Our tone of voice

Welcome to Monzo's tone of voice guide.

This is a (fairly) brief overview of how we write. It's for everyone in every team, and it applies to all the writing we do, inside and out.

We've opened this up to the world as well (hello world! 🌍), because we want to be held up to the lofty standards we set ourselves here. We believe in everything we've said, so if you see us falling short then please let us know.

The words we put on screen and paper are one of the most important ways we have of showing people what we stand for. Not just our marketing, but all our terms and conditions, every chat with us, all the nooks and crannies in our app, and how we communicate with each other on the inside. Every word adds up to people's perception of who we are.

And if the way we communicate confuses, frustrates or scares them, we can lose their hard-earned trust in seconds. It's especially important when we're dealing with sensitive subjects, difficult topics or technical stuff. Those are the moments of truth when people will decide if we're really transparent, and if we really have their best interests at heart.

So every word matters. Every word is a chance for us to make a connection with someone, go beyond what they'd expect from a bank and brighten their day. (If that sounds unrealistic, check out some of the customer feedback we get to see the difference we make when we get it right.)

Good writing is empathetic. Thinking carefully about the people you're writing to, and understanding how they feel and what they need from us, shouldn't feel like a tick-box exercise – it should be something you put thought into every time. So if you've got a really good reason to veer off the path we've put here, go for it.

Plus, we don't want everyone to write like a bunch of drones. Monzo writing should have a family feel, like you can tell it's come from people with the same values, but it shouldn't feel like one person. Because it's not, and that's a bit weird.

You're here because you're smart, caring, thoughtful people. We trust you to do the right thing to help our users (and each other).

Things change pretty fast around here. If there's a topic we need to cover, or an example that needs updating, talk toHarry Ashbridge.

We're friendly people, and we don't want to come across like a cold, faceless organisation. So use the kind of language you'd use if you were talking with the person you're writing to, and avoid business-speak.

The best test for this is to read what you've written out loud. Does it sound like the kind of thing you'd actually say? If not, some of the words below might be the culprit.

Hello "there", thanks for your message!

You don't need to opt out. The basis of open banking is that you can choose which services you opt in to.

In other words, you need to give explicit permission to those services to access your data, otherwise they can't.

You can find out more about how we use your data in ourPrivacy Notice 👍

The Romans arrived in Britain a couple of thousand years ago, and brought Latin with them. Local tribal leaders had to learn Latin, or else. So they did, and Latin became the language of religion and administration — which is why the words ‘religion' and ‘administration' come from Latin.

Even after the Romans left, that Latin stuck around. The top of society used it as a way to separate themselves from the common folk who couldn't understand it. It was a way of saying: ‘We know something you don't.'

Latin seeped into the foundations of legal writing (there's still a lot of it there today). And legal writing became the basis of all business writing, because writing was time-consuming and difficult at first, and you only bothered to write something down if it was important — like a contract.

So what we traditionally think of as professional language is essentially words that have a Latin root. Words we'd almost never say out loud, but which we write when we're trying to sound business-like.

And what we're unconsciously doing is perpetuating that idea that ‘we know something you don't'. But rather than making us sound smarter or more ‘professional', it makes us sound cold and distant.

When we’re writing, we tend to swap out verbs for nouns. That’s because nouns are seen as fancier and more professional. Verbs are action or doing words, like ‘decide’ or ‘analyse’. And nouns are naming words, like ‘decision’ or ‘analysis’.

But the two main types are common nouns and proper nouns.

Common nouns name people, places and things, like ‘town’ or ‘boy’. We don’t capitalise them unless they start a sentence. Proper nouns are the names of specific people, places and things, like ‘England’ or ‘William Shakespeare’. And we should always capitalise them.

We naturally use more verbs than nouns when we talk, because language is all about doing things. So we should do that when we write as well. See how it makes our writing shorter, too?

The psychologist and linguist Steven Pinker has an idea called ‘the curse of knowledge'.

He says that the more expert you are in something technical, and the more you're surrounded by experts in the same thing, the harder it is to bridge the gap to what non-expert people can understand. You know it inside out, so you assume too much knowledge on behalf of other people. That's something we can all fall victim to — so watch out!

Keep an eye out for terminology that we use all the time, but which might not quite be clear to people outside Monzo (or even new people just starting out here).

When we say ‘terminal' do we mean ‘card machine'? When we say ‘funds' do we mean ‘money'? When we say ‘reversal' do we mean ‘refund'? And if not, do we explain why?

We can't get around the fact that sometimes we have to use technical language, and that some terms have nuanced meanings (like ‘refund' versus ‘reversal'). But we can always be precise about exactly what we mean, and help out people who aren't familiar with the subject.

