In our humble...

Fiona Thompson

I love my Griffin iTalk. It’s a mini voice recorder that plugs into the top of my iPod and makes it a doddle to record interviews, conversations and Important Thoughts.

Jamie Jauncey

I discovered (by accident) that the humble and ubiquitous Nokia 6300 synchronises with Microsoft Outlook. Now, at last, I have a portable and constantly up-to-date diary again, having dispensed with the hand-written variety many years ago in favour of an on-screen version.

Heather Atchison

I suppose I benefit as a writer from the joy I take in writing on my PowerBook. It looks good, feels good and is a charm to use. It’s the 21st-century equivalent of a gorgeous fountain pen. And I never get distracted by little annoyances, like I frequently do on a PC. (Or maybe I’m just biased.)

Sarah McCartney

I’ve been using Dragon Naturally Speaking voice recognition software for about three months. I injured my neck doing too much writing and this has helped a load. You have to teach it to recognise your voice but that doesn’t take long. Occasionally it goes bonkers* and I’m not sure I’d use it in a crowded office, but I’m delighted with it. *I wrote “relaxing ylang ylang oil is said to promote feelings of joy”. It wrote “relaxing ylang ylang oil is said to promote feelings of Geordie”.

Tom Lynham

I don’t have an i-Phone, a Blackberry, a Tom Tom satnav (despite cool name), a Bluetooth, an Xbox or even a Wii console, but my PowerBook has become a kind of alter ego. It’s gradually morphing into me (or the other way round), and like me, sinks into occasional sulks, conks out for no apparent reason, needs constant TLC, but bursts into life every morning ready for another day’s work. However, the really astonishing technology that encapsulates human ingenuity - is the book. Invented over 700 years ago, it has never been improved upon. It requires no power, no LCDs, no USBs, no FireWires or firewalls, no maintenance at all, and you don’t even have to scan it through airport security. No need to constantly update the software either, but every time you come back to it you return a little wiser and a bit more clued-up so I guess that’s the equivalent. No matter how badly you abuse it, deface it, rubbish it, abandon it, forget it, or skip bits of it, it’s always there for you with an unconditional love.

Rishi Dastidar

My Smythson notebook, which is almost as expensive an indulgence as something with an integrated circuit in it, fits in any pocket or bag and hasn't yet broken down.

John Simmons

I've got an English degree and never regretted it. Not because it's given me particular skills that have been useful as a business writer but because it gave me three years reading the works of great writers. Having said that, I have found some of those writers - Shakespeare, Milton, dickens - still influencing what I write, sometimes in unexpected ways. But other degrees, other interests, influence people too and help shape what kind of writer you'll be. The main thing is to keep your mind open to as many different sources of inspiration as possible, new and old. Three years at university is useful but you need to keep learning every day.

Rishi Dastidar

I dunno; I did modern history for my sins.

Jim Davies, totalcontent

For me, an English degree didn’t help particularly in getting a job. A more practical post-grad publishing course at the LCP (now LCC), did the trick. But three years reading and dissecting all the greats undoubtedly filters down into your own writing at a subconscious level. Which makes you a better writer, which helps you in your career. So long term, you undoubtedly reap the benefits. I just wish I had so much time for reading these days.

Sarah McCartney

I’ve no idea. I have a degree in Maths and Anthropology and another one in Marketing and Corporate Strategy. Best ask someone who’s got one in English and they can tell you if it’s ever come in handy. I learned to write by practising. I got better and faster as I went along. At least, I think I did. On the other hand, both my degrees are technically English as I studied for both of them in England. (I suspect that isn’t what you meant.)

Nick Asbury

It’s certainly not essential. Nor is any degree. The ideal career path for any copywriter would be to drop out of university, get a job as a chef in Paris, sell cookers door-to-door, join the British Intelligence Service, then become an Amish farmer in Pennsylvania. But then that probably only works if you’re David Ogilvy.

Ben Afia

You don’t need an English degree for a career in business writing – mine’s in archaeology, usefully. In fact you don’t need a degree at all. But you do need to have to have the rules ticking away in the background and a good feel for how language influences people. I’ve found that the best writers have had interesting careers. People who‘ve worked in different jobs, in unusual places often have an unconventional take on the world and that inspires fresh writing. Having said that, English would help me to describe the rules to clients when they ask. And I do rely on the English grads in my team when anything knotty comes up.

