"Send Three and Sixpence. We're Going To A Dance."

“My apologies for writing you a long letter. I did not have time to make it shorter.” Variations thereof, have been attributed to writers as diverse as Mark Twain, Pascal and Cicero.

Whoever said it understood the speed of inaccuracy. The sluggishness of clarity.

Being clear takes longer. If it didn’t, eloquence would be less revered.

And because time is money, most people substitute expedience for the opportunity to be precise. After all, why do one thing well if in the same amount of time we can get three items off our To Do list.

Except, clarity provides focus that expedience never worries about. And focus is the key to being in business. And not.

When margins are razor thin, cash flow is week-to-week and credit is non-existent, you must be certain that everything you’re doing is leading you somewhere better. Because in this economy, the cost of not doing so will probably be fatal.

So stop.

Then find a way to get clear about where you’re headed.

Doing so will take much longer than feels comfortable.

The alternative will feel very much worse.

Today’s title, incidentally, was the urgent message delivered to the commander of a British relief column during Word War I.

Said quickly, it does sound very much like, ‘Send reinforcements. We’re going to advance.”

Stupid? In hindsight, of course.

The trick is to swap hindsight for foresight.

It's much less expensive.