When you buy something in a shop or take out cash, the merchant asks us to create an 'authorisation', which is when we update your balance in your app — but the money hasn't actually moved yet.

In most cases the merchant will then send a follow up message to collect the money (called a ‘presentment') based on that authorisation. This can take up to a week but usually happens within 48 hours. This is when banks have always updated statements, and why it can take a few days for transactions to appear in traditional bank statements.

Sometimes we worry that writing clearly and simply can mean we lose authority, especially when we're dealing with serious topics. That's largely because of how business English has developed, and it's just what we're used to. When companies get serious, their language gets formal. It's how you know this is A Big Deal.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Being serious isn't the same as being formal. That's the crucial difference between content (what we say) and tone (how we say it).

In 2010, US attorney Sean Flammer ran an experiment. He asked 800 circuit court judges to side with either a traditional ‘legalese' argument, or one in what he called ‘plain English'.

The judges overwhelmingly preferred the plain English version (66% to 34%), and that preference held no matter their age or background. Here's an interesting extract from Flammer's findings:

The results indicate that the participants found the Legalese passage to be less persuasive than the Plain English version. The respondents also believed the Plain English author was more believable, better educated, and worked for a prestigious law firm.

So it's not just about credibility. Explaining yourself clearly makes you look smart, too 💅

Put yourself in your reader's shoes when you're writing; what are they going to be most interested in? We're often tempted to explain why we've done something before we tell people what the thing actually is — especially if it's bad news or an uncomfortable message. But if your first question is what does my reader really need to know, then you can't go wrong. Are they more interested in the process we took to decide something, or how that decision affects them? (Hint: it's almost always the latter.) That doesn't mean we shouldn't explain our reasons, it just means we should explain what the impact is first. (And once you've decided what your key messages are? Subheadings are your best friend.)

We believe in our mission, and we should be proud of what we're doing. Big up people's achievements and generally spread the love.

But as much as we want to be the best bank in the world, we don't want to get there by putting anyone else down. It's not the Monzo way to call out flaws, or to attack what anyone else is doing.

It's also important to remember that we wouldn't get anywhere without the support of the people who trust us to look after their money. Everything we do is for them, and they deserve a share of the credit whenever we celebrate our successes.

Let positivity ring through in your writing. The odd exclamation mark or confetti emoji is great! 🎉 But if we use them in every other sentence, they start to feel a bit forced and insincere.

The same goes for superlative words like ‘great', ‘lovely' and ‘awesome'. Sprinkled over our words they brighten everything up. But if we use them all the time, they start to lose their power. (If everything's awesome, then is anything really awesome? 🤔)

There's a funny thing that happens to our writing when we're giving bad news, or talking about processes. We slip into what's called the ‘passive' voice, which basically means we don't say who's responsible for something.

Like this:

That's not great for readers for a couple of reasons:

Here's the ‘active' version:

(This could also be ‘I've decided to close your account', depending on the situation. The crucial thing is that we explain who's responsible.)

Here are a couple more examples:

We use the passive voice partly because we're unconsciously distancing ourselves from the message. If we're closing someone's account, that's not a nice message to give, and we take ourselves out of the equation.

But that's not fair for the reader, and what they need should always come first.

There might be rare occasions where we deliberately don't want to say who's responsible for something, but we usually slip into the passive by accident — it's not a conscious decision. So we're not saying never use it, but make sure you've got a really good reason for using it if you do.

Add ‘...by monkeys' to the end of any phrase you think might be passive. If it still makes sense, then it's passive! Easy as that.

If you try the same thing with the active versions, they don't make sense. That's how you know they're active.

None of that makes sense, so these are all active.

Monkeys. Who knew? 🐒

We're a species of skim readers. We've got more to read than any humans in history, on smaller and smaller screens, with less and less time to do it. So as writers one of our toughest jobs is just to hold people's attention.

That's where subheadings come in 😍

Scroll through this guide, and you'll (hopefully) be able to understand the big idea in each section just by reading the headings. Then if you want the detail, you can dig in.

A heading like ‘Subheadings' doesn't tell you anything on its own. Neither does one like ‘What do I need to know about subheadings?' The trick with subheadings is to summarise the essence of what you're trying to say in one line, and then save the detail for the bit below. It's tricky, but your readers will thank you for the effort. Even if they only look at the subheadings, they'll still know the key stuff.

Don't be afraid of a few subheadings in an email, or a customer response. It's pretty unlikely that anyone will say: ‘Sorry, could you make this longer and more complicated please?'

Behavioural economist Daniel Kahnemann has a theory called ‘fast and slow thinking'. And there's a link to language that fits in nicely here. In brief:

You can't help answering a sum like ‘2 + 2' in your head because it's so simple. It promotes fast thinking, which doesn't take much effort.

