Do I Make Myself Clear?
Shows how to make any writing clearer by cutting padding, putting the point first and varying rhythm. Evans also argues that plain words protect readers from the fog banks and politicians use to hide their aims.

Table of Content
1. Introduction
1 min 00 sec
Many professionals spend their days writing emails, reports and proposals that readers skim, misread or abandon. In Do I Make Myself Clear?, Harold Evans, who edited The Sunday Times from 1967 to 1981 and later ran Random House, argues that this is fixable, because clear writing is a craft and not a gift. His first lesson is blunt: most muddy sentences improve the moment you delete the words that carry no meaning.
The book makes one case. A small set of habits, from choosing the active voice to hunting what one scholar calls zombie nouns, will sharpen anything you write. And those habits matter beyond style, because tangled language is how banks and politicians hide what they are doing. By the end, you will be able to spot padding in a contract, see why a perfect readability score can still describe nonsense, and rebuild a sentence so its point arrives first.
2. Clear writing is a skill you can build
1 min 38 sec
A famous magazine announced its future in a sentence nobody could decode, and a top newspaper did little better. Evans explains why the web breeds this fog, and why even Shakespeare is evidence you can escape it.
3. Use rules and readability scores as guides only
1 min 45 sec
You can write total nonsense and still earn an excellent readability score. Evans shows which school rules and formulas deserve your trust, and where each one stops being useful to a writer who wants to be understood.
4. Put your point first and your actor up front
1 min 39 sec
Three famous novelists with very different voices all obeyed the same two principles. One rescues a dull office memo, the other a sentence that makes readers wait twenty words for its point, with a telling exception involving a baby.
5. Cut the words that fog your meaning
1 min 53 sec
A best-selling novelist warned that adverbs pave the road to hell, and Evans agrees. Small words you add without thinking, and some that others add on purpose, are hiding meaning in plain sight.
6. Hunt down zombie nouns and flesh-eaters
1 min 57 sec
Some of the most serious-sounding words in office writing are verbs that died and came back wrong. A quick search of your draft can find them, along with the wordy phrases that make contracts so tiring.
7. Give your sentences a rhythm readers enjoy
1 min 34 sec
Perfectly clear sentences can still send a reader to sleep. Evans borrows a lesson from music and offers three dials any writer can turn to keep attention without giving up any clarity.
8. Spot what murky fine print is hiding from you
1 min 56 sec
Evans argues that dense paperwork helped push the global financial system to the brink. He follows the trail from bank fine print to political campaigns and shows who benefits when readers give up.
9. Defend the truth by choosing plain words
1 min 48 sec
Orwell set a date for the death of meaning, and Evans suspects we are ahead of schedule. The defense he proposes starts with something as small as knowing effect from affect.
10. Conclusion
1 min 02 sec
Evans’s conviction is that every reader deserves to know what the writer means, and the book shows the craft and the politics to be one subject. The habits that make a memo readable are the same ones that make it hard to bury a risky loan or an empty promise inside a sentence: the point placed first, the actor named, the verb chosen over its zombie noun. Murky prose is sometimes lazy and, as the banks showed, sometimes deliberate.
So begin with your own writing. Take the next thing you plan to send and strike the adverbs, the stray ups and outs, and the phrases that spend four words saying has or about. Search it for endings like ation and ment, and wake the verbs underneath. And when you face a contract or a statement you cannot follow, stop blaming yourself first and ask for plain words.
Clarity starts as a courtesy to one reader. Practiced by enough writers, it becomes a defense of the truth.
About this book
What is this book about?
Contracts, academic papers and corporate press releases often use many words to say very little, and the web, with no word limits, has made it worse. Harold Evans, one of Britain's most celebrated newspaper editors, argues that nobody is born a clear writer. Like any skill, clear writing improves with effort, and a handful of habits do most of the work. Evans walks through those habits with examples from a long editing life: choosing the active voice, stating the point before the reasons, rationing adjectives and adverbs, dropping small parasitical words, and hunting down zombie nouns and the wordy phrases he calls flesh-eaters. He treats school rules and readability formulas as useful guides that should never have the last word, and he shows how varying sentence form, function and style keeps a reader listening. Then he raises the stakes. Dense language in bank paperwork, Evans argues, helped bring on the recession that began in 2007, and politicians use empty or misleading words to avoid taking positions and to cast doubt on facts. Readers get practical tools for sharper emails and reports, plus a reason to care about meaning that reaches well beyond style.
Book Information
Who it's for
Workplace writers
Professionals whose emails, reports and memos get skimmed, misread or ignored.
Academic writers
Students and academics who want to escape jargon without sounding simplistic.
Consumers and citizens
Anyone who signs contracts or reads political claims and wants to spot language built to confuse.
