The first improv comedy show I ever saw illustrated the power of compression. The first skit lasted two minutes, then was followed by the same skit done in one minute, which was followed by the same skit done in thirty seconds, and so on. I think you get the idea. The process meant the initial two-minute scene with conversation, jokes, and movement was reduced to a final one-second scene where everyone looked at each other, then fell to the ground in unison.
I worry that this anecdote recommends the extreme application, so I'll clarify - if I were asked about the right level of compression for a two-minute scene, then I'd probably land on somewhere between fifteen and thirty seconds. I think that's how it should work in most cases - distilling down as far as possible might feel like a certain type of accomplishment, but I think the optimal compression would be something just above the bare minimum. I think this is an important point because I feel compression is an underrated tool across a wide range of pursuits - learning, comedy, and packing a suitcase are just a few examples that come to mind. It's an especially critical skill in communication, and I often find myself introducing this concept when I sense it may help another person improve their message. For example, last week I was helping a colleague write an email about an unusual and somewhat challenging problem. I read through the ten or so sentences in the first draft, then asked - if you had to replace this draft with only one sentence, what would you say? We took that one sentence, lightly edited, and made it the first sentence of the email. From there, it became obvious which parts of the first draft could be reduced or deleted, and in the end we sent out a short and sweet message, around four sentences long, where the main idea was clearly stated at the top of the email.
The idea of reducing everything to its smallest possible size has shades of a buzzword, perhaps coined by a malfunctioning ChatGPS deep in the bowels of the TedTalks-LinkedIndustrial Complex, but I think it's still worth making the effort just to see if you get anywhere with it. I know sometimes it's better to practice than to preach, so I'm happy to demonstrate my own commitment to the cause by trying a TOA version of this idea - "One Minute TOA". The point is to take some of my posts and compress them down to what I consider its point - most likely the idea, lesson, or conclusion I hoped to share with the reader. I'm not sure which posts I'll pick for these compressions but I suspect they'll likely be the ones best-received by readers or those that I worry might have lost its message in the mess of my writing.
What will such an exercise look like? Well, we can start with the post so far as an example. Here's the "One Minute TOA" of the above:
Compression helps with comprehension, whether that regards something in existence or yet to be created, and with improved comprehension we stand a better chance of finding the next step in our specific project, situation, or communication.
What I'm looking forward to the most about "One Minute TOA" is the likelihood that it will reveal where I actually don't understand my own work. I shared a few weeks ago that one unanticipated challenge of TOA is how writing about a topic sets a higher standard for writing about the same topic again (this sentence, I suppose, is another "One Minute TOA"). This is because the first post would cover my simplest thinking on the subject, which in turn leaves subsequent writing for dealing with the more challenging considerations. However, it's easy to assume writing proves comprehension, or that previously writing about a topic ensures I understood it at that time. The catch is that recognizing such flaws in my own work isn't easy if I just reread it. The task of compression takes this a step further, forcing me to state the essence of the work, so if I'm unable to do so then I'll know that the post was about a topic which requires additional thinking.