Whereas you probably won't even try to solve ‘1604 x 7803' unless you're a math superstar. Because it looks like more effort from the outset, it promotes slow thinking and you're less likely to engage with it.

How does that link to language?

Big long dense blocks of text make you feel sad inside before you even get started. They're the linguistic equivalent of a difficult sum. (Think how you react to a page of A4 writing without any spaces in it...)

Whereas speeding down a list of short, sharp headings is a breeze, so you're more likely to stay engaged and pay attention. Subheadings (and simple language) promote fast thinking because they make it easy for readers.

Our advice on bullet points is pretty simple. Big lists of bullets are no easier to read than big blocks of text. So they should be:

If you find yourself writing marathon lists of bullets, think about whether you can group them into themes under different subheadings. And if your bullet starts to stretch into more than one sentence, then you might be dealing with a paragraph with a dot next to it.

Why? Because we’re all human and we’re all busy. Shorter sentences are easier for people to scan and quickly get the information they need. Plus, they’re more accessible for people who struggle with reading or have a cognitive disability, like dyslexia.

Studiesshow that 11-word sentences are considered easy to read, and those of 21 words are fairly difficult.Researchalso shows that when your average sentence length is 14 words, people understand over 90% of it. But at 43 words, people understand under 10% 🤯

The trick isn't to sit there counting every word you write. We vary the length of our sentences when we talk. So you'll see where you'd naturally pause or take a breath when you read it out loud. Reflecting that in our writing makes us sound more human, and helps with rhythm too.

Monzo is a welcoming community no matter who you are. That means we're inclusive in our language too. We can, and should, change our language to be more inclusive of everyone.

Obviously there's no place for anything racist, sexist or derogatory, but it goes beyond that too.

For example, it's pretty common to address a group of people as ‘guys', even if there are women in the group — but we think ‘hey folks', ‘hello everyone' or ‘hey y'all' is more inclusive.

We think about all the different meanings or associations words might have when we use them. In our technical work we use ‘allowlist’ and ‘blocklist’ instead of ‘whitelist’ and ‘blacklist.’ That’s because of the origin of these terms, with white being seen as ‘good’ and black being seen as ‘bad.’

Colloquial expressions (like ‘ain’t’ and ‘gonna’) and idioms (like ‘the elephant in the room’) might be harder for people from different cultures, or people with English as a second language, to understand.

So if there's a clearer way to explain an idea, that’s what we should use. And if someone uses a word or phrase you're not familiar with, it’s best to ask them to explain! You'll be helping them learn to be more inclusive in their communication, and helping any other people reading or listening who might also be struggling to understand.

As with everything else in this guide, if you're being thoughtful and compassionate then you won't go wrong.

It might seem pedantic to care about whether we say ‘guys' or ‘folks', but how we label things really matters.

Psychologist Lera Boroditsky ran an experiment in 2009 that makes this point really well.

She told two groups of people that they were in charge of solving the problem of crime in the fictional city of Addison. The scenarios were identical in every way except one: she told one group that crime was ‘preying on the city like a beast', and the other group that crime was ‘spreading through the city like a virus'.

The group who were given the beast ‘frame' were much more likely to propose things like more police and tougher sentencing. The group with the virus frame were much more likely to suggest social reform and education.

No matter how she rejigged the experiment, with groups based on people's gender, background, age or political persuasion, the beast and virus frames were the biggest factor in influencing how they responded.

We're much more susceptible to this kind of ‘framing' than we realise. And the labels we choose for things are often signals of biases we might not know we have. So being more thoughtful about the terminology we use is a great way to uncover and overcome them, as well as making sure we don't accidentally upset or offend anyone.

Emojis set us apart and reflect what we're like as people: colourful, friendly and open to new ideas. So feel free to use them, but please bear a couple of things in mind.

Emojis are best when they add a little extra flavour to what we're saying. They help clarify what we mean, and let our personality shine through. (And research suggests they make for more effective communication.)

But not everyone will know what they mean, so please don't use them to replace words. We risk confusing people if they pop up in the middle of a sentence. Some screen readers also struggle with emojis, which means we might make things tougher for visually impaired people if we're not careful.

Lots of people are using emojis, but they're still by no means universal. And they can provoke a strong reaction if we're not sensitive to our audience.

The best rule of thumb if you're speaking directly to someone is to reflect what they're doing. If their writing is emoji-tastic, then feel free to be the same. But if they're not using any, or if you're talking about a particularly sensitive subject or giving bad news, it might not be the best place for emojis.

If you're writing something for a more general audience, the same rule applies: think about how people will feel getting this news, and which emojis (if any) will help get the right message across.

As with all of these guidelines, use your own judgement. If you're always thinking carefully about how people will feel, you're on the right track. 👍