What The Economist Can Teach Universities About Storytelling

The Economist is one of the most successful publications in the world. It has millions of subscribers. It covers some of the most complex topics in economics, science, politics, and technology. And yet, its articles are consistently readable, engaging, and clear.

Universities produce content on similar topics — often based on the same research. But the results are rarely as compelling.

Here's what The Economist does that most universities don't.

1. It assumes nothing

The Economist writes for intelligent readers who may know nothing about the subject at hand. Every article explains its context. Technical terms are defined in plain language. The reader is never made to feel stupid for not knowing something.

Most university research communications assume the reader already understands the field. They use jargon without defining it. They reference concepts without explaining them. They write as if they're addressing a seminar room, not a general audience.

What to steal: The Economist's style guide requires writers to explain every technical term on first use. Adopt this rule. If your article mentions "CRISPR," "density functional theory," or "Bayesian inference," you need to explain what those things are — briefly, clearly, and without condescension.

2. It leads with the surprising

Economist articles often begin with something counterintuitive, unexpected, or provocative. A surprising statistic. A paradox. A question that challenges assumptions.

"The world is getting richer. So why are more people going hungry?"

This opening does two things: it grabs attention, and it creates a tension that the article will resolve. The reader wants to keep going because they want the answer.

University research communications typically begin with the most predictable element: the institution's name, the grant announcement, or a bland summary of findings. There's no tension, no surprise, no reason to read on.

What to steal: Before writing, ask yourself: what's the most surprising thing about this research? What would make a dinner party conversation? Lead with that.

3. It uses concrete examples

The Economist doesn't explain abstract concepts in abstract terms. It uses specific, concrete examples to make ideas tangible.

When writing about inflation, it doesn't say "the cost of goods has increased." It says "a loaf of bread that cost £1.10 last year now costs £1.35." When writing about demographic change, it doesn't cite a fertility rate. It describes a village where the school has closed because there aren't enough children.

University research communications often stay abstract. They describe findings in general terms, cite statistics without context, and never ground their stories in the tangible.

What to steal: For every abstract claim in your writing, find a concrete example. If your researcher has developed a new material, describe what it feels like. If they've made a mathematical breakthrough, explain what it means for a real-world problem. Make the abstract physical.

4. It tells you why it matters

Every Economist article makes clear, usually within the first few paragraphs, why the reader should care. It connects the topic to something the reader already understands or values.

This is the single biggest difference between good and bad research communication. Good communication answers the question "so what?" Bad communication assumes the reader already knows.

What to steal: After your opening, add a sentence or two that explicitly connects the research to the reader's world. "This matters because..." is a perfectly acceptable construction. Don't be afraid to spell it out.

5. It respects the reader's time

Economist articles are precise. They don't waste words. Every sentence earns its place. This isn't because The Economist has a strict word count (though it does). It's because the writing culture values clarity over ornamentation.

University communications are often padded. Quotes are included that add nothing. Background sections repeat information the reader doesn't need. Paragraphs are longer than they should be.

What to steal: After writing a draft, cut 20%. You'll be surprised how much better it reads. Remove every sentence that doesn't advance the story. Cut quotes that merely restate what you've already said. Tighten every paragraph.

The Underlying Principle

Everything The Economist does comes back to one principle: respect for the reader. Respect for their time, their intelligence, and their attention.

This is the principle that's missing from most university research communications. Not because universities don't respect their audiences — they do — but because the institutional culture of academic writing works against it. Academic writing is written for peers. It assumes knowledge. It values precision over accessibility. It's written for people who already care.

The Economist writes for people who might care, if you give them a reason to. That's the shift universities need to make.