This is a hook
Tell me how many times you’ve read this week “Nail the hook and you’ve got them”.
The obsession over the hook is real, and justified, but dangerously incomplete.
The hook gets you to the door, but what happens inside the room is a different story.
And before you start rolling your eyes, let me tell you there’s not enough emphasis on what to do once your reader gets past the hook and into your content.
We don’t read top to bottom anymore, we know this. And I mentioned in a previous issue that reading online looks like doing mental parkour.
We scan, jump, reread, skip ahead, come back.
That parkour has consequences.
The 20% stat people should talk more about
Nielsen Norman Group has a study that’s been referenced in UX circles for decades. On an average web page, users read at most 28% of the words. 20% is more probable.
The exact number isn’t the point, it varies depending on the type of content and the context anyway.
But what the research tells us is that most people scan. Which we already knew. I just don’t think we’re aware of how little, until you read that number.
And it also applies to presentations, emails, landing pages…
So which 20% of your words are they actually reading?
And are those the right ones?
But wait, I’ve been cheeky
That 20% describes functional reading. Someone checking a landing page looking for information decides in real time if it’s worth their attention (you do that too with work emails *cough).
Not all content works that way.
When someone intentionally opens your content because they signed up, they follow you, because they chose to be here (thank you), the dynamic changes.
There’s a relationship. A prior commitment to your voice.
Does formatting stop mattering then?
No. But the starting point is different. And so is the question:
Are you showing up for the reader who showed up for you?
That’s why some content feels off
Friction, dear reader. It’s all about friction.
In UX, friction is anything that makes an experience harder than it needs to be.
An option you can’t find. A form that asks for too much (aren’t they all?). Checkouts (don’t get me started on this one).
Online reading works the same way.
Anything that makes you work harder than necessary to get to the next idea is friction. And it kills momentum fast.
Even with a committed reader.
You’re designing a reading experience.
That’s why some 200-word posts feel like a 2000 wall of text and an 605-word newsletter gets read until the last comma (passive sentences and extra adverbs included).
Before you go
I know you might be reaching the end of this thinking: V, writing is already hard enough without adding all of this on top.
Buuuuut listen.
Understanding how people actually read makes it easier, it does. Because instead of trying to be perfect, you’re focusing on being clear.
Every day you open things looking for information. And you open things because you want to. In both cases, you know if you’re staying or not, and why.
I’ve been covering for months many of the structures, formats and rules that exist precisely to make you stay.
After all, that’s what UX is for :p
You already know what good feels like. You’ve known all along.
So think about the hook, but don’t forget the room.
Until the next scroll,
V
P.S. If you're now looking at your website or your last presentation with completely different eyes… sorry. And since we’re in stat mode today, some sources suggest most websites could cut their content by 40% and nobody would notice. Just leaving that here (brutal ending).
