Clichés: Why They Kill Credibility
A cliché is a thought that used to mean something. These phrases became clichés because they were once good: concrete, visual, specific. Then they got used until the image wore off.
A cliché is a thought that used to mean something.
"Raise the bar." "Move the needle." "At the end of the day." These phrases became clichés because they were once good: concrete, visual, specific. Then they got used until the image wore off, leaving only the shell.
When you write a cliché, you are not communicating. You are borrowing the impression of communication. The reader registers that something was said. Nothing landed.
Clichés signal something worse than bad style.
The more serious problem is that clichés signal the writer hasn't thought. Every cliché is a substitution. Instead of finding the specific thing you mean, you grabbed the nearest available phrase. The reader may not consciously notice, but they feel it. The trust erodes.
"We push boundaries." Doing what? For whom? To what end?
"Passionate about what we do." Everyone says this. If you're actually passionate, show it. What did you give up to do this work? What problem kept you up at night?
"Industry-leading." Leading where? By what measure? Says who?
The test.
Could your competitor use this exact phrase without changing a word? If yes, it's doing no work. It isn't differentiating you. It isn't convincing anyone. It's occupying space that a real claim could fill.
Specificity is the answer.
Instead of "world-class craftsmanship," tell me who made it, how long it took, what they refused to cut corners on. Instead of "passionate about coffee," tell me about the morning someone drove three hours to visit a farm because they thought the altitude might change the finish. The specific detail is doing all the work the cliché was pretending to do.
Specificity is the enemy of the cliché. You can't be both at once.
Every cliché is a missed opportunity to say something true.
The other thing clichés do: they give the reader permission to stop reading. The moment someone reads "in today's fast-paced world," they know nothing interesting is coming. The opening paragraph is a promise. Clichés break it before the body copy can.
Cut the clichés. Not because they're stylistically bad. Because they're evidence of avoided thinking. Find the thought underneath and write that instead. It's almost always more interesting, and it's always more convincing.
If the copy problem you’re trying to solve is a business problem in disguise, that’s the kind of work Human Chapter does.
Get in touch →