“Do you speak Globlish?” (or the perils of phrasal verbs)

This week’s post was supposed to be a Part Two of last week’s musings on corporate storytelling, but I’ve been sidetracked. After spending much of the last three days developing an internal video project aimed at our managers around the world, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what type of English you need to use for a global audience.

The problem raised its ugly head early on in the process. The film involves a dozen or so employees – French, Italian, Indian, German and British - delivering lines to camera. Most of the people watching it will not speak English as a first language. If this sounds something like the joke about an Englishman, an Italian and a Frenchman walk into a bar, that’s because it is.

Most discussions on the ‘type’ of English to use in corporate communications are variations on the age-old British versus American English debate. Everyone has their own rules. Mine is that if your audience is Western Europe, go with British; if you’re widening it out to the rest of Europe, American wins out marginally; and if your audience is global, then only American will do. Above all, choose one and stick to it: there’s nothing more irritating to a linguistic pedant than a piece of writing schizophrenically spattered with ‘z’s and ‘s’s. It’s one of the reasons I hate the Paris metro.

In fact the real language of international English is not American English at all. It’s Globlish. Using American English as a starting point, you need to eliminate all the vocabulary and structures that get in the way of a non-native speaker understanding what you’re trying to say. At a basic level, this means getting rid of cultural references masquerading as words. (For example, the French describe sticky tape as “Scotch”. The English call it “Sellotape”. Why? Because the two rival brands got a foothold in each country at a different time). You also need to shorten sentences – although this is good practice anyway. But the real holy grail is complete elimination of phrasal verbs.

You may not even have heard of phrasal verbs if you’re a native speaker. When you were growing up, you probably got away with learning no grammar, looking up the odd term in the dictionary when you were looking to impress someone, and generally you’d get away with it.

As a non-native speaker… well, after years of painstaking study, you probably still wouldn’t understand that last sentence.

Make up, run out, set up… English is full of dastardly combinations of deceptively simple verbs and prepositions which mean something entirely different when strung together. So whereas passing out might be the unfortunate consequence of a typically British bout of binge-drinking, passing away is altogether more serious.

As a global communicator you need to banish these words from your vocabulary. This is very hard, because most native speakers, when urged to make things simple, fall back on Anglo-Saxon vocabulary, which is mainly made up of… that’s right, phrasal verbs. It’s one of the irritating reasons that foreigners often understand other foreigners speaking English better than they understand the real thing. To speak Globlish is to tread the fine dividing line between straightforward, simple English and the easy Latinate alternatives – “tolerate” instead of “put up with” for example - that, used excessively, will catapult your writing into a bizarre Franglish translation.

How not to tell your corporate story: the sausage factory test

I went to an event the other night where someone asked what my company did. I started trotting out the standard spiel before I realised, after 30 seconds, their eyes had glazed over. I stopped. "You see that chair? Whether or not it's safe to sit on - the material, the design, the way it's put together - will have been checked by one of the engineers from my company. Not only that, but the boat it arrived in from China, the factory it was made in, and the working conditions of the people who made it, will also have been checked by us. In fact, pretty much everything you use, every day, will have been checked by someone from my company or a company like it".

I can't pretend this flash of inspiration started an in-depth conversation about the values of conformity assessment. However it did get me thinking just how badly most companies tell their corporate stories.

Most companies grasp the idea that the homepage of the corporate website is not the place for a 1000-word essay on the intricacies of their business model and the complex drivers behind their markets. They understand that you should be able to say what you want to say in a couple of sentences. Yet when they put pen to paper, any real explanation of what they do, or the value it brings to their customers tends to go out of the window. I came across the following example in the About Us section of a FTSE100 company the other day:

“We are a leading global company that continues to be financially, operationally and strategically strong, and poised for growth".

All well and good, but it gives absolutely no indication of who they are or what they do. The second sentence continues:

“We strive to foster a culture that values and rewards exemplary ethical standards, personal and corporate integrity and respect for others".

Other than the rather questionable assumption that a giant corporation should be handing out brownie points for personal integrity, the main problem with this sentence is that you have no idea whether the people in question are miners, bankers or hairdressers. In fact this is a classic example of a company description that fails the all-important “sausage factory test”.

There are two versions of the sausage factory test. Level One is where without changing any of the words, you could use the same description to describe a sausage factory. In the case of the company above, it would have to be a fairly international sort of sausage factory, perhaps also producing frankfurters and chorizo, and maybe even the odd andouillette, but it definitely stands.

Level Two is where by changing just a couple of words – usually a list of the company’s products or services – you could use the description to describe a sausage factory. Another FTSE100 company – coincidentally one of the first company’s competitors offers:

“X is a Chilean-based copper mining group with interests in transport and water distribution. It is listed on the London Stock Exchange and has been a constituent of the FTSE-100 index since 2004.”

