Why Emotive Language Weakens Your Findings
One of the misconceptions I see most often in workplace investigation reports is the belief that stronger language creates stronger findings, when in practice it often has the opposite effect.
By the time an investigator starts writing their report, they have usually spent days or weeks immersed in the case. They have reviewed documents, spoken to witnesses and developed a detailed understanding of the issues being investigated. In many cases, they have also formed views about the behaviour they have encountered, making it surprisingly difficult to separate what the evidence shows from what they believe the evidence means.
That challenge often reveals itself through language.
When investigators feel strongly about the behaviour they have uncovered, there can be a temptation to strengthen their findings through the words they choose. Descriptions such as aggressive, hostile, defensive, emotional, intimidating and unprofessional begin to appear throughout the report because the investigator wants the reader to understand the seriousness of what has occurred.
The problem is that those words rarely strengthen a report. More often, they create new arguments.
Take the statement, “The manager was aggressive during the meeting.”
At first glance, it appears to be a statement of fact. However, if we stop and ask what evidence supports that conclusion, the picture becomes less straightforward.
What did the manager actually do?
Did they raise their voice? Interrupt repeatedly? Swear? Point at colleagues? Stand up during the discussion?
Those behaviours are evidence.
The word aggressive is a conclusion drawn from that evidence.
The distinction matters because conclusions are open to debate. One person may describe the same behaviour as aggressive, another may describe it as frustrated and the individual themselves may insist they were simply passionate about the discussion. Once the report becomes focused on labels, attention can quickly shift away from the behaviour itself and towards whether the investigator’s description is fair.
I see this happen regularly when reports are challenged. Instead of discussing what somebody did or said, conversations become focused on whether they were really hostile, whether they were genuinely intimidating or whether the investigator has overstated the seriousness of the situation. Before long, the discussion is no longer centred on the evidence. It is centred on the investigator’s interpretation of the evidence.
This becomes particularly important when writing findings because many investigators worry that factual writing will somehow dilute accountability. There is often a concern that if the stronger language is removed, the seriousness of the behaviour will be lost.
My experience has been the opposite.
The reports that create the strongest accountability are usually the reports that stay closest to the evidence.
Consider these two examples.
“The respondent was hostile, aggressive and clearly attempting to intimidate the complainant throughout the meeting.”
Now compare that with:
“During the meeting, the respondent interrupted the complainant on six occasions. Two witnesses recalled the respondent raising their voice and one witness described the respondent pointing across the table whilst speaking. The respondent accepted that they interrupted the complainant but disputed that their behaviour was intimidating.”
The first example sounds stronger because it uses stronger language. The second example is stronger because it relies on stronger evidence.
In the first example, the investigator is asking the reader to accept their interpretation. In the second, the investigator is allowing the reader to see the behaviour for themselves and understand how conclusions may have been reached.
The difference becomes even more important when reports are scrutinised. An investigator who relies heavily on labels may find themselves defending those labels. An investigator who relies on evidence only needs to explain how that evidence was gathered and why it was given weight.
The same issue often appears with words such as emotional and defensive.
These are terms that regularly find their way into investigation reports, yet they often tell us very little about what actually happened.
A witness may have become upset whilst discussing a difficult experience. They may have cried, paused frequently or struggled to continue their account. Describing them as emotional adds very little. Describing what happened allows the reader to understand the situation without relying on the investigator’s interpretation.
Similarly, somebody may strongly disagree with an allegation, challenge witness accounts or reject the conclusions being put to them. Labelling them as defensive tells us what the investigator thought about their response. Describing their response tells us what actually happened.
One of the simplest ways to improve an investigation report is to ask a question every time a descriptive label appears.
Could I replace this word with a description of behaviour?
More often than not, the answer is yes.
Doing so almost always strengthens the report because it moves the focus away from opinion and back towards evidence.
Ultimately, a workplace investigation report is not an opportunity to persuade the reader that somebody behaved badly. It is an opportunity to explain what evidence was gathered, how it was considered and why a particular finding was reached.
The stronger the evidence, the less the investigator needs to rely on language to make their point.
That is why the most effective investigation reports are rarely the most dramatic. They are the reports that describe behaviour clearly, analyse evidence carefully and trust the facts enough to stand on their own.
At Tell Jane, we carry out independent workplace investigations and support organisations to strengthen their investigation capability through training, mentoring and quality assurance. If you would like support with a complex case or want to improve the quality of investigations within your organisation, we’d be happy to help.
