Complexity creates confusion ...

We’ve all been there.

You start writing, and somewhere along the way, it stops being about the message and starts being about proving how much you know. The language tightens, the acronyms appear, and suddenly you’re building a presentation to impress the insiders - the kind of deck that looks clever on the surface but somehow drifts away from what you meant to say in the first place.

Somewhere between the second acronym and the third sub-chart, eyes glaze over and people start thinking about their shopping list.

The comfort of complexity.

There’s something reassuring about depth. The more layers we add - the models, the frameworks, the specialist language, the safer it feels. Especially when capital or credibility are on the line. Detail makes us feel equipped, like we’ve done the work.

But clarity has its own kind of strength. Have you ever sat in a live pitch and noticed that the more someone tries to sound intelligent, the more distance appears between them and their audience? It’s not that people don’t understand; they simply get tired of decoding.

Simplicity shows understanding.

Being able to say something cleanly often means you’ve already wrestled with the complicated parts. You’ve thought through what matters and what doesn’t. I’ve come to see simplicity as the moment when understanding finally settles - when the noise clears and the story makes sense from end to end.

When I write or design decks, I try to make the story portable. If someone can walk away and explain it to a colleague tomorrow, it’s landed. That’s when a message starts to travel on its own.

Why clarity feels good.

Clarity feels like trust. It lets people relax and listen. You can sense it in a meeting - that shift from polite attention to genuine interest.

As one of my clients once said, “Simple Business is Good Business.” I’ve held onto that line because it’s true in every way. Clear communication saves time, lowers resistance, and keeps good ideas moving.

Finding the right weight.

Every stage of a business has its own rhythm. Early rounds feel lighter - investors are backing people and potential. Later rounds grow heavier with evidence, data, and results. The balance shifts naturally.

What matters is proportion. The decks that stand out are the ones that deliver a convincing proposition, and feel right for the audience - confident without being heavy, informative without feeling dense.

The quiet power of restraint.

Every project reaches a point where you feel the urge to add one more technical chart, one more explanation, one more clever insight. Stopping there often takes more courage than pressing on.

Restraint doesn’t limit expertise; it reveals control. It shows that the thinking is solid enough to stand on its own. People sense that, even if they can’t explain why.

Closing thoughts.

Simplicity isn’t about perfection. It’s about care for the reader, the listener, the investor or even the lender who is reading your proposition. It’s about making sure the meaning comes through cleanly, without friction.

Most of us don’t aim to be complicated. It just happens when we’re trying to show everything at once. But once the noise clears, the real story is always easier to tell - and far more likely to be remembered. I almost forgot to say, and this goes without saying - at the end of the day, people are investing in you, the presentation you deliver will help you communicate your proposition clearly, but the most important piece in all of this is you.

Clarity wins quietly, every time.

We don’t write to go viral. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably already heard of Decksadu. These essays are simply a place to think out loud - about the art of turning ideas into funds that help extraordinary people build exceptional businesses.