Before You Send That Announcement

August 22, 2026

Read Time - 4 minutes

We tell ourselves stories in order to live.

~ Joan Didion, The White Album, 1979

Our dean announced a budget cut to the whole college in a single email.

It was short and factual. The dollar amount. Why it was happening. Along with a reminder that we all needed to “do more with less” and a closing inspirational line about how we were still “punching above our weight class.”

Every word of it was accurate.

The numbers were there. But the story — the meaning — was missing. And by that afternoon the hallway had a better story. Which programs were on the block. Who had known for weeks. Which faculty searches would be cancelled.

Most of us have experienced a version of this. That’s the danger of skipping the story: people will write their own.

You only control one of the two variables

In 1945, Gordon Allport and Leo Postman gave the New York Academy of Sciences what they called the basic law of rumor. Their finding: rumors circulate within a group “in proportion to the importance and the ambiguity of this subject-matter in the lives of individual members of the group.”

Two variables. Importance and ambiguity.

Sit with that for a second.

You can’t lower the importance of a budget cut. People’s courses, their travel money, their colleagues, maybe their jobs. That number stays high no matter what you write.

Ambiguity is the only dial you have.

Our dean’s email left importance at maximum and ambiguity untouched. It answered how much. It never answered the two questions everyone in that building was actually asking. How does this change my day? And is the thing I care about safe?

Karl Weick spent a career on what happens next. In Sensemaking in Organizations he describes how people in an organization build meaning backward, assembling an explanation out of whatever cues are lying around. They don’t wait for the official version. They can’t. The mind closes the gap on its own, and it closes it with whatever material is available, which in most units is the parking lot conversation.

The story gets told either way. The only question is whether you wrote it.

Three stories leaders should tell on purpose

The celebration story.

A win isn’t just a fact. It’s a chance to tell a story about what matters here.

When you highlight a faculty innovation, you’re not just saying, “This person did something great.” You’re telling a story: “This is the kind of creativity we value and want to multiply.”

Without that context, people wonder if their work matters. With it, you reinforce the values and behaviors you want repeated.

The hard truth story.

Bad news is a fact. But without context, it breeds fear and mistrust.

A budget cut announcement without framing says: “We’re shrinking, and you’re on your own.” Framed as a story, it becomes: “Here’s where we are, here’s why it matters, and here’s how we’ll work through it together.”

The fact doesn’t change. But the story you tell either erodes trust or builds it.

The culture story.

Every communication — big or small — tells people a story about how your organization works.

When you open a meeting by inviting input, the story is: “This is a place where people are heard.” When you explain the “why” behind a decision, the story is: “We are transparent and thoughtful.” When you respond to mistakes with curiosity instead of shame, the story is: “We learn and grow together.”

People don’t just remember what you said. They remember what it told them about who you are as a community.

Owning the gap

None of this comes naturally to me.

I’m a taskmaster at heart. My instinct is to get to the next project, the next deadline, the next idea. That keeps things moving, but it also means I can blow right past the parts that matter most.

So I built rhythms that force me to pause.

Two handwritten notes a week. There’s a note on my desk reminding me. The fact is somebody helped. The story is: that was noticed, and it’s what we value here.

Shoutouts in the internal newsletter. The fact is somebody went the extra mile. The story is: we are glad you are here.

Personal news at the start of meetings. The fact is we have business to cover. The story is: our relationships come first and our humanity matters.

Listening coffees every semester. The fact is I’m making the rounds. The story is: leadership here pays attention to what you experience.

None of it is complicated. Together they moved my communication from updates to meaning, and that has shaped our culture more than any single memo ever did.

Try This Before Friday

The next thing you announce, add three lines before you send it.

Here’s what I know.

Here’s what I don’t know yet.

Here’s when I’ll know it, and I’ll tell you then.

The third line is the one you don't see often.

Bottom Line

Your people are going to build an explanation. That’s how minds work under uncertainty.

The only real choice you have is whether they build it out of what you gave them or out of what they overheard.

Give them better material.

That's it for today. Thanks for reading. I'll see you next week.

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