Don't speak, I know just what you're sayin'
So please stop explainin'
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
Don't speak, I know what you're thinkin'
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
Songwriters: Eric Stefani / Gwen Stefani
Do you remember the first time you encountered Corporate Speak? Important-sounding buzzwords used to camouflage the fact that what is being said is meaningless. Words that could not, in fact, mean less.
Sometimes, the words mean so little that they actually contribute less than no value, becoming a negative factor to communication, obscuring the truth rather than revealing it. This is their purpose, I suspect.
The first time I recall hearing them was back in the year 2000 when the IT market was still cock-a-hoop from that sweet Y2K revenue and busy trying to convince the world that bricks-and-mortar stores, or what we would call “shops,” were a thing of the past and in the future, everything would be online.
To be fair, we were right; it was just a little early. Most of those early Dot Com efforts, what we called e-commerce back in the day because everything had to have an ‘e’ in front of it, failed miserably. But at that point, the world was our oyster; we were told we had a great opportunity to make the company's owners very wealthy indeed, provided we could “leverage”.
Everything was about “leveraging” back then; it was the “pivot” of its day. I remember sitting in a rah-rah session where they spoke of the momentous opportunities to leverage this, that, and the other. To begin with, I didn’t really understand what they meant. Were we trying to build a pyramid and needing to use leverage to move heavy stones? It seemed unlikely.
People seemed to be saying “leverage” instead of “use”. Why couldn’t they just say that? Were they concerned that people would know what they meant and they wouldn’t be considered special?
It seems that Corporate Speak is a code people use to demonstrate just how willing they are to drink the company's Kool-Aid. It dehumanises those involved by referring to them in ways that hide the fact that we’re talking about people, which, of course, makes it a lot easier to make decisions that hurt them.
It sounds much better to say, “We’re right-sizing our workforce,” than “We’re laying off people just before Christmas, even though we’re making a profit, to maximise exec bonuses.”
If you’re not particularly familiar with Corporate Speak, here is comedian Chris Drabble to demonstrate:
New Zealanders have become very familiar with this corporate cancer on communication since Christopher Luxon was elected Prime Minister.
Remember when half the country said, “This Jacinda with all her kindness and worrying about others. Honestly, she’s like my mum. Bugger that. I’ll elect this guy. He’s just like my boss, who’s always got my interests at heart.” Or something.
It turns out even the Prime Minister thinks he might’ve been laying the ole “Lux-Speak” on a bit thick.
Sometimes, admitting you have a problem is the first step. In his latest interview with RNZ’s Guyon Espiner, the PM acknowledged his use of “Corporate Speak,” having referred to voters as “customers.”
Customers eh? Is that what you feel like, and if so, are you a happy, satisfied one? Or would you, as a customer, like directions to the complaints department to report a faulty purchase?
I’m kidding, of course. Not that Luxon referred to voters as customers; he did that, but about you being one. Let’s be realistic: if you’re reading this newsletter, chances are you didn’t vote for Mr Luxon, so you’re not actually one of his customers. You’re irrelevant to him.
Basically, you’re standing in McDonald's complaining that KFC has cut back to just three secret herbs and spices as a cost-cutting exercise. Or, to put it another way, you might as well be talking to your dog about trickle-down economics for all that Christopher Luxon, the country's leader, cares about your problems.
This is a poor analogy. My dog has no view on trickle-down economics—at least she hasn’t professed one thus far. Simply by knowing nothing at all about the theory of trickle-down, she is actually more well informed than the PM, who extraordinarily and despite all historical evidence seems to think it will work.
Plus, my dog communicates more clearly, albeit within a very tight domain. If you’re enquiring as to whether she would like a sausage, the answer is an unequivocal “yes”, as demonstrated by bouncing up and down enthusiastically. Luxon, on the other hand, would probably be babbling on about low-hanging fruit and getting things in a row and end up with Duck à l'orange and not, in fact, a sausage as desired.
Luxon said his habit of using "Corporate Speak" reflected that he came from outside the political mainstream—not that he was out of touch.
I’m not so sure. His willingness to over-promise and under-deliver to customers might be straight from the corporate world, but I think he’s being overly modest.
To give credit where it’s due, when he comes across as completely out of touch, that seems to be when he is most authentic. That is when he actually shows us who Christopher Luxon is—the man who thinks a week's groceries cost $60, who uses a luxury car to cross the parliament forecourt, and who felt entitled to charge the taxpayer a thousand dollars a week to live in his own mortgage-free apartment.
Guyon pressed Luxon on the fact that a recent poll found 51 per cent of people thought he was "out-of-touch" with most New Zealanders. In response, the PM said:
“Well, I'd just say to you, I think I am, because I'm out and about talking to New Zealanders. I've done that right from when I've come to politics, it's been a belief system of mine ... talk to the customer, to the public, to the people, the voters, and actually find out what their concerns are, and their concerns are being really played back, and we're delivering against those.”
Then he continued:
“I had to learn Parliament very quickly. I'm the fastest person to get from entering politics to being prime minister. But it means that I come with a different set of skills, and it means that I'm also not going to be perfect in my answers. I need to work harder on this corporate speak, but that's who I have been naturally.”
“I'm sure, you know, like, I've made mistakes. I could have expressed myself better, I'm sure,” said the Prime Minister. While there is undoubtedly room for improvement, I’m not sure he’s the right person for the job.
At this point, regarding leadership for Aotearoa, we need to think outside the box. The reason I say that is that a cabinet is a kind of box, and this one is well and truly over-leveraged, both in terms of a surplus of debt and a shortage of talent to do something about it.
I don’t think Christopher will be cutting back on the Lux-Speak any time soon. What’s he going to do - start answering questions?
What do you think? Are there any Luxisms that you particularly like or loathe? Or perhaps any suggestions for where he might like to stick his low-hanging fruit?
A Request.
Times are really tough for Substackers at the moment; each time a depressingly regular un-subscription comes through, I feel a bit ill. My subscriber numbers over the last couple of months make for grim reading, and anecdotally, I suspect I’m not the only writer experiencing this.
So this is a request, and I hate making these. I’d far rather just do the writing and not bother you with the sales stuff. But if you’re enjoying Nick’s Kōrero and can afford to contribute either $8 a month or $85 for a year, that would be greatly appreciated.
I know discretionary spending is the first targeted when times are uncertain, but it’s also the time when we need people speaking up, so if you can spare a couple of bucks a week, it would really help and also mean you’ll avoid the new year price rise.
As mentioned, once you subscribe, the amount you pay will not increase unless it was a discount for a fixed period. On the other hand, if you unsubscribe and re-subscribe later, you’ll do so at the current price. I hope that makes sense; if you have any questions, let me know.
I’m sure I’ve probably included a version of this song before, it’s a pretty big one for we Gen X’ers. Hope you have a good one and take care, all you lovely people. 🙂
I appreciate it's Monday, and I wasn't intending to write today. The truth is I saw a bunch of unsubscriptions come in, and I figured I wasn't going to relax until I tried to do something about it. So, fingers crossed, and I'll probably take a break later in the week. 🙂
I would like to suggest that perhaps your dog does in fact fully fully appreciate the scalable value proposition of trickle-down economics vis-a-vis the strategically significant value of lampposts.