I was halfway through writing a piece on creep resistance in aramid yarns when my dog started barking. Again. At nothing.
The interruption was irritating but familiar. A lot like a badly written technical article, actually: you can hear the noise, but you’re not sure what it wants from you.
And that’s the thing. Technical writing doesn’t need to shout; it doesn’t need to prove anything. It just needs to be clear.
The goal isn’t to simplify the science
The people I write for (engineers, AI leads, chemists, energy innovators, and boffins in general) don’t need the basics explained. They need information framed in a way that aligns with their function.
A CTO doesn’t want the same detail as a design engineer. A procurement manager doesn’t care about modulus curves unless they affect cost or compliance. Technical writing only works when you know who you’re speaking to and what they actually care about.
So start with context.
– Who’s going to read this?
– What do they already know?
– What’s the one thing they need to take away?
The best structure disappears
Good writing is more architecture than art. If the structure holds, everything else becomes easier for both the writer and the reader.
So before I get clever with turns of phrase or punchy openers, I build a frame. I put the most important idea up front. I avoid burying the lead under layers of background, qualifiers, and context the reader didn’t ask for.
If your most useful insight is sitting in the fourth paragraph, you’re probably wasting your time writing the piece, because they’re not going to read that far.
Technical doesn’t mean dense
There’s no prize for using bigger words. No reader is grateful for a sentence they need to decode… We’re not writing encrypted messages here.
Precision is important, especially in fields like AI and engineering. But clarity doesn’t cancel it out. You can say something meaningful at the same as saying it simply.
“Aramid reinforcement improves durability without adding weight.”
That’s not dumbed down. It’s just clear. And in a page full of complex information, a sentence like that gives the reader room to breathe.
Watch your tone
Tone isn’t just about style. It’s about trust.
If the piece sounds defensive, academic, automated, or (most recently) AI-generated, it’s less likely to land, no matter how strong the data is. Aim for a tone that’s informed but grounded, direct and authoritative but not sharp or “know-it-all-y, and most importantly, human but never fluffy.
That usually means cutting a paragraph. Reordering a sentence. Swapping “utilise” for “use.” Finding the shortest route to the right idea.
It’s invisible work. But it’s the part that makes people keep reading.
Final thought
Good technical writing shouldn’t aim to make things sound clever. It should aim to make them clear. Because that’s what connects, whether you’re explaining AI systems, polymer design, or load-bearing materials in offshore cables.
That’s what I do. Every day. Quietly. (Well, loudly sometimes, because the dog’s probably barking.)
