Fact (‘fun fact’ feels like an overpromise): this piece about audits started with an audit. There I was: assessing the pop-up copy that fashion retail sites use to entice visitors to sign up for their email newsletters. If I’m honest, I dunno what I’m more susceptible to: cheeky, self-aware lines, or having an exclusive deal shouted at me. Sure, artful messaging is nice… but 20% off my first order?! Suddenly I don’t even care if you use an apostrophe to pluralise.
I used to hate audits. But that was back when I took a less philosophical view of them and didn’t fully (or partially, for that matter) appreciate their value. In work and in life, an audit can not only help you understand the world in its current state, but also navigate where you might go next. Or,
to put it in the language of decks: whether it’s a brand voice project or a career move, an audit allows us to make observations and identify opportunities.
Just as the unexamined life leaves much to be desired, so too does the unexamined category. So when you embark on a writing job, start with an audit. If you look sideways at the immediate competitive set, you get a sense of how everyone either differs in messaging and tone or forms one generic glob. If you cast your eye further afield and go beyond the category, you might find something refreshing that you can use (as the old saying goes: “Great ecommerce artists steal their CTA copy”). Themes begin to emerge. As do ideas. Could we be the rhyming retailer? Could we write from the POV of our dresses? The mind boggles…
Right, so why did I hate audits? Who hurt me? Way back when, my approach to audits was pretty shallow and mechanical, so I found them pretty pointless and tedious (I’m sure those on the receiving end felt similarly). I considered them a laborious volume play, culminating in me sharing my collection of screenshots—as opposed to a means of making informed decisions and finding inspo. Unless you charge on a cost-per-screenshot basis, know that clients are paying for access to your mind: they want So Whats, not screenshots. They’re forking out for your interpretation of the material and recommendations on how it can be used to give them an edge.
This can take many forms. You might do a blind, text-only comparison of About Us pages to show that everyone is talking about the same things in the same way. Can your client identify their own copy? If not, you just made a compelling case for voice and messaging work. You might highlight the way in which competitors frame a certain topic, which will get your client thinking about how their brand sees the world e.g. “When it comes to value, Fast Food Brand X speaks playfully about abundance (More burgers for less dough!), whereas Fast Food Brand Y speaks directly about deals (Save $8 on dinner). What’s our take on value?” You might even invite your client to imagine a world in which we borrow from brands that excite us e.g. “This amusing alt milk brand expresses itself with self-awareness and irreverence… would we, a boutique law firm, dare do likewise?”
If all that doesn’t get you salivating, let me finish by sharing the best thing about audits: writers are at an advantage when it comes to doing them because we’re forever noticing. What’s happening here? What stands out? What’s missing? Why is this the case? How could it be different? Questions like these are constantly on our minds, since we love to look closer and are wired to wonder. By simply applying our existing strengths to auditing, we can gain clarity, spark creativity, and enrich the work.
Dan Steiner is not a lobbyist for Big Audit, but he is a Contributing Writer for The Subtext.
Fact (‘fun fact’ feels like an overpromise): this piece about audits started with an audit. There I was: assessing the pop-up copy that fashion retail sites use to entice visitors to sign up for their email newsletters. If I’m honest, I dunno what I’m more susceptible to: cheeky, self-aware lines, or having an exclusive deal shouted at me. Sure, artful messaging is nice… but 20% off my first order?! Suddenly I don’t even care if you use an apostrophe to pluralise.
I used to hate audits. But that was back when I took a less philosophical view of them and didn’t fully (or partially, for that matter) appreciate their value. In work and in life, an audit can not only help you understand the world in its current state, but also navigate where you might go next. Or,
to put it in the language of decks: whether it’s a brand voice project or a career move, an audit allows us to make observations and identify opportunities.
Just as the unexamined life leaves much to be desired, so too does the unexamined category. So when you embark on a writing job, start with an audit. If you look sideways at the immediate competitive set, you get a sense of how everyone either differs in messaging and tone or forms one generic glob. If you cast your eye further afield and go beyond the category, you might find something refreshing that you can use (as the old saying goes: “Great ecommerce artists steal their CTA copy”). Themes begin to emerge. As do ideas. Could we be the rhyming retailer? Could we write from the POV of our dresses? The mind boggles…
Right, so why did I hate audits? Who hurt me? Way back when, my approach to audits was pretty shallow and mechanical, so I found them pretty pointless and tedious (I’m sure those on the receiving end felt similarly). I considered them a laborious volume play, culminating in me sharing my collection of screenshots—as opposed to a means of making informed decisions and finding inspo. Unless you charge on a cost-per-screenshot basis, know that clients are paying for access to your mind: they want So Whats, not screenshots. They’re forking out for your interpretation of the material and recommendations on how it can be used to give them an edge.
This can take many forms. You might do a blind, text-only comparison of About Us pages to show that everyone is talking about the same things in the same way. Can your client identify their own copy? If not, you just made a compelling case for voice and messaging work. You might highlight the way in which competitors frame a certain topic, which will get your client thinking about how their brand sees the world e.g. “When it comes to value, Fast Food Brand X speaks playfully about abundance (More burgers for less dough!), whereas Fast Food Brand Y speaks directly about deals (Save $8 on dinner). What’s our take on value?” You might even invite your client to imagine a world in which we borrow from brands that excite us e.g. “This amusing alt milk brand expresses itself with self-awareness and irreverence… would we, a boutique law firm, dare do likewise?”
If all that doesn’t get you salivating, let me finish by sharing the best thing about audits: writers are at an advantage when it comes to doing them because we’re forever noticing. What’s happening here? What stands out? What’s missing? Why is this the case? How could it be different? Questions like these are constantly on our minds, since we love to look closer and are wired to wonder. By simply applying our existing strengths to auditing, we can gain clarity, spark creativity, and enrich the work.
Dan Steiner is not a lobbyist for Big Audit, but he is a Contributing Writer for The Subtext.
