Some organisations, the words just flow. They deliver their message – however serious it may be - in a style that is easy on the eye. Facts, context and anecdote are interwoven to make a crystal-clear point: “whilst the problem may be complex the solution is simple, and it involves you.”
This quality of writing is common within the environmental movement. Likewise, human rights organisations. This quality is borne of the fact that the author is wholly immersed in their subject. The issues are constantly swirling around in their head, such that to sit down and express them in print is almost a physical relief. It is not so much a job, more a calling.
Once in a generation a politician fits the bill. Sir Winston Churchill, Tony Benn, Dennis Skinner. Whilst you may question the content, you can’t help but admire the style.
Some organisations, it is as if English is not their first language. Awkward, disjointed, stilted. The message is in there, but it is delivered in such a scattergun style that you have to search for it. As Eric Morecambe would have put it, they are playing all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order.
It is all the more painful when you feel an affinity with the author. You desperately want to cheer them on, safe in the knowledge that if you are getting the message then others will be too. Instead, you are left understanding exactly how your language teacher felt all those years ago as she marked your pitiful attempt at French comprehension.
Martina Navratilova had it nailed when talking about tennis: “You have to decide if you are involved or committed. Think ham and eggs. The chicken is involved, the pig is committed.”
At the end of yet another week of farmer bashing, is there anyone out there who will stand up on the national stage and show their commitment to UK agriculture?
This quality of writing is common within the environmental movement. Likewise, human rights organisations. This quality is borne of the fact that the author is wholly immersed in their subject. The issues are constantly swirling around in their head, such that to sit down and express them in print is almost a physical relief. It is not so much a job, more a calling.
Once in a generation a politician fits the bill. Sir Winston Churchill, Tony Benn, Dennis Skinner. Whilst you may question the content, you can’t help but admire the style.
Some organisations, it is as if English is not their first language. Awkward, disjointed, stilted. The message is in there, but it is delivered in such a scattergun style that you have to search for it. As Eric Morecambe would have put it, they are playing all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order.
It is all the more painful when you feel an affinity with the author. You desperately want to cheer them on, safe in the knowledge that if you are getting the message then others will be too. Instead, you are left understanding exactly how your language teacher felt all those years ago as she marked your pitiful attempt at French comprehension.
Martina Navratilova had it nailed when talking about tennis: “You have to decide if you are involved or committed. Think ham and eggs. The chicken is involved, the pig is committed.”
At the end of yet another week of farmer bashing, is there anyone out there who will stand up on the national stage and show their commitment to UK agriculture?