things — which confuses me, and causes anxiety. When my bank says something similar, I’m pretty sure I know what they mean, but this isn’t a situation where I want to be guessing. I want precision.
Be friendly. But be clear.
The thing is, being precise and reassuring doesn’t have to mean sounding stiff. For one example, look at Simple, another online-only bank that’s been quite disruptive in the US.
Like the Dutch bank above, Simple makes up for its lack of physical branches with a robust app and excellent customer service. They’ve also invested heavily in user experience, and take a broad view of what that includes, so not only do they have a silky smooth app and website experience, they’ve also got a supremely calming, easygoing tone in all their communication.
Unlike the Dutch bank above, Simple’s tone isn’t exactly chatty, but it is approachable, in a way that still makes the underlying information clear and reliable:
There are several nice touches here, linguistically speaking.
- Exclamations are reserved for introductory text, not informative statements.
So while one page does say, “Well, hello there!” it’s directly followed by a clear, non-exclamatory statement of what to expect next.
- The primary intent seems to be lowering anxiety:
Nothing fancy, just a few things to fill out…
This should only take a couple of minutes…
- The language is written as if coming from a communal entity:
Let’s start by creating… (as opposed to Please create your…)
Our budgeting tool… (rather than The/Your budgeting tool…)
…help us get to know you better. (and not …provide information about yourself)
- When non-standard wording is used, it never impedes clarity, and in many cases actually enhances it:
…the “can-I-buy-this?” math…
…take a sec and download the Simple app…
Notice how these elements add up to a brand identity that’s noticeably different from the buddy-buddy example above? Both are approachable, and both are clearly a break from the corporate blandness we usually associate with financial services. But where the first bank feels edgy and even a bit unpredictable, the Simple identity feels possibly more trustworthy than a typical bank, because of its gentle transparency. Enthusiastic chatter, it turns out, can obscure facts and consequences just as effectively as complex corporate-speak can.
An audience is more than its age.
If there’s an overarching takeaway from all of this, it’s that your tone should be dictated by the context in which it’s experienced, just as much as by the audience that’s experiencing it. Yes, Millennials and Gen Z are more comfortable with informality from brands than us older folks, but they’re also careful with their money.
Trying to push your tone to an informal, jokey extreme to appeal to younger consumers could make sense if you’re a fashion label or extreme sports brand. But no one would argue that a healthcare company should use the same tone as a cruise ship line, even if they’re both aimed primarily at Boomers.
The same goes with Millennials, or Gen X, or any group of human beings: our expectations shift with context, and using a one-size-fits-all tone is a great way to appear tone deaf.