About the Author
Harold Evans
Harold Evans (1928 to 2020) was born in Manchester, England, and became one of Britain's best-known newspaper editors. He edited The Sunday Times from 1967 to 1981, leading a campaign to win compensation for the mothers of children harmed by the drug thalidomide, and then edited The Times for a year. In 2001 British journalists voted him the greatest British newspaper editor of all time. In the United States, where he became a citizen, he was founding editor of Condé Nast Traveler and president and publisher of Random House. He was knighted in 2004 and became editor-at-large of Reuters in 2011.
Ratings & Reviews
Ratings at a glance
What people think
Listeners find this title to be essential for anyone who writes, highlighting the outstanding tips on composition and the plentiful humor. Additionally, the caliber of content is highly rated, with one listener pointing out how it is filled with perspectives on written language. However, the tempo is criticized for being pretentious, and views on the quality of vocabulary are divided.
Top reviews
The chapter on 'zombies'—those lifeless nouns that devour perfectly good verbs—is worth the price of admission alone. Harold Evans writes with the precision of a master craftsman who has spent decades in the trenches of Fleet Street and New York publishing. To be fair, he isn't just teaching you where to put a comma; he's teaching you how to think with clarity and purpose. I found his analysis of 'lethal language' particularly sobering, showing how murky prose can actually lead to real-world disasters. While some might find his constant use of political examples a bit much, I thought they provided essential context for why clear communication is a civic duty. It's a bulky read, but every page feels packed with insights that you just don't get from standard grammar guides. If you want to strip away the fluff and make your sentences move with actual muscle, this is the book for you.
Show moreWow, what an absolute education in the power of the English language. This isn't just a grammar book; it’s a passionate defense of truth and clarity in an era of 'pure wind' and political obfuscation. Evans follows in the footsteps of George Orwell, arguing that how we write directly reflects how we think and govern. I loved his section on 'zombie' nouns—those words like 'implementation' or 'utilization' that suck the life out of active prose. Truth is, his rewrites are masterclasses in themselves, showing how a 150-word paragraph of bureaucratic nonsense can be distilled into twenty powerful words. While he is certainly opinionated, his wit makes the medicine go down easily. This book should be required reading for every journalist, lawyer, and student in the country. It’s a dense, rich, and ultimately necessary guide for the 21st century.
Show moreNot what I expected, but exactly what I needed. I picked this up thinking it would be a standard 'how-to' on grammar, but it’s more of a philosophical deep dive into why clarity matters for a healthy society. Evans is a word craftsman of the highest order, and his passion for the craft is infectious on every page. From his hilarious takedowns of 'shadow banks' jargon to his deep respect for the legacy of Shakespeare, the book is a treasure trove of linguistic history and practical tips. Look, if you’re looking for a quick cheat sheet, this isn't it. This is a book for people who truly love language and want to understand its mechanics from the ground up. It’s an entertaining romp that makes you look at every sentence you write with a more critical, editorial eye. Truly a gem for the aspiring word-smith.
Show moreAs someone who makes a living through words, I found Evans' insights into journalistic prose incredibly refreshing. He doesn't just preach about brevity; he demonstrates it through sharp, side-by-side comparisons of bloated original texts and his own streamlined versions. Look, the book is definitely long, and the author's voice can occasionally come across as a bit curmudgeonly or even pretentious when he's railing against modern jargon. However, his wit keeps the instruction from ever feeling dry or academic. I especially appreciated the sections on 'flesh-eaters' and prepositional parasites. My only real gripe is that the audiobook format makes it hard to digest the more technical lists. Still, for anyone looking to refine their craft, Evans offers a wealth of experience that is hard to find elsewhere. It’s a deep dive into what makes language actually function.
Show moreEver wonder why modern news and corporate memos feel so incredibly dull and difficult to parse? Harold Evans answers that question with biting humor and a career’s worth of expertise. He takes aim at the 'flesh-eaters' of language—those unnecessary words and pompous phrases that clutter up our communication. I found the 'Ten Shortcuts' chapter to be an absolute goldmine for practical tips. In my experience, most writing books are either too dry or too vague, but Evans provides concrete examples of how to inject energy into your sentences. He does lean heavily on his background in journalism, which might not appeal to fiction writers, but the core principles of clarity remain universal. It’s a bit of a slog in the middle due to the sheer volume of examples, but the insights are undeniably valuable for anyone who wants their words to carry weight.
Show moreFinally finished this beast of a book, and I have to say, my writing is better for it. Evans has an incredible knack for spotting the 'pleonasms' and redundancies that we all fall into without thinking. The chapter on lethal language was a standout for me, illustrating how poor communication in high-stakes environments like the military or medicine can have tragic results. It’s a sobering reminder that clear writing isn't just about aesthetics; it's about accuracy and safety. To be fair, the pacing is a bit uneven, and some of the chapters feel more like a collection of essays than a cohesive guide. However, the sheer density of information makes it a fantastic reference to keep on the shelf. I’ll definitely be going back to his lists of 'good-word' glossaries. It’s a must-read for writers, even if you have to skim some of the more self-indulgent anecdotes.
