The six bullshit words that changed my career
"Please indicate your level of agreement…"
The second I heard myself say this out loud, I knew I sounded like a dumbass.
I was reading a survey draft to my wife—just to see if the questions made sense—when this corporate fluff came out of my mouth. It was fall 2020, I'd recently been laid off, and I was writing surveys from my parents' kitchen table. But none of that context mattered in that moment. What mattered was the look on her face.
I'd never used my "survey voice" around her before.
That voice only came out when I was alone, staring at a screen, writing questions for respondents.
And suddenly I understood: if that language sounded stupid out loud to my wife, it probably sounded just as stupid to respondents reading it.
I felt embarrassed about every survey I'd ever written.
Like realizing I had salad stuck in my teeth for the past three years.
Luckily the solution was obvious. Before fielding a question, I'd read it out loud.
When I did, I didn't have to guess whether a question was confusing or filled with jargon—I could feel it. And if my wife was around, I could see it in her reaction.
If I could give you one guideline for writing better questions, it's this: read them out loud.
Don't worry about sounding stupid. I always do with the first draft—that's the point.
The smartest thing you can do is hear the jargon and BS now, before a thousand respondents do.
If you follow this guideline, you’ll start seeing “survey voice” everywhere, and develop an immunity to it.
For example I recently got a survey from YouTubeTV that asked why I bought NFL Sunday Ticket. One question asked:
“What NFL team are you the biggest fan of?”
Why not just ask, “What’s your team?”
Another asked:
“To what extent are you satisfied with your experience using NFL Sunday Ticket on YouTubeTV?”
Why not, “Do you like NFL Sunday Ticket?”
On their own, these differences might seem trivial. But survey jargon is like a polite smile—it keeps things professional but the more you add, the less it feels like a conversation.
Anyways I've been reading questions out loud ever since that kitchen table moment.
What started as a personal quality check for freelance projects has turned into a real business—because it turns out I wasn't the only one tired of survey voice.
It’s why, in my Survey Roasts, I start by reading each question out loud.
Slowly.
No commentary.
Each Roast is a recorded Loom video, so you’ll hear your questions read back to you by someone outside your organization.
Often, that's all it takes to spot what's off.
From there, I give my recommendations. I’m not just following best practices. I’m focused on making each question sound like something you’d actually ask another person.
The result is clearer answers, fewer guesses, and better signal in the data.
Book a Roast.
Send me your survey draft, and for $145, I’ll record a 15-minute Loom video with clear, copy-and-paste edits and practical suggestions to improve your survey.