Fiona Thompson

I’d start by making friends with project managers in design companies, as they all seem to know each other, and will pass your name on if you do a good job for them. They’ll also take you with them when they move on to new companies. Think about how you’re going to market yourself. For example: - Word-of-mouth publicity is always best, so you could offer a reward to any friends or contacts who get you more work. - Write some intriguing copy on a postcard that establishes your style and will attract potential clients. Tom Rigby of 26 did this very effectively with a postcard that featured the Douglas Adams quote about loving the sound of deadlines whooshing by, and invited clients in a similar predicament to contact him. - Set up a website. Keep it up to date. Send out a regular newsletter to clients and potential clients (get their permission before you add them to the list) and fill it with interesting stuff related to copywriting, your recent work and new articles they can read on your site. Trust your instincts. Do the networking thing, but ask yourself ‘How can I help this person?’ rather than ‘What can they do for me?’. Work with people you like and who appreciate what you do.

Tom Lynham

The world is chronically short of good writers who think creatively and help organisations to communicate more adventurously. Get as broad a grounding as you can. Work in different industries, different countries, different cultures. Decide who you want to work with, how much you want to get paid, and what kind of life you want to live. Find a sympathetic mentor. There are many experienced writers around who would be only too happy to look over your shoulder, help steer your career, and introduce you to clients. And finally, practise, practise, practise…

Jim Davies

Don’t talk about writing. Just do it.

Rishi Dastidar

I’m always chary of giving any form of careers advice, as I only lucked into ‘writing’ full time a year or so ago. That said, I think doing these things help: 1. Read more. Reading is your fuel; it provides you with the tools you need to be a good and successful writer. It doesn’t really particularly matter what you read. But considering that you’ll most likely need to turn your hand to writing about almost any subject under the sun, it helps to be reasonably well informed about the world and its wonders. 2. Write more. Runners get better by running more. Writers get better by writing more. Really, they do. So take any opportunity you can. And if you can’t find any, make your own. A blog isn’t just a space to pontificate – it’s a chance to hone your skills, your craft, your voice(s). 3. Be persistent. Very, very few people fall into writing what they want first off. If you do, great. If not, don’t stop trying. 4. Join 26. And no, I’m not just saying that because I have to. It a) shows a degree of commitment to your chosen career; b) gives you the chance to meet and pick the brains of some of the best copywriters in the country; and c) is jolly handy to mention in interviews.

Nick Asbury

Alexei Sayle once said that, whenever young comedians asked him for advice, he would size them up first and work out if they were any good. If so, he’d tell them they were useless and to pack it in immediately – he didn’t want the competition. In that same spirit, I’d advise asking yourself three questions: 1. Do you have a natural, easy way with language? (Which is usually nothing to do with having an English degree and more to do with whether you can write a good email or tell a good joke.) 2. Do you have the nuts-and-bolts grammatical knowledge to back it up? (Knowing your apostrophes won’t make you a good copywriter, but not knowing them will make you a bad one.) 3. Are you happy turning your talents to any number of exciting and not-so-exciting uses? (No matter how successful you get, you’ll still find yourself writing instructions for vacuum cleaners at some point.) If you can say yes to all the above, then on no account become a copywriter. You’ll be useless.

Martin Lee

I wouldn’t wish to put off any graduate who was hell bent on becoming a copywriter, but to anyone that was unsure, my first piece of advice would be “go and do something else for a decade, and then see how you feel.” My second piece of advice would be to feel free to ignore all my advice.

John Simmons

Write as much as you can. Read as much as you can. Meet as many people as you can.

Tim Rich

Great business writing requires insight and intelligence as well as the ability to craft words. It starts with thinking, it calls upon personal experience, and it demands you can write in all sorts of ways for all sorts of people. So go out and experience life and business before concentrating on copywriting. Don't go freelance too early and never stay in a permanent in-house writer job for more than a few years, until you're 30 anyway (ancient, I know, but one day even you you might be that old). Work for very big and very small businesses. Spend some time working on the other side, in the media. Learn about editorial processes from great editors, learn about business from great business people, learn about marketing and PR from great marketing and PR people. Understand how TV gets made - it will have an enormous effect on business communications over the next 10 years. Make friends with designers, learn how they work and understand how writing and design can lock together to create meaning. Ask (stupid) questions all the time. Travel. Hang around organisations like the Institute of Directors and listen to what makes business people tick. Sharpen your understanding of economics, politics and society by going to events like the http://www.battleofideas.org.uk or reading beyond the mainstream press - http://www.prospect-magazine.co.uk, http://www.standpointmag.co.uk, http://www.spiked-online.com. Most of all, write write write. And when you're exhausted by that, read read read.

Roger Horberry

There are plenty of sh*tty jobs out there; copywriting isn't one of them. So read everything you can, work like hell and don't be afraid to take a less than perfect job as a stepping stone to greater things. Persistence pays.

