Please, just say it, we’re in a crisis.?Thanks!!!

Why is public messaging pleading with us in convoluted English, instead of just telling us what we need to do?

By any measure, the British Government’s messaging response to the Covid crisis has been woefully inadequate. The lack of a singular narrative, the constant shifting sands of slogans, three tiers (five tiers north of Carlisle) and different scales of alert. Throw in R numbers and it’s a mess. A dangerous mess. One that’s led to confusion on a grand scale, and for public figures such as Dua Lipa to step in and try to give clarity where confusion reigns.

For how to run such a campaign, we should step back to another time of global crisis and take a look at the messages our government put out then. There was an imperative for clarity and urgency, for the public to see that this information was life-saving and unequivocally in the national interest. 

The most successful of these messages still have resonance and recall today. Dig for victory. Careless talk costs lives. Make do and mend. There is a simplicity and an imperative for the public to act for the common good. OK, ‘Dig for victory’ is rather abstract when taken out of context. But it’s aspirational in the most nationalistic way, and punchy enough to be incredibly memorable. 

Compare this messaging from TFL:

For me, this encapsulates the way that mixed messages have trickled down from the government – two phrases that say the same thing; seven words when three or four would suffice; the use of a word such as ‘maintain’ that doesn't trip off the tongue in everyday conversation. It’s attempting to do the right thing, which is admirable, but what’s wrong with simply “Keep 2 metres apart”?

This sign also demonstrates something I’ve noticed over the past decade or so – the creep of politeness onto the public messaging. So what, you might ask – isn’t that all for the better, for public organisations to be seen to be caring, considerate and courteous, and treat us with respect? I don’t believe that it’s as cut and dried as that.

Let’s reimagine those WW2 messages through this foggy lens of fake politesse and non-conversational English:

Please participate in collective gardening.

Upcycle your old garments rather than buying new, many thanks!

Please be aware that conversations may prove fatal

For the record, I’m a big fan of inter-personal politeness. But I can do without an instructive sign asking me please and telling me thanks, in pretty much the same way that I don’t really need a lunchtime snack informing me of its many heartfelt beliefs the moment I land on its website. I honestly don't believe there are any sensible, busy, well-adjusted people who get offended if an instructional sign doesn't sign off with a jaunty thank you.

At a time such as this, in fact six months ago, the Government should have acted to define an easily understood narrative. The rhetoric has been peppered with opacity and vagueness. Who decided that ‘social distancing’ – a weirdly oxymoronic public health definition of behaviour – should become the definitive phrase to describe the space between us, rather than simply ‘personal space’? After all, this is already common parlance – and nobody likes their personal space being rudely invaded. People getting too close are already colloquially known as ‘space invaders’.

Surely it makes sense to build on what’s widely culturally understood - not to ask people to get to grips with a new concept when they need to act sensibly to save lives?

During a crisis of this scale I’m sure most people just want to be informed what to do to keep themselves and others safe – information they can easily recall and relay to a child or an elderly relative. They don’t really care if a message thanks us or not, as long it communicates with clarity.