Swap “sausages” for “copper mining” and “pizza and chips” for “transport and water distribution” and….well, you get the picture.

Level Three is where the description does tell you what the company does, but is so packed with generic (sausage factory) words – leading, major, global, plus a string of ultimately meaningless list of figures describing the turnover or number of employees- that you sense an opportunity has been lost to tell the real story. In fact as most companies make it past Levels One and Two, Level Three is the one you really need to worry about. Take the following description from the homepage of a CAC40 company:

“X is the world’s leading steel and mining company. Guided by a philosophy to produce safe, sustainable steel, it is the leading supplier of quality steel products in all major markets including automotive, construction, household appliances and packaging. X operates in 60 countries and employs about 260,000 people worldwide.”

You may think this is unfair. If you’re not Coca-Cola or Apple, in an unglamorous sector and with an unevocative name, surely you need to shout from the rooftops that you’re the biggest and best in what you do? My suggestion is don’t blacklist adjectives of the “mine is bigger than yours” variety, or key figures, but attach a warning bell on each: think what you’re trying to say, and whether it really adds anything.

And for those of you who are thinking, “that’s all very well, but what would you put in its place”, the next post will be about how to tell your story once you’ve sat the sausage factory test.

ing out the standard spiel before I realised, after 30 seconds, their eyes had glazed over. I stopped. "You see that chair? Whether or not it's safe to sit on - the material, the design, the way it's put together - will have been checked by one of the engineers from my company. Not only that, but the boat it arrived in from China, the factory it was made in, and the working conditions of the people who made it, will also have been checked by us. In fact, pretty much everything you use, every day, will have been checked by someone from my company or a company like it".

I can't pretend this flash of inspiration started an in-depth conversation about the values of conformity assessment. However it did get me thinking just how badly most companies tell their corporate stories.

Most companies grasp the idea that the homepage of the corporate website is not the place for a 1000-word essay on the intricacies of their business model and the complex drivers behind their markets. They understand that you should be able to say what you want to say in a couple of sentences. Yet when they put pen to paper, any real explanation of what they do, or the value it brings to their customers tends to go out of the window. I came across the following example in the About Us section of a FTSE100 company the other day:

"We are a leading global company that continues to be financially, operationally and strategically strong, and poised for growth".

All well and good, but it gives absolutely no indication of who they are or what they do. The second sentence continues:

"We strive to foster a culture that values and rewards exemplary ethical standards, personal and corporate integrity and respect for others".

Other than the rather questionable assumption that a giant corporation should be handing out brownie points for personal integrity, the main problem with this sentence is that you have no idea whether the people in question are miners, bankers or hairdressers. In fact this is a classic example of a company description that fails the all-important “sausage factory test”.

There are two versions of the sausage factory test. Level One is where without changing any of the words, you could use the same description to describe a sausage factory. In the case of the company above, it would have to be a fairly international sort of sausage factory, perhaps also producing frankfurters and chorizo, and maybe even the odd andouillette, but it definitely stands.

Level Two is where by changing just a couple of words – usually a list of the company’s products or services – you could use the description to describe a sausage factory. Another FTSE100 company – coincidentally one of the first company’s competitors offers:

“X is a Chilean-based copper mining group with interests in transport and water distribution. It is listed on the London Stock Exchange and has been a constituent of the FTSE-100 index since 2004.”

Swap “sausages” for “copper mining” and “pizza and chips” for “transport and water distribution” and….well, you get the picture.

Level Three is where the description does tell you what the company does, but is so packed with generic (sausage factory) words – leading, major, global, plus a string of ultimately meaningless list of figures describing the turnover or number of employees- that you sense an opportunity has been lost to tell the real story. In fact as most companies make it past Levels One and Two, Level Three is the one you really need to worry about. Take the following description from the homepage of a CAC40 company:

“X is the world’s leading steel and mining company. Guided by a philosophy to produce safe, sustainable steel, it is the leading supplier of quality steel products in all major markets including automotive, construction, household appliances and packaging. X operates in 60 countries and employs about 260,000 people worldwide.”

You may think this is unfair. If you’re not Coca-Cola or Apple, in an unglamorous sector and with an unevocative name, surely you need to shout from the rooftops that you’re the biggest and best in what you do? My suggestion is don’t blacklist adjectives of the “mine is bigger than yours” variety, or key figures, but attach a warning bell on each: think what you’re trying to say, and whether it really adds anything.

And for those of you who are thinking, “that’s all very well, but what would you put in its place”, the next post will be about how to tell your story once you’ve sat the sausage factory test.