Roger Horberry, Alp Associates

No. In fact I think you'd be hard pressed to say if something was a good idea if it was genuinely poorly expressed.

John Simmons

In 1997 we all forgave some awful writing. It seemed that it was enough, after 18 years of Old Tories, for New Labour to say 'new' in every sentence. Times change, and now it seems we look for a different variety of new. But the best political campaign language is still coming from the US presidential contest.

Rishi Dastidar

How can it be a great campaign if it's badly written?

Jim Davies, totalcontent

Think of it this way. If the Economist ran a poster with an apostrophe in the wrong place or a glaring typo, its credibility would be destroyed in a single stoke.

Tom Lynham

Not really, but the truly great campaigns are a perfect melt of creative and words. Design consultancies can learn from advertising partnerships. Many I work with still relegate the writer to a service or resource that is bought in half way through the job, instead of an essential ingredient in helping to shape big ideas upfront.

James Hogwood

Could I forgive a great campaign idea if it was bady written? No, surely that's the worse kind - a great idea wasted in its execution. One advertising campaign that's consistently on my nerves (probably because it's essentially a words-based campaign) is Maestro debit cards. The wheels are coming off with their latest stuff, but the first wave of 48-sheets, adshels and so on had some great wordplay in it. The big idea running through it is about how cash is finished, redundant, dead. The problem? The strap/end/positioning line (call it what you will): "The new cash". If only they could sign off with something as verbally dexterous as their headlines. And doesn't it mean that Maestro cards are next in line for extinction?

Heather Atchison

Even if they were paying me handsomely, I wouldn't work for Kerry Foods. They produce brands like Cheestrings, Wall's and Porkinson Bangers. I find it hard to stomach their approach to food (sorry) - from what they put in their products to how they're made. But goodness me, they could use a good writer. Here are a few choice words from their website: "Through its unique understanding of end use applications, aided by state of the art sensory evaluation and Kerry's systems approach to opportunities, the division derives maximum synergies from its core technologies – creating value for customers by way of new products, product improvements, cost reductions or process development."

Roger Horberry, Alp Associates

I'm hopelessly promiscuous when it comes to cold, hard cash, but I'm definitely not at home to political parties, religious organisations and the Klu Klux Klan.

Neil Taylor, The Writer

Boris Johnson. That anyone is foolhardy enough to consider entrusting anything bigger than a church fete to the man is enough to make me give up writing and become a professional canvasser. Which I really don’t want to be.

Tom Lynham

I hit ethical problems concerning environmental groups I work with: Should we vilify and excommunicate governments and businesses destroying the environment, or work with them to change attitudes and fund projects? Looking at the question from a slightly different point of view, in developing communications strategies with a human rights group, do we blame and shame the punters who use trafficked women? Or do we try to educate them? The solution to every problem ends up with a conversation around a table, and the earlier you establish consensual dialogue, the better your chances of success.

Tim Rich

Arsenal.

Mike Reed, Reed Words

BAE Systems. I did some work for them years ago, when they were British Aerospace. The work was innocent enough in itself, I just couldn't shake off the fact that, as well as civilian jets, they were also associated with selling weapons and security products to what I consider to be less than wholesome regimes. The recent Al-Yamamah nastiness with the Saudis just makes the whole brand even yukkier for me. There's not enough tea in China, and so forth.

Jim Davies, totalcontent

The Daily Mail and Bernard Matthews.

Martin Lee, Acacia Avenue

There’s definitely a hole in the awards market for another niche prize. I’m thinking of the ‘2008 Fascinating Proposal for an Unfinished Manuscript Written by Martin Lee Award’. The size of the prize would be sufficient to allow for enough time to craft a winning entry for the 2009 award. Is it really too much to ask?

Roger Horberry, Alp Associates

Writing awards – essential if I've won one, irrelevant if I haven't.

Jim Davies, totalcontent

In our line of writing, there’s only the one award (D&AD Writing For Design) and that’s rather flawed. It was long overdue, and while at least it represents some recognition for the contribution writers make to a piece of design, it’s turned out to be a bit of a damp squib. For starters, it attracts very few entries compared to the other very well-represented categories at D&AD. I was on the judging panel one year, and was disappointed by what was laid before us compared to all the great stuff I knew was out there in the big wide world. Then there’s the question of how you measure, say, a Christmas card or a poster against a 200-page annual report. And finally, whether you can actually judge writing when you don’t have time to read it properly. Even with so little entered, with some of the longer pieces, you could only hope to get a flavour of the quality of writing in the allocated time. So, I’m delighted that D&AD Writing For Design exists, and I’d like to see others (Creative Review, Design Week) join the fray. But I think it needs to be promoted more vociferously, and the judging system needs looking at – perhaps by introducing short-listing like in the literary awards – so that there’s more reading and debating time built in.

