There is a particular kind of meeting where everybody agrees, everybody leaves, and nobody can later explain what was agreed. It happens because the conversation never had to survive contact with a sentence.
Writing is a test, not a record
The value of writing something down is not that you can read it later. It is that you cannot write a vague idea clearly. The moment you try, the gaps announce themselves. Half of what we call strategy work is really just the discovery that a plan falls apart the first time somebody tries to put it into a paragraph.
If you cannot write it in a page, you do not understand it yet. That is useful information, not a failure.
How we use it
- Before the meeting, not after. A one-page brief circulated in advance replaces the first twenty minutes of every discussion.
- Decisions get a sentence. Not minutes, not a transcript. One line naming what was decided and who owns it.
- Keep the rejected options. The reasoning behind a no is worth more in six months than the yes.
The habit is the point
None of this requires a system, a tool, or a template. It requires the willingness to sit with a blank page for ten minutes before committing a team to a direction. That is a small price for finding out early that you were wrong.
