The curse of knowledge: Is your expertise making turning you into a bad writer?

Here’s a fun challenge. Try to read this passage by Dr. Judith Butler, excerpted from her article “Further Reflections on the Conversations of Our Time”:

The move from a structuralist account in which capital is understood to structure social relations in relatively homologous ways to a view of hegemony in which power relations are subject to repetition, convergence, and rearticulation brought the question of temporality into the thinking of structure, and marked a shift from a form of Althusserian theory that takes structural totalities as theoretical objects to one in which the insights into the contingent possibility of structure inaugurate a renewed conception of hegemony as bound up with the contingent sites and strategies of the rearticulation of power.

Did you get anything out of that sentence? (And yes, have another look—it is a single sentence.) If you didn't, you’re not alone, and not just because most of us aren’t structuralist theorists. The writing is vague, difficult to follow, and couched in dense jargon. In fact, actual academics found the phrase so unclear, they nominated it for the scholarly journal Philosophy and Literature’s annual bad writing competition—which it won squarely.

The problem isn’t that Professor Butler doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Quite the opposite. She’s a well-respected philosopher, gender theorist, and author, known even outside of academia for her 1990 bestseller, Gender Trouble. She holds a named chair at UC Berkeley, which is pretty much as close as you can get to being academic royalty. Butler knows exactly what she’s trying to say.

Which is precisely the problem. “The main cause of incomprehensible prose is the difficulty of imagining what it’s like for someone else not to know something that you know,” writes Steven Pinker in The Sense of Style. He calls it the “curse of knowledge,” a nod to the term economists use to describe why some sellers behave as though buyers had access to their private insights—instead of using what they know to cut themselves a better deal.

This failure of imagination spells trouble for marketers. When we can’t envision what our customers don’t know, we default to obscure acronyms, domain-specific jargon, and proprietary terms of our own invention—and don’t even realize that we’re doing it. Meanwhile, our prospects stumble around in the fog we created, just trying to find the information they need.

So what’s the solution? To overcome the curse of knowledge, we first need to understand how it works, recognize when we’re under its thrall, and then correct for it. Here’s how.

Where the curse of knowledge comes from (Or, why it’s so hard for us to empathize)

The curse of knowledge is deeply rooted in our human psychology. As young children, we lack a “theory of mind,” that is, the ability to recognize that others have inner worlds distinct from our own. Studies in psychology show that when very young children are given access to some secret insight—say, where a toy is hidden—they think that another child, outside of the room, should know where it’s hidden too.

As we get older, we mostly outgrow this bias, but not entirely. In similar experiments conducted with adults, grown-ups will still slightly skew their guess on where someone will look for an object based on where they know it’s hidden. Our most deeply rooted instincts are telling us that everyone experiences the world the same way we do—even though we know that patently isn’t true.

There’s a little word for being about to imagine another person’s experience: empathy.

If you’re a marketer, you’ve probably been hit over the head with treatises on why empathy is critical to the success of your programs and campaigns. (Like this one, this one, and this one.) And while I agree that empathy is key to being a good marketer, as well as a good communicator in general, I’m not going to focus on the why, but the how.

We all believe that empathy is essential, but how do you get better at it when your own psychology is priming you to not be empathetic?

How to cultivate empathy in your writing: two approaches

Luckily, theory of mind is a skill that can be trained. There are two key ways to boost your empathy for your audience—firstly, by strengthening your ‘theory of mind’ more generally, and secondly, by developing personal connections with the people you’re trying to reach.

1) Use fiction to stimulate your imagination
When it comes to training your empathy muscle (aka your ‘theory of mind’), some of the best exercise you can give it is reading fiction. A 2013 study showed that consuming literary fiction improved test subjects’ performance on theory of mind tests, at least temporarily. By imaginatively putting yourself in the headspace of a fictional character, you force yourself to overcome your own inherent biases and practice envisioning what it must be like to be someone else.

