Over the past 6 months living in Zurich, Switzerland – I’ve been flying the iQ Content flag here since December ’08 – I’ve often noticed this mural on the train from the airport to the city.

At first, I assumed it was just a curiosity, adorning the outside of an ad agency or some Googleish corporation, someplace that encouraged its hive of workers to invest in their own improvement.

My assumption reveals I’m a typical hive worker myself – or someone who’s read one too many Lifehacker articles – as this mural is actually an art piece commenting on the very same type of corporate manifesto I assumed it to be.

The artists’ message

“Fischli & Weiss How to Work Better (1991). Painted on the wall of an office building, the artists play with the motivational sayings and strategies of the huge corporations that rule our lives and work. The obvious irony and banal treatment here helps to make a break with the corporate and reclaim the language of ordinary common sense (courtesy Peter Fischli, David Weiss and Galerie Eva Presenhuber, Zurich)”

(Note: I’m not sure if the air vent on the wall is part of the piece or not).

The discovery of this hidden layer beneath the list really intrigued me.

iQ Content, along with other web standard bearers, have always shouted about avoiding jargon online – about reclaiming the language of ordinary common sense. Plain speaking is our battle cry. So why does this simple manifesto, seeming to do just what it says on the wall, disturb me a little?

Why I’m disturbed

Taken at face value, How to Work Better is just a reminder to stay engaged with what we do. As a work of art – casting cynicism aside – I think it warns us against over-reliance on gurus and manifestos telling us how to Get Things Done. If we spend all our time spouting aphorisms, no matter how straightforward, we’re not engaging with real insight or originality.

As an editor, I deal with this trick all the time. Language can trip us up even when we strive for simplicity. We fall into repetition, and repetition becomes jargon. It’s so easy for us to stop making sense – we get lost in the volume of a project and lose sight of the words on the page and the people who will read them.

Every page I write or edit for our clients is a struggle against this loss of focus, to maintain simplicity while keeping an eye on the big picture, to remind myself that the user’s objective is not to appreciate my words. If I’m doing my job, they shouldn’t notice them at all. 98% of the time, good web writing should be invisible.

Isn’t it ironic?

I guess that’s why I side more with the artists than the corporate gurus on this one. Working – and writing – well is a practice that can’t be nailed down in bullet points. Insight that comes from experience always trumps received wisdom, no matter how wise it may be.

Moved to a treatise on the written word by a work of art — not a bad way to while away a (swift, efficient) commute. (My ode to the wonder of the Swiss transport system is soon forthcoming).