John Simmons

Awards are great to win but only a few people can win. Which means those who don't win feel unjustly overlooked. But they're good in drawing attention and stimulating debate about the subject. I've always liked the Booker for that reason - it means that we focus once a year at least on new novels.

Rishi Dastidar

If all shall have prizes, how come I haven't had mine yet?

Richard Owsley, Bristol

Thanks to the internet, yesterday I worked in Australia, today it's Paris and tomorrow it's Newbury. Yesterday I went to my daughter's school parents' evening in Bristol and tonight I'll take my son to football training in Bristol. So modern technology works for me. More importantly it works for the clients, who can choose the most appropriate writer regardless of location. The only place it sometimes breaks down is the agency in the middle – who seem to think the only qualities needed in a writer are to be available tomorrow and to live round the corner.

Andrew Arnold, Copenhagen

Swapping London for Copenhagen was a great move for me. Big cities have never been my ideal place to live and the idea of a European capital city that wasn't too big was very attractive. Danish companies are very international so there's a fair supply of writing work, copyediting or translation to English. IT is well advanced and I can send press releases out or chat to journalists on the other side of the world at next to no cost. The creative climate is good and there's a great deal of focus on communications as a discipline, so there are fewer of the squabbles between PR, marketing and advertising as to who is the most impotent (sorry, important). Danes are disciplined workers and don't waste time, which means there's more time for families.

Jim Davies, Warwickshire

‘Locationism’ is a thing of the past. I moved out of London to leafy Warwickshire a few years ago when we started having a family – despite my pre-move concerns, the change of address doesn’t seem to have made much difference to the amount or quality of work coming in. I take the train into London a couple of times a week to pick up briefs, and everything else is done by phone, email and PDFs. If you’re starting out, London is the only place to be, but with a reasonable client base and a MacBook Air, you could happily ply your trade from the Moon.

Roger Horberry, York

As someone who has freelanced in Yorkshire for the last five years I can confirm London spanks the north in terms of both quality and quantity of work. There are honorable exceptions (Elmwood in Leeds, Like A River in Manchester and theWorkshop (sic) in Sheffield for example), but without the East Coast Mainline I'd be stuffed. Sorry, but that's my experience.

Simon Caulkin, The Observer

‘Reach out’, ‘solutions’ (aaargh), nouns as verbs, eg ‘to transition’ (I’ve even heard ‘solutioning), ‘prior to’ (why not ‘before’?) and almost anything with ‘delight’ in it.

Lu Hersey

‘Driving’ and ‘delivering’. They never involve cars or flowers in my experience.

Martin Lee, Acacia Avenue

OK, I’m going to commit heresy here and confess to a slight nostalgia for some of the ludicrous business jargon of the 80s. A few gems from that derided lexicon: ‘Helicoptering’ – hovering over a problem to try and find a solution from on high. ‘Run it up the flagpole and see if it flutters’ – equates to hesitant creativity. ‘Win win square’ – rarely anything of the sort. Of late, I have to say I’ve noticed a particular phrase creeping in to meeting arrangements – ‘Hard stop’, as in “I’ve got a hard stop at 4pm”. Usually a doomed attempt to bring a note of finality to a meeting right at the outset. It’s amazing how elastic the hard stop turns out to be.... What else have we got? Ah yes: ‘Push back’ – a polite way of saying “You’re talking complete bollocks”, but expressed as “I’d just like to push back on that last point”.

Tamara O'Brien

I think there’s a kind of verbal karma, or word-creep, which means that any word or phrase you single out for ridicule you will eventually end up using. One minute it’s laughable corporatese, the next it seems perfectly reasonable. It happened to me recently with ‘going forward’. So far I’ve avoided ‘seeking to’ do something, but can’t guarantee I’ll hold out…

Neil Taylor, The Writer

I'd like to speak up for nouns turning into verbs (and vice versa)! It's been happening for hundreds of years. And when people go on about English being destined for greatness because of how flexible it is, it's because we can do stuff like that. Innit.

Margaret Oscar

The word ‘execution’. Apparently, a good ‘execution’ is something to be proud of in the marketing world. But it's a word that's actually used to avoid the lengthy praise of good work. I'd rather hear the lengthy praise!