Show moreDirect and punchy, this book serves as a clarion call for anyone tired of clotted, lifeless prose. Evans uses his decades of experience as a top-tier editor to dismantle the bad habits we learn in school and the workplace. I particularly enjoyed his 'Ten Shortcuts' and his insistence on 'razing adverbs' to let the verbs do the heavy lifting. The book is infused with a dry, British wit that kept me smiling, even when the subject matter got a bit technical. Some readers might find the journalistic focus a bit narrow, but the lessons on clarity and rhythm apply to almost any form of communication. It’s a bit pretentious in places, sure, but when you’ve been knighted for your services to journalism, I suppose you’ve earned a little swagger. A very helpful addition to my writing library.
Show moreAfter hearing so much praise for Harold Evans, I finally got around to reading this, but my feelings are decidedly mixed. On one hand, the man is clearly a legend in the world of editing, and his advice on favoring active verbs is solid. On the other hand, the book is way too long and suffers from the very lack of brevity it critiques. He includes massive, multi-page quotes just to show a minor edit, which makes for a very tedious reading experience. Personally, I found the constant political barbs distracting; they dated the book and felt more like 'Trashing Trump' than teaching craft. There's a good 150-page book hidden inside this 400-page one. If you have the patience to dig through the repetitive examples and the author's personal venting, there is great advice here, but it’s definitely an exercise in endurance.
Show morePicked this up hoping for a masterclass in editing, but I was instead greeted by a mountain of political commentary that felt entirely out of place. Frankly, I didn't sign up for a critique of the Trump administration when I bought a book on writing style. Evans spends so much time using political speeches as 'bad' examples that the actual advice on prose gets buried under his personal biases. The structure is repetitive, often circling back to the same points about active verbs without offering much new depth after the first hundred pages. While there are a few gems regarding clarity, the 'zombie' concept is better explained in shorter essays by others. It's frustrating because Evans clearly knows his stuff, but his delivery is so focused on his own political leanings that it alienates a huge portion of the audience. I'd stick with Zinsser or Strunk and White for a more objective guide.
Show moreThis book is a total disappointment for anyone looking for actual, accurate grammatical instruction. Not gonna lie, I lost all respect for the author's credibility when I hit his definitions of sentence structures on page 34. He completely butchers the difference between simple and compound sentences, claiming a simple sentence can't have a compound verb, which is just fundamentally wrong. If you're going to write a 400-page tome on 'making yourself clear,' the least you can do is get basic middle-school grammar right. The rest of the book is mostly a platform for him to boast about his past editorial triumphs and air his grievances against politicians he dislikes. It’s more of an ego-trip than a writing manual. Don't waste your time or money on this when there are much more reliable resources available for authors.
Show moreQuestions about this book
What is the main idea of Do I Make Myself Clear?
Harold Evans argues that clear writing is a learnable skill and that it matters far beyond style. A few habits, such as using the active voice, stating the point first and cutting adverbs, zombie nouns and wordy phrases, make any text easier to read. He also argues that unclear language lets banks and politicians hide their aims, so clarity helps protect the truth.
What is a zombie noun?
The term comes from Helen Sword, a professor at the University of Auckland. A zombie noun is a verb turned into a noun, such as implementation from implement or authorization from authorize. Evans suggests searching drafts for words ending in ation, ance, ment, ence and sion and asking whether the original verb works better, while accepting that words like invention or imagination are fine.
Does Harold Evans say you should never use the passive voice?
No. Evans prefers the active voice because the passive adds words and weakens urgency, so saying the staff meeting is on Monday beats a note explaining that it was decided the meeting would be held then. But he allows the passive for tact around sensitive subjects, or when the receiver of an action is the real story, as in a piece about a baby kissed by a president.
Are readability scores like the Flesch index useful?
Evans treats them as guides. Measures such as the Flesch Reading Ease Index, the Flesch-Kincaid grade level, the Dale-Chall Formula and the Gunning fog index can offer useful insight, and Flesch’s formula sets the ideal average sentence length at 18 words. But nonsense written in short sentences and simple words can still score well, so the real test is whether the writing says something.
Who should read Do I Make Myself Clear?
It suits anyone who writes at work and wants readers to grasp the point quickly: managers, students, academics and officials used to jargon. It also suits readers worried about how language is bent in finance and politics, since Evans links everyday habits like cutting padding to protecting the truth from confusing fine print and empty political phrases.
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