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My crib sheets (2): what I ask myself when reviewing reports
Time to reveal more of my crib sheets, the ones I furtively use during training days when delegates briefly review their own documents - and I review them too. Some of the crib sheets have existed only in my head, others surface throughout my book. Now they're all together in this email and the previous one. Maybe they’ll help when you next review stuff, be it your own report or someone else's.
Last month's email looked at the questions I ask when reviewing particular types of reports - a plan, pitch, proposal, pack, etc. Today, we look at the analysis I do when reviewing bits of reports - its tables, words, pros and cons, etc. My suggestions are in no particular order. Some will take seconds for you to do, some a minute or two.
If it's a review of options, I count the number of pros and cons for each option: each option should have the same number of pros and cons as all other options. So, for instance, if option A has three pros and six cons, i.e. nine in total, then the sum of (pros and cons) for option B should also equal nine. Ditto for option C.
If they don't, something is missing - but remember: even if they each have the same number of pros and cons, something still might be missing - maybe each option is missing one thing. For more on this, try this previous email update.
If there's a list of adjectives, I think of a few that are missing: when designing a process or a system, people like to list adjectives, e.g. "we need a system that is robust, fast and accurate". They think it proves rigour ("Look! Three adjectives!"), plus they think it helps ensure decent design. I then counter: "But surely it needs also to be adaptable, yeah? And understandable... and value-for-money, no?" Listing adjectives is a doomed exercise - you list three, your boss dreams up four you missed, then their boss dreams up three more. A committee then debates them in detail. What a waste of time. What to do instead? This previous email tells you.
If it's a deck (part 1): I count how many words are on a row of text. A deck is in landscape - and if it's a report, its text is often font size 10 or 11 - so it's easy to find 25 words on a single row. Which is brutal to read. We lose the will to live as we read from far left to far right.
If it's a deck (part 2): I look for fragmented befores and afters. The before is on page 8 ("look, we currently have eight controls") and the after is on page 10 ("we recommend having ten controls"). Readers are forced to flick back and forth between pages to spot differences ("hmmm, that control has gone... but we seem to have two new ones... no wait! Is that a new control too?"). This happens because PowerPoint's slide-sorter lets us carve up the writing between people. Result: we write in silos. And our report remains in silos. This email explains more.
If it’s a table of numbers: in 2024, a delegate asked me a question I’d never been asked before, and it was a belter: “When you look at a table and are pondering its layout or structure, what thought first goes through your head?”. I instantly knew the answer, for it’s what I always first ponder with tables. However, until he asked me the question, I’d never consciously realised it. So here’s the answer: should the table be transposed?
That’s it. There’s no point in tweaking formats or reordering rows and columns if I then decide to twist it around. How do you know whether to transpose a table? Here’s the answer, it’s in a previous email. With thanks to Oscar Thompson of Heriot-Watt, for he was the delegate that asked me the question.
If I wish to show that something is tough to read: when reviewing a tough-to-read report during a Course, I quickly scan through it to find a particularly bad sentence to show delegates, one that has a high so-called Fog Factor (see page 107 of my book). By finding such a sentence, it helps reinforce the learning. And here’s the weird thing: over the years, I’ve learnt that tough writing often sits in a report’s first two or three paragraphs or in its last two or three. Strange...
I have theories as to why. For instance, tough writing is often at the end of reports whose conclusions aren’t particularly concrete, i.e. where there are no real next steps, recommendations or conclusions. The writer seemingly strives to mask this paucity by moving into civil-service speak, e.g. “It is critical in this process to continue to facilitate ongoing stakeholder engagement and collaboration”. Look out for this, it’s fun when you spot it.
I also have a theory as to why bad writing is often at the start of reports - but let's move on.
If I'm struggling with a few simple paragraphs (I use this tip every working week of my life - don't underestimate it): often when reading a few paragraphs, I realise that I understand each sentence individually but am confused overall. If that happens to you, do this: print the paragraphs, get a pen, and then alongside each sentence, write a word or two to describe the topic it covers (IT, Finance, Staff, etc). Or its tenses (present, future, past). Or its findings (bad, average, good, wait-til-next-month-to-see, etc). I bet the paragraphs jump around a lot – and lo, you’ve found the problem. To solve the problem, reorder the sentences so as to improve how its topics are grouped and how they flow.
If it's a summary, I count the numbers in it (part 1): if there are no numbers, I'm unnerved, for it's all a bit loosey-goosey. Imprecise. A bit Yes Minister-ish, e.g. "We need more staff. Benefits will arise in short order, etc." Its authors obviously don't like having their feet held to the fire.
If it's a summary, I count the numbers (part 2): if there are thirty or more numbers, again I'm unnerved. I often see this... a one-page summary with, say, seven paragraphs, and embedded within them there are, say, 50 numbers. "ABC is £X, up Y% on budget - whereas DEF is £S, T% favourable on last year, etc". It's horrible. Phraseology changes ("up", "above" "favourable"). Comparatives change too, often deceitfully ("up on last year", "fav to budget", "above last month", etc). Also, errors often arise - authors overtype stuff from the prior month but unwittingly fail to overtype, say, last month's "above" with this month's "beneath". Finally, its authors obviously can't filter, they fail to help me see the wood for the trees... which of those 50 numbers matter? To see what to do instead, this email explains.
If it has lists - or sections, paragraphs, rows of a WiT, rows of a table, etc - I ask: "What order are they in?": often, the answer is: random. Sometimes, they are in a particular order - but readers aren't told that. They're left to work it out for themselves. Which is cruel. Notice in my emails, I tell readers the order, e.g.: "The tips are in no particular order".
Let's finish with a tip that is also a fun bit.
If its recommendations are multi-layered (e.g. it says: "If ABC, do this - and if DEF, do that - but only if XYZ is that, etc": I tell people it should be a decision tree - and then show how Meg Ryan ('Sally') ordered pie in the movie When Harry Met Sally.
Sally: But I'd like the pie heated and I don't want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side and I'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it; if not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream – but only if it's real; if it's out of a can then nothing.
Waitress: Not even the pie?
Sally: No, just the pie, but then not heated.
All rather confusing. A shame, because Meg had incredibly well-defined priorities, but conveyed them the wrong way. A tree would be better - see the Figure.
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