Reading isn’t the only way to do this. There’s also some evidence that engaging in “compassionate meditation” (sometimes called “loving kindness meditation”) can also boost your ability to empathize. In this kind of meditation, you envision the suffering of others and wish for their relief. If you’re interested in trying it out, the Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin has a free guided meditation you can follow.

By exercising your imaginative powers, whether through reading or meditation, you'll be much better able to put yourself in your audience’s shoes—and much less likely to fall prey to the curse of knowledge.

2) Spend quality time with your audience
It’s all well and good to practice empathy in general, but what about putting yourself in the shoes of your specific audience? You need to get to know them. This isn’t new or groundbreaking advice—every marketer and their uncle has created some kind of buyer persona to capture the audience they want to market to. But, as Contently’s Joe Lazauskas writes, these personas fall short of the real thing. “Sure, you get their age, 3-5 bullet points on their challenges and aspirations, a random stock photo, and a weird codename like ‘The Milleniator,’” he says. “Maybe a buzzword-programmed robot would develop empathy from that, but humans do not.”

What humans do develop empathy from is spending time with people. (Real ones, not stock photos.) Studies have shown that wealthy people are less compassionate than those of more modest means—and research suggests it’s because wealthy people don’t have to rely as much on others, making them less attuned to their perspectives. The same thing applies to marketers: When the only quality time you spend with your customers is looking at a buyer persona slide deck,  it’s going to be harder to avoid the curse of knowledge. Alternatively, spending time with your customers, getting to know them as people, and understanding their challenges makes it much easier to empathize with them.

Admittedly, this is more difficult in Covid times as we’ve been starved of the meetups, conferences, and networking events where we can organically interact with buyers. (Or, as Lazauskas puts it, “deprived of the majesty of drinking a vodka soda in an expo hall.”) But you’d be surprised at how willing your audience is to chat with you virtually. People like to share their opinions and, generally speaking, they’re flattered that you care enough to ask. Look through your contact list on LinkedIn—is there anyone in your target market who might be willing to give you thirty minutes of their time for a call?

If you feel weird about asking for your audience’s time without giving back anything in return, consider turning it into an interview series. With light editing, you can easily turn your interview transcript into a blog post—giving your interviewee a piece that helps them establish themself as a thought leader in their field. You gain a deeper understanding of their perspective and they build their personal brand. Win-win!

Putting in the effort to work your empathy muscle will pay off in the long run, as you find it easier and easier to put yourself in your customers’ shoes. Though it will take some time, the effort is worth it.

But don’t worry—there are things you can do to make your writing more empathetic today. Below, I share three exercises you can use while editing that can help you break free from the curse of knowledge and make your writing much friendlier to your readers.

3 exercises to make your writing more empathetic in minutes

1) Put your writing through the “grandma test”

When writing about a dense or technical topic, linguist Dr. Jeffrey Punske recommends a simple exercise: “Try and explain it to your grandma, to your uncle ... or to your mother-in-law,” he says.

The idea isn’t that out there—a 2018 Journal of Consumer Research study found that when designers were prompted to imagine how end users interacting with their work would feel, their creations were more innovative. Picturing a specific audience member, particularly someone you know well, can help unlock empathy.

Plus, envisioning a close relative or friend who doesn’t have expertise in your field can force you to simplify your ideas in a way a non-expert can understand. It’s a strategy to break down dense jargon and technical research into easy-to-grasp concepts. And if you struggle to explain a topic simply, you might need to do some more work on understanding it yourself.

The grandma test

Picture your grandma (or friend/relative of choice) and ask yourself:

• What words might this person not recognize? (Define those.)
• What concepts would be unfamiliar to them? (Explain those.)
• What kinds of metaphors could you use to illustrate unfamiliar ideas? (Use those.)

In the words of Wharton Professor Adam Grant, “Good communicators make themselves look smart. Great communicators make their audiences feel smart.” How can you write about your topic in a way that lets your readers instantly get it? Add the grandma test as a step in your writing process—a great time is right after you complete your first draft.

