In Australia, “diploma” has a precise meaning, one that implies a pretty serious study programme. You wouldn’t embark on an Aussie diploma lightly.

It’s not like that all over the world, however. Internationally, a diploma can be anything from a post-graduate 2-year course of university study to a short, solid professional development qualification, like ours.

Oops, that’s another international terminology trap! “Professional development” in New Zealand applies to all professions, but in some countries is used mostly by the teaching profession.

Our Diploma in Web Content is an integrated bundle of 10 discrete short courses. You can complete the work and pass the tests (hopefully) in about 10 hours; you’re enrolled for 3 months so you can benefit fully.

We use the word “diploma” because:
~ there’s no international agreement on what a diploma should be
~ we need to differentiate between a 10-course diploma and a single 1-hour course.

Get it? Our Diploma is a short, focused, practical study programme that easily fits into the working life of busy professionals. You can do it, starting tomorrow and finishing within 3 months.

Nevertheless, terminology is a real problem, because in Australia the word “diploma” seems like a nonsense for a qualification that takes 3 months. Credibility suffers.

We’re thinking that for Aussie graduates we might provide an alternative version of our hard-copy Diploma, using words that make sense in their work environment. But what phrase should we use?

“Professional Development Diploma”?

We need your advice please!

Photo: (c) Tokyo Institute of Technology in spring.

Communication superpowers. That’s what you need these days.

Whatever your day job, if you’re any kind of knowledge worker, communication skills are essential. Without good writing skills you may not even get the job you want, let alone be promoted. We know that, and yet, strangely, you may never have had five minutes’ training in basic plain language or business writing.

Chances are you’ve got a university degree or an equivalent qualification. You’re top of your game, be it accountant, lawyer, manager, ICT professional, scientist, teacher, company director, designer or business person. The quality of your writing has never been a problem up until now (as far as you know).

OK, fair enough. But now you’re aware that some of the things you write are appearing on web sites or the company intranet. You want them to be found by search engines. You want people to notice them and even read them, darn it! And it’s just not as easy as it was before.

Suddenly, ordinary communication skills are not enough. To be found, noticed and read, you need the Contented communication superpowers.

But how? You don’t have time to spend a whole day at a professional development course! However, you can manage 10 hours over the next three months, no problem.

Buy the CONTENTED Diploma in Web Content — you need it now.

The CONTENTED courses are brilliant, like you, so you’ll get along just fine. As another bonus, this may well qualify as part of the annual training quota which you require to maintain your professional status. Check it out.

Miraz Jordan’s Blog, Knowit.co.nz

So, I arrived in Tonga the same night the Princess Ashika sank. And on Saturday night I watched a press conference where I didn’t understand a word for the first 30-odd minutes. Even so the broadcast was riveting just from the body language.

In three cases I gave my verdict on the speaker’s honesty, and then got to hear them speak in English. In two cases I felt fully justified in my intuitive assessment. With the Minister of Transportation, however, I’m not so sure.

First, a disclaimer. I’m a complete amateur with no expertise in reading body language. In my defence I cite Malcolm Gladwell’s ‘Blink’. Here’s what I saw.

Chaotic communication
First and worst was the Hon. ‘Eseta Fusitu’a, Minister of — what? With delicious irony, it transpired she was Minister of Communication. She’s a middle aged woman with an air of authority. Most of the time her face was chaotic. The top half showed (I thought) panic and fear. But the bottom half frequently smiled ingratiatingly. Sometimes the whole face smiled as if to win us over. She was selling us a line. I did not like this picture: right or wrong, I thought this was what she was saying:

“Everything’s just fine and everything is normal. Help, help! I’m a really important person. Help, help! What’s a few score drowned people between friends? Help, help! And if something bad happened, it’s certainly not my fault, so don’t blame me. Help, help! I must talk fast or someone might notice I’ve messed up. Help, help! We’re in deep trouble here — I don’t want to lose my job!”

Later, the Hon. ‘Eseta Fusitu’a spoke in English, answering a question from a New Zealand journalist. As best I can remember, this is essentially what she said.

” Every country has disasters. The US had the Los Angeles earthquake, China has just had a typhoon, and now after many, many years of no disasters Tonga has had its own disaster.”