Heather Atchison

I can’t bear it when people try to big themselves up by using what they think are ‘posh’ words instead of straightforward ones (all too common in customer service). I mean things like using the verb ‘advise’ instead of tell or say – or saying ‘whereby’ when they really mean ‘where’ or ‘when’ – or the ever-so-common misuse of ‘myself’ when it should be ‘me’. And the word ‘outputs’ makes my skin crawl.

Mike Reed, Reed Words

A few years ago I encountered a ‘Brand Temple’, in which columns of values built on a foundation of vision supported a roof of personality. Or something. I can't remember the details, except that it was linked to the idea that employees were ‘Knights Exemplar’. I keep thinking I must have dreamt this, but I'm sure I've still got the diagram somewhere. I think the whole thing lies in ruins now, anyway.

John Simmons

Just in from a meeting with a client who said “I've got a hard stop at the end of March”. That's when he's redundant. He also introduced a new Brand blah-blah to my bulging lexicon of such terms. As well as a brand triangle and brand pyramid, there is now a Brand Parthenon... perhaps meaning it's ancient, difficult to get to and there’s absolutely nothing inside it.

Ben Afia, Afia

I love a good ‘challenge’. Usually in a sentence like ‘Could I just challenge you on that?’, delivered by someone really pushy but been on an effective communications course and thinks it’s subtle. Then there’s the wonderful ‘engage’ (have we mentioned that already?). ‘I’ve engaged internal communications’, to which I replied ‘did they enjoy being engaged’. Marvellous.

Tom Lynham

I fart in the bath, you fart in the bath, this is my business, this is your business, can we have a meeting of minds.

Jim Davies, totalcontent

It used to be the hugely vacuous ‘stunning’, applied lazily to anything from a movie to a book to business performance. Whack on the head anyone? Now it’s the ubiquitous ‘passion’ – everyone’s apparently out of control and ripping their bodices, whether they’re making wing nuts or creating a brand experience for you. But number one with a bullet is ‘journey’, as in ‘The past 12 months have been a momentous journey for the board of directors…’ It’s enough to make me pack my bags.

Ken Munn

"In order to". In most uses, two of the three words can be omitted.

Roger Horberry, Alp Associates

As my chapter in 'The Bard & Co' attempts to explain, these little fellas are often sorely misunderstood and gain currency precisely because they work so well. Plus many of us use them (in speech if not in print) rather more than we'd like to admit. Let he who is without sin...

Stein Olsen

The word that immediately springs to mind is 'innovative', followed closely by 'solutions', but I'm guessing that's going to get a hammering by most. Once, the word 'innovation' was the camping ground for magnificent achievements like the wheel or electricity. Now it's seen flying on corporate standards across the world. Type the word into a browser and marvel at the freak show (146,000,000 results found). Innovative Bowling Products Corporation, I ask you. Innovation should have it's dictionary definition changed to – see mundane.

Martin Lee, Acacia Avenue

To me, punctuation marks are like extra letters of the alphabet, simply there to help a writer make their meaning clear. They are normally missing in public signs, so that you end up with unintentionally comic ambiguity, such as “Slow police” instead of “Slow. Police.” Hmmm, maybe I’ve just talked myself out of punctuation…

John Simmons

I love. Full stops changing. The meaning of a sentence. Commas can do just as nicely given a, chance...

Mike Reed, Reed Words

The question doesn't make much sense as 'Punctuation a writers best friend or creative straightjacket', and I think that's the point. Punctuation aids meaning. I get a frightening amount of what you might call Joycean emails from clients who seem to drop all punctuation as soon as they see a keyboard. These messages take repeated, careful reading to decipher, and even then I often have to ring up and clarify. I have no idea why anyone - except for specific stylistic effect - would want to ditch these friendly little marks. They're only trying to help.

Nick Asbury

I wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s my best friend – punctuation has never bought me a round, for one thing. But it’s undoubtedly a good thing. The writer’s job is to help clients project a professional image and get their message across. Bad punctuation distracts from the message and makes you look shoddy. On the other hand, it is annoying when people pull you up on silly things. Splitting an infinitive is fine if the alternative sounds clumsy. And starting a sentence with ‘And’ is OK – always has been. Although admittedly it can look out of place in certain contexts. (Starting a sentence with ‘Although’ is OK too, I reckon.)

Jim Davies, totalcontent

I don’t think of punctuation as a Truss. In fact, it allows you to shape your words more precisely, to create subtle accents and nuances – precision or ambiguity.

Rishi Dastidar

Punctuation a straitjacket? Only if you're already on the way to being locked up. If we didn't have rules, then there wouldn't be any fun in breaking them. Plus a well-judged semi-colon; well, it has the power to break your heart, non? If your words arrives mostly as txtspk, I can see how an ellipsis might not be of use... but for the rest of us, we should embrace the constraint. For it liberates, ultimately.

