For a long time, I thought writing documents at work was mostly about documentation.
Capturing decisions. Writing specs. Leaving a trail behind.
Over time, I’ve learned that good documents aren’t really about record-keeping. They’re about reducing cognitive load for the person reading them — especially when that person isn’t you.
That shift changed how I write.
Writing Is a Design Exercise
I now treat writing documents as a form of design.
Just like a product interface, a document either helps someone move forward or slows them down. There’s very little neutral ground.
A user-first document answers questions before they’re asked:
- Why does this exist?
- What problem is it solving?
- What decision is being proposed or recorded?
- What happens next?
If a reader has to work hard to understand intent, the document has already failed.
I Write for the Reader, Not the Author
The biggest mistake I see in internal documents is writing for the author’s own clarity rather than the reader’s.
That usually shows up as:
- Long context dumps
- Unstructured thoughts
- Assumed knowledge
- Missing conclusions
When I write, I constantly ask myself:
If someone reads this a week from now, will it still make sense without me explaining it?
If the answer is no, I rewrite.
Clarity Beats Completeness
Early on, I tried to be exhaustive.
More details. More edge cases. More explanation.
What I learned instead is that clarity scales better than completeness. A clear document invites follow-up questions. An overloaded one discourages engagement altogether.
I now prioritize:
- Clear problem statements
- Explicit assumptions
- Simple language
- Visible decisions
Details can always be added later. Confusion is harder to undo.
Structure Does Most of the Work
Well-structured documents reduce effort before a single word is read.
I rely heavily on:
- Clear headings
- Short sections
- Logical flow from problem → context → decision → next steps
This isn’t about formatting for aesthetics. It’s about making it easy for someone to scan, re-enter, or reference the document under pressure.
Good structure respects the reader’s time.
Writing Exposes Gaps in Thinking
One unexpected benefit of writing is how quickly it reveals unclear thinking.
If I struggle to explain something simply, it’s usually because I don’t understand it well enough yet. Writing forces those gaps to surface early — before they turn into misalignment or rework later.
In that sense, documents aren’t just communication tools.
They’re thinking tools.
Documents as Living Artifacts
I’ve stopped treating documents as something you write once and forget.
The most useful documents evolve:
- As decisions change
- As assumptions are validated or disproven
- As new context emerges
A document that can be updated easily tends to stay relevant longer than one that aims for perfection upfront.
The Real Goal of a User-First Document
Ultimately, a good document should help someone else do their job better.
That might mean:
- Making a decision clearer
- Reducing back-and-forth
- Providing confidence to move forward
- Creating alignment across teams
If a document does that, it’s done its job — even if it’s not perfectly written.
A small closing thought
Writing documents taught me that clarity is an act of empathy.
When you write with the reader in mind, you’re not just sharing information — you’re making space for better decisions.
That’s a skill worth practicing.