(So?)

“Unlike the riots three years ago, this is a natural disaster. This is not a man-made disaster, it is a natural disaster.”

(She is so certain, and yet few seem to believe her. Let’s wait for the investigation, which has not even begun…)

“I want to note how well everyone has pulled together on this: the Government, the Police, the shipping company and the community. You have to appreciate the Tongan culture. Tongan people all help each other in times of trouble. In the village, the survivors were immediately given blankets and food. In this case it was the government and the church that helped. That is normal, that is Tonga.”

(Again, should we applaud?)

It seemed to me that her words were entirely congruent with the incongruous mixed signals sent by her body.

Enigmatic communication
Case 2: The Hon. Paul Karulus, Minister of Transportation, spoke directly and with every appearance of sincerity. At the start and end of each speech he looked down, which seemed to emphasise the seriousness of his words. I was inclined to trust him.

Eventually he answered a few questions in English. He said the Princess Ashika had been checked thoroughly twice and passed each assessment. Repairs were made after purchase, which would be normal procedure. (Hm. Really?) There would be a thorough, impartial investigation headed by an experienced New Zealander. If individuals or organisations were at fault, they would face charges, including, if necessary, criminal charges. The vessel was fully insured and so were the lives of those on board.

The Hon. Paul Karulus’ body language passed the test of credibility and so did the words. However, rumours abound about the purchase of this vessel. Today I heard the rumours repeated by the Reverend Dan Dango (Sp.?) who gave us a lift into town: he said the boat was a sieve, leaking before it left the wharf, and the dealers were villains.

So in this case my intuition is not entirely to be trusted. My hunch: here’s a good guy stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Great communication in a crisis
Third case: my hero, Police Commander Chris Kelley. He’s a New Zealander in charge of the Tongan police, and heading the search and rescue operation. His delivery was steady, authoritative, considered… and sad. He listened carefully to questions and answered them all in full.

Chris Kelley spoke in paragraphs. In other words, when he had finished one topic, he paused noticeably. This gave us time to absorb what he’d said, and signalled a change of topic. The pause was the aural equivalent of a paragraph break in web content. It gave me confidence that he was in control of the structure of his message as well as the facts. (Clearly, his delivery was in marked contrast to the chaotic gabble from the Minister of Communications.)

Chris Kelley emphasised that his focus was on the people: searching for survivors, finding the dead, and determining who was actually on board as opposed to those who were listed in the manifest. He was honest about the chances of recovering bodies, let alone survivors. The location and depth of the ship, the extensive area where it might have sunk, and the time since it sank, all made this unlikely, he said.

Communication is more than skin deep. The Commander inspired confidence.

Like I said, when it comes to communication in a crisis — my hero.

Don’t sue me.

PS I only wish I knew how to spell my hero’s name correctly. Kelley or Kelly? the Tongan English language paper uses both spellings in a single article. So does Stuff:
http://www.stuff.co.nz/world/south-pacific/2735821/Weather-hampers-Tongan-ferry-search
Sorry, no active link provided: I’ve lost the facility temporarily with a WordPress upgrade.

New Zealand has been lagging behind other countries with a certification programme for ICT professionals. By the same token, joining late means we can be sure to sync with other countries so that the NZ qualification will be recognised internationally.

Here’s the context:

Accountants have “Chartered Accountant” certification, lawyers and doctors are accredited by their professional bodies. Engineers have Certification. Yet until now, ICT professionals have not had access to professional certification, in New Zealand at least.

Now it’s coming at us more like a train than a committee. Action:

One area of interest will be the Fast-track Process, where it’s proposed that all full NZCS members, MNZCS and above (as at the launch date of the programme) will have the opportunity to be considered for rapid adoption. Members will still need to show they meet the requirements and standards, however the process will be streamlined (and at a reduced cost).

To find out more, visit www.nzcs.org.nz/certification

Recently I trawled through the SFIA framework and checked that web editors do have their place among ICT professionals. When the draft plan appears next month, my beady eyes will be busy for the same reason. Don’t leave web content editors out! Imagine getting credit for your knowledge, experience and professional nous. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

Image: Trust Me, (c) Tracey Emin, UBS Art Collection.

