The longest memo I ever wrote was 47 pages. It was a comprehensive review of a department's policies, structures, recent decisions, and recommended interventions. It was thorough. It was well-researched. It included an executive summary.
It was, by every measurable standard, a failure. The recipient told me later they read the executive summary and stopped. The 45 pages of analysis behind it were never read by anyone whose decision the memo was meant to influence.
I learned to write shorter memos.
Why Long Reports Do Not Get Read
The audience for institutional memos is faculty and senior leaders. The supply of reading material for that audience is unlimited. The supply of attention is not.
A 40-page report assumes the reader has 90 minutes to dedicate to it. Most readers do not. They have 10 minutes. They will give those 10 minutes to whatever is in front of them and move on.
A long report, given 10 minutes, becomes a skim. A skim picks up the headlines and misses the nuance. The nuance was the reason the report was long. The nuance does not survive the read.
A two-page memo, given the same 10 minutes, becomes a careful read. The nuance survives because the memo was designed to fit the time available.
What the Two-Page Memo Achieves
A well-constructed two-page memo does four things.
It states the question. One paragraph. What is the matter, and why is it in front of the reader now.
It states what was considered. Three to five paragraphs at most. What facts, what context, what alternatives.
It states the recommendation. One paragraph. What the writer thinks should happen, and why.
It states what happens next. One paragraph. Who decides, by when, and what the next step is.
That is enough. Almost always. The instinct to add more is the instinct to demonstrate effort. The reader does not need a demonstration of effort. The reader needs a usable basis for a decision.
The Discipline of Cutting
Writing a two-page memo is harder than writing a 20-page memo. The 20-page version contains everything that could be said. The two-page version contains only what must be said.
The discipline of cutting is the discipline of judgment. Every sentence in the short memo has to earn its place. The writer has to make decisions about what matters and what does not, which is exactly the work the institution is paying for.
When I write a long memo now, I have a rule. The first draft can be as long as it needs to be. The version that goes to the recipient is half of that, and the version I let myself feel good about is half again.
The Audit Test
For chairs and deans who write a lot of memos, here is the audit question. The next memo you send, ask yourself: would the recipient be able to act on this if they read only the first two pages?
If yes, send the first two pages. The rest is your work, not theirs.
If no, the memo is not yet ready. You have not made the decision the memo is asking the recipient to make.
Both of those answers are useful. The first saves the recipient time. The second saves your own.