In a 1996 interview, Robert Smith of The Cure complained about the disappearance of vinyl albums:
“They’re so big they actually meant something and the artwork looked good.”
The obvious point is that twelve-inch artwork has more impact than a little CD booklet, but the more useful point is that shrinking the format also shrank everything surrounding the music.
You did not merely listen to an LP. You could listen while studying the cover, reading the lyrics, examining photographs, checking the credits, and noticing details in the artwork that became associated with the songs themselves. The music was the core product, but what you saw, read, and handled while listening made it larger because several elements were working together at the same time.
When it comes to copy, the words matter, but the prospect does not encounter words in isolation. They see the headline beside the image, the claim beside the proof, the guarantee beside the price, the testimonial beside the objection it answers, and the sequence in which all of those things arrive. Strip the copy down to “the essential message” and you can preserve every factual point while weakening the combined effect of the whole sales argument.
This is one reason copy can become worse while becoming cleaner. A designer removes the comparison chart. An editor cuts the demonstration. Someone shortens the guarantee because it looks repetitive. The argument is still technically there, but the supporting material that made it convincing has been reduced.
Do not ask whether an element is necessary to communicate the message. Ask whether removing it makes the claim hit the prospect with less force.
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