Gretchen Enger wrote to me:

I stumbled across your site today. Great articles, BTW. I have a few content questions that I hope you can answer:

Are there best practices for when to expire content?
When content should be removed from a site?
How do you know the value of outdated site content?

Gretchen Enger

Hi Gretchen

Very interesting questions: no easy answer. (You guessed.)

• It depends on the topic – WordPress? Abraham Lincoln? writing sonnets? language usage? camera reviews?
• It depends on the type of web site – .com? education? intranet? government? encyclopaedia?
• It depends on the type of article – news? promotion? general knowledge? inhouse memo? blog post?
• It depends on the purpose – marketing? archiving? adding to your mailing list?

For example, I’m not sure whether you found me through my old QWC.co.nz or the 1-year-old Contented.com. QWC continues to attract readers, so it has value, despite the fact that Google prefers fresh meat. I don’t know the dollar value, but purchasers often find the new site through the old, content-rich QWC site. As long as articles aren’t out of date, I leave them online. (I usually sieve them every six months or so.) The value in credibility is more than the cost of maintaining the site.

That’s why I love blogs, where everyone *knows* each posting is thought-of-the-day and will go out of date. Plus it’s a searchable database, so everything is already archived and dated. That’s why I don’t add to the QWC.co.nz articles, just delete from time to time.

If articles go out of date, you can link to newer ideas.

So looking at each site case-by-case, you need a policy. A few wild, impulsive starting points:

• News: off the news page in 2 days, then archive
• Tips: leave as long as they are valid: check monthly
• General knowledge and feature articles: leave as long as they are valid: check 6- monthly
• Product-associated articles: check frequently, change or shift with change of product
• Blog: leave forever, yay!
• Columns: treat like a blog

The Plain English Awards ceremony 2008 last Thursday celebrated heroes of plain English in New Zealand. Four categories are for web sites, and web content is a big factor in other categories too.

The United States Embassy in Wellington was a clear winner of the Brainstrain award for the worst web site: People’s Choice. For this category, members of the public nominate the worst web sites, and the judges pick a winner.

With all finalists in the Brainstrain web site award, the nominator was enraged by a single factor – so enraged that they entered the site for this dreaded award. In fact, the other two finalists were good web sites apart from one frustrating problem. That’s a sobering thought, isn’t it?

On the Embassy site the offending page was about fiancé(e) visas. Here’s an example of its impenetrable prose:

To apply for K-1 visa classification for an intended alien spouse, an American citizen must file a petition, Form I-129F, with the USCIS Regional Service Center having jurisdiction over the place of the petitioner’s residence in the United States. Such petitions can not be adjudicated abroad.

But the entire Embassy web site is a worthy winner, being absolutely riddled with problems. Take a look at the site and this is what you’ll see.

1. Ugliness.
2. Links to news pages on the same site open in new window: annoying and unconventional.
3. Ambassador bio starts with 168-word paragraph: overwhelming and unread on a web site.
4. Underlining of non-link phrases.
5. Breadcrumbs don’t always match the page: many apparent home pages.
6. Making Of U.S. Foreign Policy page consists of Introduction, circuitous structure, no other subheadlines.
7. “The content has moved. It can now be found here.”
8. Justified text.
9. Long pages with no subheadings.
10. Inconsistent design and navigation.
11. Menu items that would open but not close.
12. Too-small font making links almost invisible.

I mustn’t waste my whole day here. But here’s another small example of incompetent, hostile, negative web content. Believe it or not, the final word in the following quote, “this”, is a link.

Failure to turn in your I-94 (or I-94W) when you leave the U.S. could create serious problems for you when traveling to the U.S. in the future. For information on how to rectify this, please read this.

The amateurish design and writing on the US Embassy site gives a strong impression that they couldn’t care less about their readers. This is the non-verbal message I get: We’re frightfully big and important. You aren’t. So why don’t you Kiwis just go away and stop bothering us?

By the way, the official judges’ comments are much more polite than my intemperate ranting, which is strictly personal. We just stated that confusing government-speak gave its website an unfriendly and impersonal tone.

The Brainstrain prize is a rubbish bin full of sour worms. The judges are not competing for the honour of delivering these to the Embassy. However, in the best scenario, the winners say, Fair cop. We will fix this problem and do better in future.

