The editor searches for every adverb. Four hundred and twelve results.

She removes very, really and incredibly. Good riddance. Then she reaches “walked quietly past the sleeping child”. The approved rule says an adverb signals a weak verb. The available alternatives—crept, tiptoed, sneaked—add intentions the sentence never claimed. Walked quietly stays.

Next comes passive voice. “The payment was taken twice.” The customer cares about the duplicated charge. The company would prefer the sentence to remain actor-free. Here the editor changes it: “We took the payment twice.” Same grammar lesson, opposite decision.

She shortens a page of dense instructions. After twelve clipped sentences, the paragraph sounds like hail against glass. Two sentences are joined. A third gains a conjunction at the beginning, risking immediate arrest by the School Rules Police.

By mid-afternoon, each commandment has prompted one excellent edit and one small absurdity. That seems a fair return. A writer can use rules to notice weak verbs, buried responsibility, overloaded sentences and stale phrases. Trouble starts when obedience replaces reading.

The final paragraph starts with and, includes an adverb and uses the passive. It also tells the customer exactly what happened, who will fix it and when their money returns.

The automated checker gives it 62 out of 100. The customer replies, “Thanks, that’s clear.” Both scores are entered in the review.

Behavioural principles

Behavioural ideas at play in this post

Short, plain-English explanations of the principles behind this post, with links to related books and examples in the archive.