Tim Rich

I match my use of punctuation to the effect I want to create within the reader. If I want to convey a clear meaning I’ll opt for exact punctuation that invites the reader towards the messages I have in mind. If I want to disorientate I’ll introduce ambiguity. But I’m less and less interested in the trivia of stylistic experimentation and more and more interested in the trivium of liberal arts.

Lindsay Camp, writer and author of ‘Can I Change Your Mind?’

"As ever, it depends how the words are interpreted. If we take Plain English to be the opposite of the kind of language that tries to impress or even deceive readers by means of impenetrable jargon or self-important corporate verbiage, then we can all agree it's a good thing. But it worries me a bit that some people may understand the phrase to mean austere, unadorned, drained of colour, free from any form of wit or verbal playfulness - all things that can help to make our writing engaging or even enjoyable to read."

Freddie Baveystock, Managing Consultant – Brand, Rufus Leonard

"Plain English is a misnomer. There’s nothing plain or boring about good simple English – witness the impact of a poem like ‘The Trees’ by Philip Larkin, or ‘The Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost. Or, for that matter, any number of limericks, hymns and terrace chants. Sadly few businesses commission poets or comedians to craft their language. Many, on the other hand, have tried to take on Innocent’s tonality of refreshing simplicity, only to fall flat on their faces. So the answer to this question has to be ‘Neither’. Plain talking doesn’t always deliver compelling truth; but nothing beats it when it does."

Dan Radley, Start Creative

"I’ve just discovered the Pirate Translator at www.talklikeapirate.com/translator.html which is far more fun than Plain English, so from now on I’m going to talk like this. Ahaarrrrr! Them plain li’l words can be interestin' in combinations but I’ve always found fruity language appeals more t' comely wenches. In business, sayin' somethin' memorable be a cost-effective way for you t' achieve cut-through. Aye. So I’m all for whatever gets t' job done, me hearties. Accessibility Managers? Keelhaul ’em."

Lisa Desforges, Interbrand

"Plain is a pretty ambiguous word for an organisation so dedicated to precision. Just think of all those easily confused readers who might mistake the PECers for advocates of ordinariness rather than coveters of clarity! But seriously, do I want my words to be understandable? Of course. Do I want them benchmarked against an external quality standard with a Crystal Mark logo stamped at the end of every paragraph? Hell no."

Freddie Baveystock, Strategy & Communications Director, The Nest

“Yes and no. Certainly all the designers I know love working with writers, and looking around me, I see more brands taking care over their words. So in theory, spirit and practice I’m with John. In outlook, however, I don’t really share his breezy optimism. This year I expect to have just as many vapid political communiqués, frothy free magazines and dull DM thrust through my door as any other year. Ditto for pointless point of sale and screaming sale graphics. Culturally, we still have a mountain to climb.”

Fiona Thompson, Wordspring

“I’d love to think that 2007 could be the year of words used wisely, but remain a touch cynical just now. Perhaps designers could take inspiration from the recent ‘Literary Constructs’ exhibition at England & Co in London, W11. There, a range of artists cut up and manipulated words on paper in fantastical and beautiful ways. Chris Kenny takes disembodied phrases such as “Spikey blushed with pleasure as he shook Mrs Fieldmouse” and “Jack plunged in at once” and pins them to a board as though they were butterflies, creating witty poem landscapes. Meanwhile, Georgia Russell dissects books, often French classics, and displays the flayed results in acrylic cases or bell jars.”

Neil Taylor, Creative Director, The Writer

“Finally, someone running a big design agency who gets it. Thank heavens for John Allert. But it’d be great if design agencies didn’t just worry about the words they use when customers finally get to read their sometimes finely wrought websites, brochures and ads. What about the words they use to describe the brand before it hits the outside world? The language of brand models, essences, positionings, matrices, keys, and yes, lozenges is still woefully bland and uninspiring. So woeful that they’d be too embarrassed to ever utter them to a normal person. So why is it any different internally? As Scrappy Doo would say, let me at ’em. Let me at ’em!”

Jim Davies, totalcontent

“It’s certainly not the Wild West it was when 26 set up four years ago. There’s more of an appreciation of tone of voice out there, and a realisation that a story well told can give a brand that little something extra. Having said that, more often than not, writing still comes a poor second to visual content. It’s often left to the last moment and people aren’t mad about paying for it. And the paper stock is still more likely to get a credit than the writer. We’re at base camp – there’s still the best part of the summit to climb. Now where’s that crampon?”

