Every communicator eventually learns the same uncomfortable truth. Complexity isn’t the enemy. Confusion is. Most ideas aren’t too complicated, they’re just too badly explained.
You see it everywhere. Corporate strategies written like legal disclaimers. Scientific breakthroughs buried under jargon. Transformation programmes launched in a blizzard of buzzwords. And then we wonder why employees look blank, customers shrug or stakeholders quietly disengage. It echoes something I explored in this piece on how creativity needs space and psychological safety to thrive, because when people are overwhelmed, they don’t push back, they tune out.
The instinct, oddly, is always to add. More context. More qualifiers. More diagrams. More of everything. As if sheer volume might force the audience into understanding. But clarity doesn’t come from quantity. It comes from choices.
Simplifying an idea doesn’t mean dumbing it down. It means distilling it. Reducing the concept to its most meaningful core and deciding the one to three things your audience genuinely needs to understand. Not to patronise them but to respect their attention.
I saw this most clearly when working on a Eurovision tagline. The line DNA to Do-Re-Mi didn’t come from trying to explain strategy, science or sponsorship mechanics. It came from stripping the idea back to its emotional core and trusting the audience to make the connection themselves. The simplification wasn’t about saying less for the sake of it. It was about saying the one thing that could travel instinctively, across languages and cultures, without explanation.
You see this in the best comms and the most enduring creative work. It’s the quiet discipline of reduction. Taking away the decorative, the redundant and the self-indulgent until the real idea stands there on its own.
Simple doesn’t mean simplistic
Two classic examples prove the point. Saatchi & Saatchi’s “Labour Isn’t Working” campaign could have listed a dozen economic stats or policy failures. Instead, it captured a national mood in a single line and image. No jargon. No clutter. Just the truth, sharpened.
French Connection’s FCUK campaigns followed the same logic. The brand could’ve taken the usual route — models, moodboards, attitude‑laden visuals like every other fashion label at the time. Instead, it chose four irreverent letters that said everything. The simplicity wasn’t just part of the strategy. It was the strategy. You didn’t need a playbook. You saw it, you got it, and you either leaned in or looked away which, of course, meant the earned media leapt off the charts.
How complexity creeps in
Ironically, most complexity begins as something simple. A sharp idea, a clear intention, a human truth. Then it passes through teams, reviews, layers, committees. Everyone adds a little something. A nuance here. A pet theory there. A diagram no one dares remove. Soon enough, the idea has lost its edge under the weight of helpful intentions.
The communicator’s job isn’t to add more. It’s to carve it away.
Sharpen the idea. Shape the story.
Start by asking the basics. What’s the point of this? Why does it matter? What should the audience know, feel or do? If your answer fills a slide, you’ve described the idea, not simplified it.
Then look for the shape of the story. Most good explanations follow a natural rhythm. The problem, the insight, the answer, the impact. Not a 40-slide arc. Just a clean journey from curiosity to clarity. People understand stories because stories are how we think.
And choose your language with the same care you apply to the structure. Plain English isn’t childish, it’s humane. Cutting jargon doesn’t mean cutting depth. It makes the message land.
That matters even more now. GenAI has made content production faster than ever, which means the amount of average content in the world is multiplying by the hour. Internal teams are already drowning in AI-written drafts, reports and first-pass strategy decks. The communicator’s job is no longer to keep pace. It’s to slow things down, clarify, refine and to act as the final voice that decides what’s worth saying at all. In a world of frictionless generation, human judgement becomes the filter. Not everything that can be said should be.
Simplify to strengthen
This ties directly to something I explored in this piece about why your audience only remembers one thing. It’s the same discipline, just applied to a different stage of the work. Understanding what truly matters — and letting go of what doesn’t.
The world doesn’t need more complicated content. It needs clearer content. Content that respects the audience, honours the idea and has the confidence to stand without fluff.
Simplify the idea. Strengthen the message. Respect the audience.