What Do You Actually Do?

2 Apr

How to Explain Your Business So Clearly That Someone Else Can Repeat It

FROM ALAN BROWN’S MASTERCLASS INSIDE THE HOLT

There's a question that trips up almost every small business owner, solopreneur, and freelancer at some point. Not a complicated question. Just four words:

What do you do?

You'd think, after months or years of running your business, you'd have this nailed. But most of us haven't. And in a recent HoLT masterclass, author and business communication specialist Alan Brown explained exactly why — and what to do about it.

Alan's book, Million Dollar Words, is built around a deceptively simple idea: if you can't explain what you do clearly enough for someone else to repeat it, you're losing business you don't even know you're losing.

Here's what he shared with us.

It's not about the words. It's about the thinking.

Before anyone panics about copywriting or finding the perfect LinkedIn headline, Alan was clear from the off: this isn't really about language. It's about how you think before the language shows up.

"If the thinking isn't clear, the words won't be."

And the thinking he's talking about isn't a quick 10-minute job on your phone. It requires slowing down, sitting with the question properly, and doing something that feels uncomfortable in a culture obsessed with speed and productivity: thinking as an act of work.

"Thinking is doing," he said. "Thinking is not procrastination. Procrastination is going and spending two hours on Canva doing a logo you don't need."

If you get the thinking right, the words start to follow. Not perfectly — not in one session — but they start to move in the right direction.

The real test: can someone else say it?

Here's the thing most people miss. It's not enough that you know what you do. It's not even enough that the person you're talking to understands in the moment.

The real question is: can they repeat it to someone else?

"People need to be able to carry it with them," Alan explained. "So that they can say, there's someone I know who does XYZ. Because it's really clear what you do, and what problem you solve."

If they can't repeat it, it doesn't travel. It stays with you — and what's the point of that? You're not explaining yourself for your own benefit.

And the consequences of an unclear explanation aren't loud and obvious. They're quiet. You don't see the conversations that don't happen. The introductions that don't get made. The referrals that don't materialise. The opportunities that don't form in your favour.

That's what Alan calls the quiet consequences — and they're easy to overlook precisely because you're not in the room when they're not happening.

Why we get it wrong (most of us hit all three)

Alan identified three common traps, and the uncomfortable truth is that most people fall into all of them simultaneously.

1. You're too close to what you do. You know too much. It becomes almost impossible to be objective about your own work, which means you start assuming the person you're talking to already understands things they really don't. This is especially common in technical or specialist fields — but it happens everywhere.

2. You're trying to sound clever. There's a pull towards professional-sounding language. Elevated vocabulary. Impressive phrasing. But clarity and simplicity can feel exposing — like, is that it? And the answer is yes, actually. That's it. Fancy language might feel more credible, but if it makes someone think "what does that mean?", you've already lost them.

3. You're saying too much. When you try to say everything, nothing lands. There's so much you want to communicate about your work, your approach, your values — but the person listening is making a quick calculation: is this relevant to me or someone I know? Help them make it fast. Pick the thing that really matters and let that lead.

The 8-year-old test

This is Alan's practical benchmark — and it gets misunderstood, so it's worth being precise about what it actually means.

Could you explain what you do to an 8-year-old child in language they'd understand, clearly enough that they could repeat it to someone else?

This is not about dumbing down your work. It's about removing assumptions. No industry jargon. No shared language. No context the listener might not have. Just: can someone with zero background in your field understand what you do and pass it on?

"Most importantly, without you there. No correction, no second explanation. That is the absolute gold standard."

It's hard to achieve. Alan acknowledged that even he doesn't always manage it. But it's the right thing to be aiming for.

Two examples. Spot the difference.

Alan gave two versions of the same kind of business description. See which one you think survives being repeated:

"I help businesses optimise their online presence."

vs.

"I help local businesses get more calls."

Both are roughly about the same thing. But one sounds professional and says very little. The other is specific, simple, and immediately raises a question you actually want to be asked: how do you do that?

That's the goal. Not "what does that mean?" — which closes a conversation. But "how do you do that?" — which opens one. That's an interest question. That's a buying question.

And to drive home the point about what doesn't work, Alan read this aloud (twice, deliberately):

"I help purpose-led organisations unlock sustainable, scalable growth."

It sounds like something out of a CV. And you won't remember it five minutes later.

The four lenses

Once you've written down what you do — ideally on paper, with a pen — Alan suggested looking at it through four questions:

What is it? What do you literally, actually do? Strip away everything else and start there.

Who is it for? Be real about this. Don't niche so tightly that you exclude people who might benefit or refer you — but do be clear about who you're actually speaking to.

What changes? What's the transformation? What's different for someone after working with you?

Which means that...? This is Alan's favourite phrase — and the moment you say "which means that," you're forced to talk about the customer's experience rather than your service. It shifts the focus from what you do to what they get.

Try it with your current description. You might be surprised how quickly it reveals what's missing.

A word on AI

Alan uses AI. He said so. But he also made a point worth sitting with: when it comes to working out how to explain yourself, using AI to generate options from a list isn't the answer.

"Is it yours? If you just pick from a list, is that you — on a page, or when you're saying it?"

The process of working this out yourself, of thinking it through properly, is part of what makes the result authentic. And right now, authenticity is more valuable than ever — because people can increasingly sense when something's been generated rather than felt.

"You should have to work at this. You should have to think."

Put the pen in your hand

If there's one practical instruction to take away from this masterclass, it's this: get a pad and a pen.

Not because handwriting is magic, but because writing and thinking happen together in a way that typing doesn't quite replicate. When you write by hand, you slow down. You think differently. The blank page isn't an obstacle — it's waiting for your thoughts.

Alan's own habit: he starts every piece of writing this way. His book, written in three months, was built on two years of handwritten notes.

Write down what you do. Walk away. Come back in five minutes. Can you repeat what you wrote?

If you can't repeat it, it's unlikely anyone else can either.

To summarise the whole thing

Alan put it simply at the end: say it once, so someone else can say it again.

That's the aim. Not a perfect headline in an hour. Not a finished version by the end of a masterclass. Just a clearer way of thinking about how you describe your work — so that when someone hears it or reads it, it travels with them rather than stopping dead.

It takes time. It takes thought. And that's the point.