Jim Davies, Writer, totalcontent

The Economist poster campaign is from the ‘if it ain’t broke’ school of advertising – it’s been ploughing the same old furrow since 1984. The early ones, masterminded by David Abbott, deserved all the acclaim that came their way – they were distinctive, intelligent and succinct. '"I never read The Economist." Management trainee. Aged 42' is probably the strongest. At a time when the glossy advertising image held sway, they bucked the trend, demonstrating the power of a few well-chosen words. The figures speak for themselves: worldwide sales doubled between 1988 and 2000; advertising revenue increased by 250%. Now, they seem to be trying a bit too hard. The puns are a bit laboured, and intrusive graphic devices detract from the elegant simplicity that once set them apart. Working on a campaign this famous is a double-edged sword – there’s a great heritage to draw on, but you have a lot to live up to. Perhaps it’s time to move on.

Roger Horberry, Alp Associates

I’m a fan. Simple is hard, as anyone who’s ever tried to do something similar knows. Only the most curmudgeonly creative could fail to be impressed by the variety, wit and sheer economy displayed in these ads. Their authors make the minimum amount of content deliver the maximum impact without recourse to the usual visual gimcrackery. OK, the occasional execution misses the mark but the overall hit ratio is envy-inducingly high. Basically, I wish I’d thought of them.

Tim Rich, Writer

Rather like the economy, long-running campaigns have highs and lows. I still like '"I never read The Economist.” Management trainee. Aged 42.' And the poster placed on a double-decker bus's roof that said 'Hello to our friends in high places'. Cue a mild depression. Did the latest creative team base their conception of business phrases on a stuffy text book from 1985? 'White collar' is now applied to everything from CEOs to administrative drones – which do they mean? 'Fold', 'Still busking' and 'bigger picture' are weak puns. 'Sparks & Mensa' is a recycled line about M&S from the 70s. But I'm more thrown by the references to marketing and communications here – is the idea of a 'rough' something most business people understand? Why a self-conscious headline about headlines? 'Free Seeds' manages to lower the brand to the level of tactical sniping at other publications while delivering a rather feeble play on seeds of knowledge. Or do they mean seeds of growth? This lot seem laboured. But I bet the campaign bounces back.

Neil Taylor, Creative Director, The Writer

Come on! 'Sparks & Mensa', that's genius, isn't it? Anyone who's serious about writing in business should jump for joy just that The Economist ads exist. They say two things which I want to hammer into the head of every senior business type in the country. First, that you don't (always) need pictures to make your point; good writing can do the job all on its own. Second, you don't need to be po-faced to sound clever. Obviously, some of them are better than others (I mean, 'Is your indecision final?'? My dad used to say that, for goodness' sake). But how many of us are funny all the time?

Mike Reed, Reed Words

It is the best of briefs; it is the worst of briefs. Such a huge opportunity – either to look wonderful or to screw up very publicly. And I have to say, this latest crop seem to be woefully below par. ‘Sparks & Mensa’ is not only a real groaner (it ought to say ‘Geddit?’ on the end), it’s too ‘on the nose’, as screenwriters say. The classic Economist ads compliment the audience in elegantly oblique fashion. This one says ‘You’re really clever if you read The Economist’, and sticks an Eric Idlean elbow in your ribs. (And what has Marks & Spencer got to do with The Economist anyway?) ‘Is your indecision final?’ seems to strike a sour note. Rather than congratulating its audience on their taste (and implying that non-readers had better join the club), it says very clearly, ‘You’re really struggling, aren’t you? Better read The Economist.’ Economist readers (in the world of the campaign) don’t read it because they’re struggling – they read it precisely because they’re not. It’s easy to knock, though, isn’t it? I know this is the point where someone says, "Have you got any better ideas?" To which I can only reply, "I'd be more than happy to provide an estimate."

David Hughes, David & Associates

Even the best orchestras strike a bum note from time to time. Even so, they don't usually happen all in the same bar. Without doubt creating new ads for the Economist is a tough gig. This long running campaign has been a brilliant example of brevity, restraint, wit and style. I've enjoyed each new expression of the core idea 'You're smart if you read the Economist'. Part of that enjoyment has been the amazement that the agency has managed to keep the thing fresh for 22 years. This latest crop may not stand up when compared to the whole of the back catalogue - very little could. I'm sure it's a blip and normal service will resume.

Chris Bird, Word Bird

Ben & Jerry, those chunky monkeys, were one of the first to sweeten up the corporate tone of voice, thanks to their sweet and sticky language, and the richness of their story-telling. Later, Orange talked to us ‘on equal terms, in a tone of friendly respect’, changing how we thought about mobile phones. Now we’re in danger of losing our innocence, as global purveyors of hydrogenated vegetable powders seek to sound like entrepreneurial smoothie-makers, and giant multi-nationals market bath bombs in an attempt to sound lush. So… ‘Tone of voice – valuable business commodity or meaningless buzzphrase?’ It all depends on whether you get in there first, and have something original to say.