Now, on a brighter note…

New Zealand Trade and Enterprise (NZTE) won the premier award of $10,000 for outstanding progress in creating a plain English culture within the organisation. That’s no mean feat with 1000 employees scattered around the world. As WriteMark leader Lynda Harris said, “We deliberately make this award extremely hard to win.”

See all winners and finalists on the WriteMark web site.

Prime News: First at 5.30: only on Sunday 14 September see the Plain English Awards video coverage. Starts around 6.26 mins.

Jane McConnell comments (March 06, 2008) on a deeply embarrassing feature of corporate communications. Lately she has been hearing about a rise in unwanted internal emails. Anecdotal, but JMC is an astute trend-spotter. She says:

‘a few months ago, it was an IT person who told me that the number of “deleted without being read emails” from corporate communications to employees was in the high 80-90%. A figure like this should make people stop and think about what their “all” email policies are.’

This tip was sent to our Contented Newsletter subscribers recently.

Sometimes web managers of public service web sites are forced to retain a web page that would be better deleted or placed on the intranet.

Our Mission and Our Values may need to be displayed online for political or legal reasons.

There’s an obvious problem: mission statements and values are written to inspire and steer the staff and managers — not the public. All too often they come across as stifling bureaucratese or nauseating self-delusion. And after any unfortunate experience with the local body, Yeah, right! is the cynical response from the public.

What to do? You are not allowed to rewrite the statements: they are set in stone. Here’s one kind of solution. For once, instead of making a page shorter you could make it longer, and say something worth saying. Think about who will read it, and how they and you might benefit. An example of a “good save” follows.

Mission and values of Sprungfield City Council
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
As a resident of Sprungfield, you have a right to know the values your Council holds. After all, you are both our customer and (if a ratepayer) our employer. We try to ensure every Council employee, from the CEO to our frontline staff, lives up to these values in their service to the public. Sometimes we appreciate a little reminder!

The values we try to live up to
We welcome change and encourage initiative.
We respect people.
We co-operate with others.
We work hard.
We enjoy work and our working relationships.

The mission statement we have on our wall
Sprungfield City is a green, vibrant, education-centred city that is safe and friendly for residents and visitors.

The mission statement is a goal shared by everyone on your Council. But it’s not our idea: it’s yours! It summarises the main opinions expressed when we consulted Sprungfield residents about our city’s future. When we see this statement, it inspires us and reminds us of what you want.

The mission statement is phrased as if it were already true. That’s to keep us feeling positive, helping us to believe our mission is achievable. And hey, we are well on the way.

Subscribe to our newsletter for occasional tips by email

Cartoon from Savagechickens.com — take one daily for your mental health

Is this cool or what? The very first award won by Contented online courses on writing for the web. Our very own TUANZ Innovations award (2007) in the category Education: General.

Vital statistics: 32cm high, 3 or 4kg.

Date: 6 years after predicted in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Such trivia notwithstanding, our black marble obelisk is, no doubt, the mysterious source of all future knowledge and development and human evolution on the planet Earth. That’s how we see it.

Or as Alice said when accepting the award much more modestly, this reassures us that we are on the right track.
Thank you, TUANZ!

Jakob Nielsen reveals something he would rather people didn’t know, in the interests of truth. A fact’s a fact, and ultimately there are no secrets in usability testing.

Nielsen confirms for the umpteenth time that people ignore anything that looks like an ad, whether they’re just skim-reading or studying web content in depth. Three heatmaps of readers’ eye movements demonstrate this inexorable fact yet again on Alertbox entry Banner Blindness: Old and New Findings.

Want to know which design elements do attract attention, even if they are banner ads? The first three we knew about. The last one was also common knowledge among Google AdSense users, actually. It breaks the basic ethical standard of making ads look completely different from the body of a web page.

The 4 exceptions to banner blindness are:

• Plain text. (Hence my mission. Hence my entire career?)
• Faces. (But not if they look like models.)
• Cleavage and other “private” body parts. (Even of animals!)
• Ad that looks like part of the web page in design. (Straying into murky ethical territory.)

Banner blindness, old and new findings

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