Once upon a career, my first professional mentor performed his mission well. He defined what he expected of me, and held fast to the development criteria. My first lesson focused on writing a legal memorandum, framed within a reasonable five point layout:

(1) a short statement of fact;
(2) the issue or issues arising from the facts;
(3) the available alternatives, if any;
(4) a recommendation; and lastly,
(5) a rationale for the recommendation.

This framework provided excellent parameters for my work. The mandate that followed, however, turned reasonableness on its head, or so I thought. With an extended forefinger in the air, he forebode: “I will read only the first page!” The sad truth: some of my legal memoranda bloviated over multiple pages. Indeed, even a short fact statement could run beyond one page. When I questioned his one page mandate, he never wavered; but softened slightly: “I didn’t say the memorandum must be one page, I said that I would only read the first page. You can add all the riders, addendums, citations you wish, but I will only review them as the need arises”

My first effort involved a simple question, but my first draft extended several pages. As Plato opined: “Necessity is the mother of invention.” I commenced to edit, to prune, to tighten. In the end, I suceeded in molding the five points onto one page. My job depended on it! The revision time easily matched my initial research and writing effort, but the finished result confered a pleasing sense of accomplishment, for which I received an unexpected, but welcome, “good job.”

In that editting experience, a strange phenomonon happened. Not only did I attain the one page summary, but also I shortened its initial length by half in a better organized presentation. The one page memorandum became the cornerstone of my legal memorandum writing. Later, upon joining a corporation, my lesson learned permitted an easy expansion to the ubiquitous Executive Summary.