Most speech wastes itself. People talk to soothe discomfort, to fill air, to be seen. Not to deliver force. In groups, they perform. Alone, they narrate. The result is the same: their words soften. Sharp thoughts are buried under noise. Over time, listeners tune out. Not from disagreement—but from fatigue. Even blunt truths don’t land if the speaker won’t get to the point.

Principle

Speech is action. Not display, not therapy. Every sentence carries weight or it doesn’t belong. Clarity is earned by what you strip away. Cut early. Cut often. Speak when the words change something—and only then.

Application

Use a three-part structure for any spoken contribution: stance, strike, support.

Start with stance. State where you’re speaking from. “From experience.” “Looking at risk.” “As her partner.” This orients the listener and earns attention.

Then strike. Deliver the point in one sentence. “We stop here.” “That’s not true.” “I want out.” No lead-ins. No qualifiers. If it doesn’t stand alone, it isn’t ready.

Then support. One reason, one request, or one fact. Nothing more. Don’t soften the edge with opinions or process. “Because the numbers don’t hold.” “Tell him today.” “We’ve tried twice.”

Enforce these deployment rules:

Say one thing. Not three. If they care, they’ll ask.

Strip inner state language. No “I think,” “I feel,” “I just
”

End strong. Cut the sentence with your sharpest word.

Hold the silence after. If the point is real, it doesn’t need dressing.

Pre-check intent. Are you clarifying, shifting, or moving? If not, don’t speak.

Adjust per context:

In groups: speak only to shift risk, unblock motion, or redirect effort.

In reports: say what changed and what it means. Nothing else.

In conflict: state constraints, not emotions.

In personal: ask clear questions. Don’t tell stories that go nowhere.

Limit / Cost

Too much precision burns the room. Used constantly, it can feel brittle. Not every moment calls for exactness. Intimacy dies if every word is tactical. Know when to ease. Know when to stay quiet because presence matters more than clarity. Precision works best when held in reserve—brought out when the moment demands weight.