For whom do you write?
Is choosing every word to get the reader response you want a good writing strategy?
A common way of looking at writing is to focus on the impact your words will have on the reader. Accurately connect the words you choose with the idea you are trying to communicate and the reader will get your message. The reader will clearly understand your ideas, accept your point and you have done your job well. But do things work that way in the real world?
The importance of this traditional view of writing appears in the many articles that place emphasis on getting the response you want from the reader. Articles that take “how to get your reader to…” as the fundamental model for any essay. Whether a lengthy essay or a simple listicle, the underpinning basis of communication is the same: “do this and your reader will do this”.
We can find the roots of this approach to communication in the principles of information theory. This model starts with the quantification of signal processing, transmission and reception. We can reduce any communication to a mathematical model and measure it for efficiency and accuracy. The idea that the relationship between the writer and reader is analogous to, say, a radio transmission can be traced back to the work of C. E. Shannon in the 1940s. Such theories suggest communication works like this:
Source: encodes their message into a signal
Transmitter: sends signal to receiver
Medium: carries the signal to a receiver
Receiver: receives the signal
Recipient: decodes the signal into a message
For this medium (writing via the internet), the process looks like this: the writer (source) encodes their ideas via words and the keyboard, uploads them via a browser (transmitter), transmits them via the internet (medium), the reader (recipient) displays them on their browser (receiver) and decodes the words into ideas.
In this model, we measure the quality of communication by evaluating how well this process keeps the details of the original message. Loss of detail occurs during encoding, signal transmission and decoding. A good system maintains fidelity to the original message. To improve communication, you improve the quality of the encoding, reduce the signal loss or noise during transmission and improve the quality of the decoding.
In mechanical writing (as opposed to handwriting) there is very little, if any, signal loss during transmission. A letter “b” typed by the writer will be a letter “b” at the reader’s end. In writing, we place emphasis on the encoding — which words did the writer choose to encode their ideas. Choose the right words and communications works.
But is this mechanistic model valid for human communication? One obvious problem with the transmission model is that readers are not like radios. If you present several readers with a particular signal you are not always going to get the same effect. Alternate theories of communication suggest that communication is the product of two active processes working in opposite directions: the writer working on choosing the words to use and the reader applying their comprehension processes and values to the words. The only common denominator is the text on the page that lies at the intersection of these two processes.
Such theories reject a predictable response to any particular signal. Some go as far to suggest reading is not a response at all. Readers read with intention as they construct meaning out of the letters they observe. These models put as much emphasis on the role of the reader as that of the writer.
Words are one form of signs and signs are complicated. There is a difference between the physical form of the sign, what the sign stands for and the meaning the reader (or writer) draws from a sign. The swastika is a good illustration of this disconnect. Although it appears in many forms, the basic shape of the swastika is common: a square hooked cross. What it stands for depends on your culture: in eastern religions it is good fortune, in the west the Nazi party. If the reader took it to stand for the latter, its meaning (good or bad) would depend on your cultural and political views. The words “Trump” or “Obama” will get you a galaxy of emotions.
The reader creates meaning based on their own abilities, values, experiences and intent. These are beyond the knowledge or understanding of the writer. So how does the writer elicit the response they desire from the reader?
The most encountered advice is for the writer to consider their audience and use common language, style and subject matter to make a better connection. Style guides that work to reduce ambiguity also support this direct approach. A more recent trend in writing is to write to include those with less reading ability. Grade level and readability scores help the writer reach a wider audience.
These techniques work on the more mechanical aspects of writing. What about the components at each end of the written communication process: the ideas in the mind of the writer and the reader? How to better connect and align these? Unfortunately, these days, it seems the main way to do that is to simplify ideas. Reduce them down to sound-bites or lists. Actual discussion about a topic appears to have become rare and a thing of the past. So much writing now contains simplified statements about what is. No thought about alternatives. No acceptance that an idea may be wrong. This approach is common in politics and journalism. This makes sense as many authors and publishers consider the reader a passive target. The purpose of writing is to get the reader to think and act a certain way.
If the writer has no control past the moment they publish their words, why worry about the second half of the communication process? Why spend time thinking about the reader’s response when you have no clue how that response will get generated? Why not just write for yourself? Your voice. Your ideas. Instead of “what will the reader think?”, you only consider your beliefs, ideas and thought processes? What do you think? What are your words? What are your arguments? What is you narrative? And leave it at that. An oft cited lesson for writers is to write like you speak. Is the idea of writing like you think not a reasonable extension of this?
I like to compare writing to ballroom dancing (OK, ballroom dancing without all the glitter and the weird head movements and facial expressions). While ballroom dancing is often critiqued for the whole man leads, women follow idea, the reality is that the woman has ultimate control of the dance. The man offers a step and the woman chooses to accept. She follows or she doesn’t. If he makes that offer with clarity, she will know what to do. If it is a good step, she will engage with enthusiasm and the dance is a joy. But nothing happens unless the lead is certain of the dance they want to do and the skill to make that idea clear to a willing partner.
Of course, writing is different than dancing. In dance, the lead and follow always take the same path around the dance floor, even if the follow has not bought into the offer and is waiting (perhaps painfully) for the dance to end. In writing, the reader can go anywhere they want with the writer’s words and ideas. Or exit the dance floor at any time.
So. How do you view your reader? Are they a target where, by choosing the right word, you get a bullseye. Or are they a partner you invite to the dance floor for some potential fireworks?
About
James Britton writes reflections on his experiences in an attempt to become a better writer, a deeper thinker and to make sense of life. He is lucky enough to have a very satisfying day job, so there is no newsletter to sign up for. That said, he welcomes thoughtful comment, engaging private notes or a sign that what he writes may be interesting to someone (a heart click, a private note…the odd follow???).
