We all live in bubbles.

I don’t suggest that as a jab, but naming a truth that reflects our modern human experience. The jobs we take, the neighborhoods we choose, the circles we run in. Even if it’s an eclectic mixture of people and ideas, it is still a bubble. And for most working adults in the westernized world, our biggest bubble is work itself. Between the job, the commute, and the mental real estate work consumes even when we’re “off,” we spend roughly 80% of our waking weekday hours inside that one bubble.

So it’s no surprise we develop a shared, collective shorthand in there. Our own colloquialisms. Our own way of talking about the things we care about. That is just what happens when a group of humans spend that much time in one place (virtual or in person) doing work together.

But it’s also why we easily forget that most folks outside our bubble don’t understand the language of our bubble. Our brain preferences shortcuts, and the language of our bubble is indeed a familiar shortcut. It’s likely why most people forget — or recoil at the suggestion — that precise and clear language is a wise and feasible way to engage people outside our bubble and actually bring them with us.

That was the heart of what I shared last month with a room full of higher ed leaders, drawing on messaging and narrative research we analyzed. The sector has built a strong internal language for talking about student success. But strong internal language generally doesn’t work when you need to have external impact. Shared shorthand and language that is sticky enough to travel are two very different things. If we want people inside and outside the sector to understand why student success strategies matter, we have to translate, not just be louder with insider shorthand.

IHEP, the Institute for Higher Education Policy, wrote more about the event and included some takeaways from my keynote here.