2) WAP: Write out acronyms, please

You might have thought I was going in a completely different direction with that acronym, which just illustrates that acronyms can be easily confused or misunderstood. That’s why I recommend always writing out acronyms on first usage. Always. Even if it's a common shorthand in your field, it’s a sign of courtesy. It shows friendliness to people who might be new to what you do and gives them a way to orient themselves. To folks who are just learning, it says, “Hey, we see you, and you’re welcome here.”

(Jokes aside, Cardi B does an admirable job of spelling out her terminology in full before defaulting to the shorthand “WAP.” She’s evidently a master of clear and precise writing.)

But don’t feel like you need to spell acronyms in full every time. This will make your writing long-winded and tedious—particularly to those who already have some familiarity with your topic. It’s enough to write out the phrase in full on first usage and then put the acronym in brackets following it.

One way to make your writing instantly more empathetic is to do a careful scan for acronyms (it can also help to have a colleague edit your work, in case you miss any). Make sure you’ve defined each one once, then feel free to pepper the short version throughout your work. Your readers will thank you.

3) Create a banned words blocklist

Jargon is like hot air; it puffs up ideas—making them sound good, but not actually adding any substance. For instance, take one of my pet peeves: the phrase “business-oriented.” What does it actually mean? Are companies who claim to be business-oriented any more focused on their business than those who don’t? Saying you’re “business-oriented” is a way to fill space and sound smart without actually saying anything.

Worse, jargon can make your writing dense and difficult to parse. But many B2B writers feel like they need to plump up their writing with buzzwords to sound credible. Take this real example from a case study I wrote, before and after editing by the client.

Original quote: “We facilitate peer-to-peer collaboration. So not only are they getting their expertise from our firm, they also get it from our portfolio companies.”

After edits: “We facilitate peer-to-peer collaboration. This allows us to foster an expert community that shares our collective IP and activates a world-class support network of collaborators that delivers tangible value impact to our portfolio and becomes a desirable resource to prospect management teams.”

The first version is pretty clear and digestible. The second takes the reader on a wild goose chase through unnecessary buzzwords that obscure the message. When it comes to striking meaningless puffery from your writing, it can be helpful to follow George Orwell’s famous writing advice: “Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.” In other words: Avoid clichés.

It’s a piece of writing advice that The Economist has taken to heart—and even formalized in its style guide. During the pandemic, the phrase ‘it’s not a panacea’ has been repeated so often as to become trite. “In our style guide, it actually says very nicely ‘if you do discover a panacea, please let the world know,’” says language columnist Lane Greene. “A panacea is something that cures all. So of course nothing is a panacea.”

For marketers, it can be helpful to create a “banned words” blocklist featuring all the most commonly used buzzwords you’re trying to avoid. If you need inspiration (I envy your innocence) you can check out TrustRadius’ 2021 list of most annoying business buzzwords—and for my sake, please add “business-oriented'' to the top of your list.

Too smart for your own good

Gaining deep knowledge in your field is an admirable achievement, but our human psychology makes us forget what it’s like to not know what we know now. If we’re not careful, our own expertise can work against us—creating barriers between us and the people we’re trying to reach.

I believe that even the most complicated of ideas can be explained simply. While I’m not a philosopher, here’s what I think Judith Butler was getting at in her famously opaque sentence:

Post-structuralist* philosophers are proposing a new way of thinking about money and power. While their predecessors believed that accumulated money (capital) influences social relationships in static, predictable ways, the post-structuralists see it as something in motion—constantly changing the ways in which power relationships behave.

*Post-structuralism is a philosophical movement that rejects the idea that human society or media can be interpreted through rigid structures.

Dr. Butler did respond to her bad writing “award” in a New York Times op-ed. “No doubt, scholars in the humanities should be able to clarify how their work informs and illuminates everyday life,” she wrote. It just goes to show, we’re all on a journey to be more empathetic writers—top academics included.

Whether writing for consumers or philosophers, empathy for our audience doesn’t always come naturally. It might require some mindful effort. But the ability to connect with your readers is well worth it.  

As for Dr. Butler’s thoughts on her “prize”? In the same op-ed, she responded wryly, “I’m still waiting for my check!”

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