How Important Are Words Really When Telling the Story of Crisis?
Here’s a straightforward answer: very.
This came to mind recently when I heard an author talk about their new book that maintains we need to approach the world with “gratification” for all the things that are helpful or meaningful in life. In fact, they use a variant of this word in the book’s subtitle, which emphasizes pursuing a “gratifying” life.
I have no interest in this book, chiefly because this author is using “gratification” inaccurately. That word means “seeking pleasure.” It befits an inward focus. The author actually means one should approach the world with an outward focus of “gratitude,” not “gratification.”
Why would this lead to my avoiding such a book (and an author)? Because if you can’t use the correct word to express the core premise of your book I don’t see you as a thougtful storyteller. Furthermore, if you’re trying to misuse the word to brand your own take, then you’re simply another annoying striver who doesn’t have enough confidence to use words correctly to capture attention.
Why am I harping on this? Because the misuse of words, especially about a crisis, can damage the author’s credibility. This author apparently doesn’t have enough confidence to be precise in their language use. Words mean things, and they should be used with a desire to express. Using words incorrectly will certainly do more to impress, and not in a good way.
So, here are some commonly misused words that tend to obfuscate precise meaning when telling the story of crisis:
Dilemma — people tend to use this word to describe the organization or and individual thinking about what to do in a bad situation. What it really means is that whatever you choice you make in a situation is choosing from bad options. That is, there are no clear, discernable good options. Even in crisis situations, most scenarios are not dilemmas. For example, if Apple has a bad Iphone, it can choose from several options (recalling it, giving credit to individuals for a new phone, having it repaired through the Genius Bar) that aren’t necessarily bad.
Issue — this one also gets overused. People tend to talk of an issue as something annoying or troublesome. However, an issue has to reach such a critical mass that stakeholders see it as something that can be addressed. So, it’s not something that people simply have strong opinions on. Instead, it has to be an unsettled matter that is ready for a decision. Usually that matter is a gap between what the stakeholders want, and what the organization is delivering. For example, say a cereal maker is getting criticized for downsizing its packages and charging the same price. That is an issue. If, however, that cereal maker is failing to deep freeze its products sufficiently so that they can be viable products for a Mars colony, that may be troublesome but that it is not an issue. It is a potential future problem, known as a risk.
Recovery/normal — these terms are often used interchangeably. That is, storytellers of crisis tend to use both to say that an organization surviving crisis has mostly gotten back to regular operations. However, they tend to miss that there is a stage between the two: learning. It is possible that a storyteller of crisis can make the case for a “recovery—learning—normal sequence.” Odds are, however, the “recovery/normal” phraseology is incorrect precisely because of learning. That is, organizations and individuals that have pursued a diligent recovery and learning process will almost never be back to “normal.” That’s because they have learned to adjust and left behind what was normal, especially if that “normal” helped precipitate the crisis.
Bottom line, it’s always best to use words carefully in every situation. This is even more relevant for crisis stories because it’s likely the audience hearing/reading your story doesn’t have a frame of reference. Careful, exact word choices will allow you to better enlighten them.