I’m in the eleventh hour for a contract and yet again find myself pulling together a product manual. Yes, procrastination (somewhat). But it’s not because I dislike it. I do actually enjoy writing these things - when I get started, that is.
This was a subscribers-only post but thought I’d share it more widely. Hopefully, it’s not as dull as those actual product manuals. ~JRC
The good-enough product manual
Why aren't they better? (hint: because they're hard to make)
First published October 11th, 2021
Ubiquitous. Impenetrable. Obsolete? The lowly equipment manual.
These instructional documents come with almost everything we buy and use. The more technical the tool, the more complicated the manual. Some of the most obtuse ones almost need an instruction manual - for the manual!
While these maligned documents go by various names - operating instructions, operator's manual, instruction guide, owner's manual - they all have one thing in common: they're mostly mediocre. And almost all are ignored as a result.
If we use them at all, it's to learn the basics. You know, like how to start up our new widget and how to not screw it up. But after that, most of us jump right into trial and error. Only when said experimentation comes up short, do we revert to the manual. And often, this pursuit is no less illuminating. Filled with technical jargon and even poor grammar, technical manuals are notoriously unhelpful. In frustration, most of us turn to online forums or "YouTube University" to get the answers we need.
Learning from this, some companies have started to forgo lengthy manuals. For example, almost any new computer these days will have a simple one-page start-up sheet - and that's it. I suspect there are still more lengthy old-school computer manuals online for these products. But I'm not sure - because I've never bothered to look. And I doubt you have either.
Recently, I purchased a fancy new soldering iron. It's tiny and yet powerful; all the big tech gurus are using this thing, so I had to give it a shot. And once I figured out how to use it, I was impressed. But boy, was it a learning curve - I had to basically go it alone because the documentation for the tool was some of the worst I've ever seen.
This thing is made in China by a Chinese company for the Chinese market. It feels like it entered western sales with little extra effort, with the manual being an afterthought - if that. What little came with the tool barely helped me turn it on. And navigating the software-controlled system via the two-button input is anything but intuitive. So I visited their website in hopes of more explanation, but to no avail. Eventually, I found several online discussions on the tool, which helped. These, plus a bit of experimentation, I had it heated up and ready to melt solder.
As I said, it's a great soldering iron, so I can't fault the company too much. It's hard to write manuals, period. Let alone in a language that's not your native tongue. (I'd be hard-pressed to write a manual in Mandarin!)
But I did write one in English just last week. And I like to think I write pretty good...I mean well. So my attempt at crafting a manual should have gone much better than it did.
My manual was for the pair of conservation research tools that I made for a contract. Nearing completion of these, I realized there were technical aspects that needed explaining. And since I wouldn't be hand delivering the items, it dawned on me that I needed to write my very own product guide. I was excited about the prospect - this was my opportunity to show all those other guide writers how it's done!
Given that the task would be easy (ahem), I waited until the last minute to begin.
It is a humbling experience trying to explain simple tasks like hooking up wires correctly. Imagine writing instructions on tying shoes - far easier to show than it is to write.
The same thing applies here.
And detailing all the “dos and don'ts” in a way that is not sleep-inducing defies me. I tried to use precise language and limit sentence length and jargon. You know, to keep it short, sweet, and readable. I even included a bit of dry humor in a few spots to liven it up. But these only did so much.
Realizing that my manual was far from perfect, I decided to put a little “lipstick on the pig.”
First, I branded my document’s titles with my signature font. And then, I included attention-grabbing symbols to call out important use & safety points. After designing a sleek cover and two well-formatted figures, I finally had it professionally printed and bound.
In all, my manual looks the part. And better still, it’ll serve the purpose. But it is anything but good design despite looking nice and reading well enough.
The take-home here is that, while manuals are boring, it's very challenging to make them exceptional. There are must-haves in one and this content is not Pulitzer-worthy material. But it’s essential stuff and must somehow be conveyed, for better or for worse.
Now, I’m not going to go out and read my backlog of manuals front to back, just because I appreciate them more now. But after creating my very own manual, I do look at them differently and will scrutinize manuals with different eyes from here on. And I have a new respect for those who write them - the unsung heroes of the "mostly" well-crafted equipment guides.
In a market where perfection is elusive, the good-enough manual might be one of the best technical achievements any company can make.
Until next time.
JRC
P.S.: I’ve actually read more manuals front-to-back than I care to admit. I geek out on new tools and love gleaning everything I can from the documentation. Where do you stand? Like them or hate them? Read them or toss them? Let me know in the comments.
Ain't that the truth, well written. I have found in some of the Chines Instruction Manuals the spelling
is so bad. You would think they would just use spell checkers.