It’s tough to measure ROI on SEO in terms of RMR, IMHO. Did you get that sentence? I wrote it in an email several weeks back to a couple of friends, and both knew that acronyms. That could be scary or a sign of the times we live in.
Whether it’s because of texting or truncating words, the world today is filled with confusing (or clarifying, depending on your perspective) shorter verses of complete words or strings of word. We shorten to simplify (so we think), but often end up confusing others.
Take that opening sentence, which if fully written out would state: “It’s tough to measure Return on Investment on Search Engine Optimization in terms of Recurring Monthly Revenue, In My Humble Opinion. There. Got it?
Most people (I’m thinking anyway) would get that sentence without need to explain the acronyms. But perhaps not. You must presume people understand financial terms, marketing language, have knowledge of recurring revenue and are schooled in the shortening of phrases through texting. So I guess it’s probably more likely most people wouldn’t get that sentence on first glance. Unless they went to Google and checked a couple of the definitions to clarify it.
Many of us go down this path of presuming others get what we’re talking about without ever asking their background or understanding of certain terms. Public speakers (and writers) can be especially bad at this, jumping right into complicated terms and stringing together two or three acronyms in a row that serve to make them sound important and like an expert, when all it does is make the audience or reader want to yawn, take a nap and tune the person out.
Lawyers, engineers, doctors and people working in information technology are extremely adept at pulling confusion off. The mumbo jumbo is often ended with, “Okay, are you with me?” You want to reply, “Of course not, you dufus. I don’t understand 90 percent of what you’re saying.”
But you don’t say that because you’re embarrassed. You’re supposed to understand, so you nod your head with glazed eyes and daydream about blueberry donuts.
It’s easy to poke fun at people who micromanage language. For example, start talking in code to your work manager if you want to impress that person, and see if it gets you a promotion.
“McGillicutty,” you say to your boss, “I’m WTIM the past few weeks. What should I do?”
If McGillicutty gives you some tips on how to stop wasting time in meetings (WTIM), you know you’re on the same plane and you could have a chance to move up the ladder by creating more subroutine, company-specific terms and phrases to impress him with your business acumen and creativity.
On the other hand, if McGillicutty’s eyes glaze over when you say “WTIM,” then you know you’ve lost him and there’s not much hope of connecting. Language at its finest is about building that connection.
Acronyms serve a purpose, particularly in specific industries and fields. Once you get outside that arena though, tread lightly.
Gauge your audience. See if they nod their heads as they pretend to understand what you say, or a hand shoots up and asks, “what’s WTIM mean?” If you get the question, you know they care and are paying attention. That’s something.
Whether it’s because of texting or truncating words, the world today is filled with confusing (or clarifying, depending on your perspective) shorter verses of complete words or strings of word. We shorten to simplify (so we think), but often end up confusing others.
Take that opening sentence, which if fully written out would state: “It’s tough to measure Return on Investment on Search Engine Optimization in terms of Recurring Monthly Revenue, In My Humble Opinion. There. Got it?
Most people (I’m thinking anyway) would get that sentence without need to explain the acronyms. But perhaps not. You must presume people understand financial terms, marketing language, have knowledge of recurring revenue and are schooled in the shortening of phrases through texting. So I guess it’s probably more likely most people wouldn’t get that sentence on first glance. Unless they went to Google and checked a couple of the definitions to clarify it.
Many of us go down this path of presuming others get what we’re talking about without ever asking their background or understanding of certain terms. Public speakers (and writers) can be especially bad at this, jumping right into complicated terms and stringing together two or three acronyms in a row that serve to make them sound important and like an expert, when all it does is make the audience or reader want to yawn, take a nap and tune the person out.
Lawyers, engineers, doctors and people working in information technology are extremely adept at pulling confusion off. The mumbo jumbo is often ended with, “Okay, are you with me?” You want to reply, “Of course not, you dufus. I don’t understand 90 percent of what you’re saying.”
But you don’t say that because you’re embarrassed. You’re supposed to understand, so you nod your head with glazed eyes and daydream about blueberry donuts.
It’s easy to poke fun at people who micromanage language. For example, start talking in code to your work manager if you want to impress that person, and see if it gets you a promotion.
“McGillicutty,” you say to your boss, “I’m WTIM the past few weeks. What should I do?”
If McGillicutty gives you some tips on how to stop wasting time in meetings (WTIM), you know you’re on the same plane and you could have a chance to move up the ladder by creating more subroutine, company-specific terms and phrases to impress him with your business acumen and creativity.
On the other hand, if McGillicutty’s eyes glaze over when you say “WTIM,” then you know you’ve lost him and there’s not much hope of connecting. Language at its finest is about building that connection.
Acronyms serve a purpose, particularly in specific industries and fields. Once you get outside that arena though, tread lightly.
Gauge your audience. See if they nod their heads as they pretend to understand what you say, or a hand shoots up and asks, “what’s WTIM mean?” If you get the question, you know they care and are paying attention. That’s something.
