This is not earth shattering news. Not even news per se. It’s what you get if you were to slow down the insane rush of ‘news’ just a split second to see how the sausage is made. In this instance, how the news (Comcast acquisition of TimeWarner) is packaged, from a quick, high-level design point of view.
What we have here is a legal document dressed as a press release masquerading as a blog post presented at a corporate website in a section called “ComcastVoices: A Place For Conversations With Comcast”. In other words, it’s lobbying collateral raised to the level of public conversation.
(tl;dr: According to Comcast, the merger is “pro-sumer” if you “get past some of the hysteria,” it’s “approvable” by the regulators and won’t “reduce consumer choice at all”. Will it raise prices? “not promising that they will go down or even that they will increase less rapidly.” Given the historical record of the industry, it’s Comedy Central material.)
Unless you’re in this industry, you’ll likely never read it: it’s 2,480 words. If you’re a civilian and do read it, you won’t understand most of it. It’s not meant for you. How do you know that? If you look at the large introductory banner (above) you get your first design clue: “public interest benefits and undertakings”. It highlights the good stuff: “public,” “interest” and “benefits”. All good. How about “undertakings”? Well, as a promise of potential future positive actions, it sure beats “anti-trust concerns”. Since “public interest benefits and undertakings” is the only part highlighted in color in what’s otherwise an ocean of gray type, you can read this framing statement and be done with it. It perfectly encapsulates the rest: This merger is good for you. Any questions you may have will be taken care of. Thanks for stopping by.
Of course, if you’re really careful, you’ll also notice that it’s bylined by David L. Cohen not just as Executive Vice President (which is what he uses pretty much everywhere else and most notably at the official Comcast Executive Biographies org-chart) but also as Chief Diversity Officer. Yes, “Diversity”. Now you know you’ve really hit on the corporate heavy-gun of choice against discrimination, anti-trust and class warfare charges.
It would be very tempting, at this point, to go into the sausage factory and do a point-by-point walkthrough dealing with the creation of a media/internet/communications colossus that’ll dominate a third of the nation and all the anti-competitive network effects of such consolidation, but that too would be old news. Also, I promised this would be quick, high-level and design oriented.
If you read a lot of contracts or are involved in writing corporate legalese, you already know that it’s important to segregate the good parts from the bad and the mundane, even in those droning tomes set in monospaced fonts like the ubiquitous Times Roman or Courier. Type size, line length, leading, margins, bullets, lists and boldface can subtly lead the reader to pay unequal attention to selected parts. Of course, it’s best when this is done with a delicate touch for maximum surreptitious effect. Like so:
It’s all pro, it’s all good. “Benefits” repeated 4X? Check. Segmented and bulleted? Check. Boldfaced talking points? Check. Inviting? Check. But what about the cons?
Well, we already lost the boldface emphasis and the sound-bite friendly talking points. First comes “certain competitive concerns might be raised.” (“Might be” as if this M&A deal will sail through without any competition/anti-trust questions?) Then comes the yes-but mental priming before we get to deal with “certain competitive concerns”. (Not as memorable as the pro section above, is it?)
But if you really want to lose your audience, you’d best bring out the biggest gun of all: the text-soup with no paragraphs, no segmentation, no bullets, no highlights, no boldface, no nothin’. And dare your readers to read it…forget understanding or recalling any of it.
“Important Information” and “Cautionary Statement”. So “important” and so “cautionary” as to be served as text-soup. Unfortunately, they are not for the “benefit” of the corporation, so glance-and-forget-it.
Am I being naive here? After all, this is a corporation putting its best foot forward, isn’t it? I know. (In another life, I’ve done this for some of the largest corporations in the world.) My point is actually as obvious as it’s depressing: perversely, there is good news in all this. Design works, however evil it may be.