The value of the one-pager

I got a call from my boss telling me I needed to be downstairs in 15 minutes to brief a visiting minister who had a meeting with the Indian government. Someone was sick, and I was the last resort (he didn’t actually use those words — he was far too kind). There were two problems with this. Firstly, I wasn’t exactly dressed for a ministerial briefing. I’ve never been much of a suited-and-booted type, preferring a “Casual Monday-Thursday” approach, with Fridays veering towards something more appropriate at a beach resort. But that was the least of my worries. The second issue? I had no idea what the minister wanted to know.

“Just tell him about the economy,” was my briefest of briefings. Okay … but which bits? It was only a 10-minute car ride. Do I start with the basics — the share of primary, secondary, and tertiary goods in the economy? Or do I go esoteric and talk about the impact of the monsoon on motorcycle sales? (There is a fascinating link there, but that’s a story for another day.)

The one-page life-saver

Luckily, it wasn’t Friday, so my chinos, button-down shirt, and slightly-scuffed leather brogues just about passed muster. Rolling down my sleeves and trying to look vaguely respectable, I headed out. Just as I was wondering if I could bluff my way through a conversation about GDP growth and monsoon patterns, a colleague gave me a one-page briefing.

It outlined exactly what the minister wanted to know: Australia’s key exports and India’s key imports. In other words — what did India want to buy from us? That was all I needed. With those basics, I had enough to put together some talking points in my head. Once in the car, though, it was a stretch just to get the minister’s attention. He was scrolling on his phone more than a high schooler, and I started wondering if the whole car ride would be a bust. Finally, he asked me a direct question — something along the lines of, “Will they sign an agreement?” That was well beyond my pay grade — and probably above the minister’s too. I fumbled for a response, mumbling something about it depending on what we had to offer, but that it wouldn’t be an easy conversation, especially when it came to farming.

From there, the car ride turned into an easy chat about overlapping trade interests, but more importantly, the sensitivities around certain sectors — particularly agriculture and India’s desire to develop its manufacturing sector with foreign investment.

Without the one-pager, we probably would’ve gotten there eventually, but it would’ve taken up a good chunk of the short ride. We wouldn’t have had time to get to the real material — the stuff you only say in person. The off-the-record, “look, here’s what’s really going on” type of information. The useful stuff. Not the mealy-mouthed pleasantries that usually go into official communications.

Think of the one-pager as the movie trailer. It’s not the whole story, but if it’s good, they’ll buy a ticket to the full show.

But one-pagers aren’t just useful when your morning routine is interrupted by a sick colleague and a stressed minister. They’re an essential tool in communication.

You know that beautiful 40-page report you spent weeks on? The one with the elegant charts, finely honed analysis, and the font you spent half a day choosing? Sorry to tell you — no one has read it. Maybe a public servant somewhere flicked through it out of interest, but that doesn’t matter much to you because they aren’t the decision-maker.

Know your audience

Your 40-page report might contain absolutely vital information for the decision-maker. But the thing about decision-makers is that they’re busy, so they rely on advisers to tell them what they need to know. Those advisers might (and might is doing a lot of heavy lifting here) read the executive summary if it’s from someone they know delivers impactful reports, but more often than not, they’ll put it in the “Read Later (i.e., Never)” pile. If you help them out by highlighting why it matters to their boss in a tight one-pager, you’ve got a much better chance of landing in the “Read Now” pile — and eventually, in a briefing for the boss. That can translate into a meeting, and maybe a decision going your way.

One-pagers also force you to focus on what really matters. It’s not just about saving time — it’s about controlling the narrative. When you hand over a 40-page report, people will latch onto whatever stands out to them (which might not be your key point). But with a one-pager? You decide what they remember and what gets passed up the line.

Think of the one-pager as the movie trailer. It’s not the whole story, but if it’s good, they’ll buy a ticket to the full show. Without it? Your report is just another DVD gathering dust on the shelf.

So, the next time you’re tempted to send a 40-page magnum opus, ask yourself: What’s the one thing they really need to know? Put that on a page — and you might just find yourself in the next car ride to a meeting that actually matters.