Mike Reed, Reed Words

In this post-Innocent era, I don’t think anyone can doubt the power of a genuinely original and distinctive tone of voice. However, I do think some clients get excited about ‘tone of voice’ without really appreciating what that means. It can be seen as a bit of a magic wand – “If we get a good tone of voice, we’ll do brilliantly, like Innocent.” (Like the idea that a smart new logo will save the business.) Which I think accounts for the number of people asking for something “a bit like Innocent”. When you ask about the brand, its personality, and what makes it distinctive, such clients often go a bit quiet and start frowning. And they tend to come up with a brief that says, “We want to sound professional and authoritative, but also friendly, human and conversational.” All too often, this is presented as something genuinely new and distinctive. A genuinely distinctive voice has to be grounded in the truth of the brand and its values. Otherwise it can sound like someone putting on an accent in a transparent attempt to be something they’re not.

Ben Afia

How we talk to people affects how they feel about us. They make assumption on what we say, and how. If our words and tone fit how they see the world, they might want to talk to us more. And if they don’t, they’ll look elsewhere. So much for stating the obvious. But I think the same goes for companies and organisations. The words and tone they use give us clues about what they’re like to deal with and whether we can trust them. That’s what I think tone of voice is about. So, I absolutely think it’s a valuable business commodity. What remains to be seen is how far we can take it. Innocent’s distinctive tone of voice on bottles, echoes the purity of the juice inside. And the idea of drinking unadulterated juice appeals to people who feel bad about eating loads of takeaways. It’s a great business idea, brilliantly communicated through a tone that’s attractive to a certain market. The result is an expanding business that sells lots of juice. For other organisations, like the water board, we still want to feel that what matters to us, matters to them. And a straightforward and honest tone can help them to get that message across to us... but only if they believe it.

A response from Dan Germain of Innocent drinks:

I always find it a bit odd that people might want to sound a bit like us (Innocent). It seems to me like the only thing they should ever really want to sound like is themselves. the tone that innocent uses is the one that we use when we’re talking to our mums or messing about in the pub on a Friday night. It didn't get invented or agreed upon after a period of consultancy with some expert toners. And so what you hear from us is us. Not someone else's idea of what we are. Of course, analysing it like this is the toughest thing of all, because it makes you sound like a bit of an overly analytical knob. and that’s the last thing we want to be. fundamentally, I believe that a company will do best when it uses its own natural voice. but that might be the tricky bit – finding out what your voice is when you’ve been somebody else’s for too long.

Rishi Dastidar

Management speak is like a particularly nasty STI: despite effective remedies, it is always there even when you think you are clear, and can flare up again at the slightest provocation. Practitioners in the field should remind their patients that as well as a detrimental effect on those who come into contact with such words, their use has an impact closer to home – readers are likely to sense a poverty of thought, ill intentions behind obfuscatory language, and a general lack of humaneness. Prescriptions should always include a willingness to return email/memo/brief/report to transmitter of said jargon with a health warning attached; or a transfusion of simplicity, clarity and creativity.

Richard Owsley, Writers

Nothing seems to be able to stem the loathsome torrent of driving, delivering and leveraging on value propositions and core competencies. I used to think this was good news for my mortgage payments – so long as this nonsense proliferated, there would always be a need for translators (even if arriving at a meaningful rendition wasn’t always easy). And with English as the universal language of business, the world was my oyster. But now I’m beginning to fear this globalisation. The more I work for multinational corporations, the more I realise that they learn not standard English, but its bastard spawn. When my children reach working age they will need only three languages – Spanish, Mandarin Chinese, and Management Claptrap.

Anelia Schutte, The Writer

There’s no doubt that management speak is still rife. The difference now is that it’s finally being recognised – and publicly ridiculed – for the fact-shrouding hogwash that it really is. Why would any self-respecting manager want to sound like David Brent? Or be the brunt of a Boardroom Bingo game? On BBC2’s ‘Balderdash And Piffle’, Ian Hislop blamed the spread of management speak on the rise of management consultancies. But even the management consultancies are now becoming self-conscious about their jargon-riddled drivel. Just in the past year, The Writer has helped three such consultancies to exorcise their ‘paradigm shifts’ and ‘optimum work/life balances’. It’s like smoking. Some people might never quit the management-speaking habit. But it’s becoming increasingly anti-social.