Summary: Not every piece of text in technology is meant to be poetic or profound. Some are simply functional. One example is API error responses—machine-generated fault messages intended for developers. They’re not stories, they’re signals. And trying to extract a narrative from one is like trying to write a novel from a smoke alarm’s beeping. This post breaks down why that confusion matters in both technical writing and human communication—and what it tells us about how humans often misinterpret purpose.
Error Messages Are Not Stories—They Are Warnings
A standard JSON API response that reads something like { "error": "Insufficient account balance" } is not a short story. It’s not a weak piece of content desperately begging to be edited. It’s a flag. A stop sign. Its value lies in its function: telling the user or developer exactly what’s wrong, so they can fix it—fast. Trying to “rewrite” it as if it’s meant for interpretive prose completely misses the point.
Think of this in your own work: How often do we waste time prettifying things not meant for embellishment? How often do businesses try to make raw data “readable” or creative, when its burden is precision, speed, and clarity? There’s a cost in trying to overhumanize strictly technical content. It’s called confusion.
Where the Misunderstanding Creeps In
The mistake usually comes from applying improper context. A technical editor or a content writer sees the word “text” and assumes there must be human communication involved—that because it’s letters and lines, it must be crafted or rewritten. But data speaks a different language. Just because JSON consists of text doesn’t mean it operates by literary rules. This confusion costs time and introduces pointless debates. Instead of dealing with the problem (in this case, the low account funds), someone’s now trying to translate a blunt tool into art.
And there’s a bigger issue here: many organizations still try to assign form over function. Engineers and designers serve a different mental model than marketers. Treating all text like narrative dirties the interface between those two disciplines and slows down progress. What’s your team doing right now that should be driven by clarity but is instead trapped in complexity? Is there content you’re trying to “storytell” that should instead just work?
This is Where Error Messages Should Stay: In the World of Precision
Let’s strip it back. A JSON response is closer to a thermostat reading than a page from a novel. It belongs to the world of measurement, not metaphor. That’s its power. The phrase “insufficient account balance” is minimal on purpose. It sticks to Commitment and Consistency by delivering without room for doubt. That’s what good API communication should be. Short. Objective. Reproducible. If you’re a developer, what would you prefer in a crisis—concise truth or poetic insight?
Respect the container. In programming, words exist to transmit direct meaning under structured syntax. Rewriting them into softer forms not only invites bugs but also erodes the predictability software needs. Would you want your bank’s withdrawal failure screen to be rewritten as a “financial pause due to a resource intermission?” Or would you just like to know your balance is too low—so you can move?
The Bigger Meta-Issue: Misalignment Between Users and Systems
This isn’t just a tech rant. This is a window into how people misunderstand each other. When someone sees a message and asks for it to be rewritten into a story, they’re mistaking the tool’s job. That same error shows up in business when marketers process operations memos like ad copy, or when management rewrites code documentation for public relations. It’s a kind of scope creep, where the task jumps lanes without knowing it’s crossed a line.
By allowing each type of message to serve its intended role, limits become strengths. Structure keeps roles clean. That gives room for the human storytelling that belongs elsewhere—in onboarding, interface design, and product-market fit conversations—while leaving the surgical stuff alone. Too many organizations muddy this distinction.
The Power of Recognizing “No Story Here”
There’s deep value in seeing that something is not a story, and leaving it alone. In negotiation terms—this is the power of “No.” It doesn’t mean the conversation ends. It just means we’ve identified one element that doesn’t belong in the dialogue we’re trying to have. Let that be a green light elsewhere. When we say, “This doesn’t require any rewriting or clarification,” we’re not being rigid. We’re being clear. And that can feel liberating.
So the next time someone hands you pure data and says, “Can this be rewritten into something more engaging?”, don’t just nod and go along. Mirror the request back to them. Ask:
- “What job do you think this message is here to do?”
- “What would happen if we made this less clear, but more friendly?”
- “How would you feel if this failing system gave you a warmer tone, but didn’t tell you clearly what’s broken?”
That’s how you root the conversation back in reality. Not to kill creativity—but to protect utility. And sometimes, the most respectful thing you can do is leave functional text untouched and let it do its job.
#PlainCommunication #TechnicalWriting #DataOverDrama #APIDesign #MarketingClarity #KnowWhenToSayNo #SmartMessaging #ContentDiscipline
Featured Image courtesy of Unsplash and Chris Stein (RntP-d2cxys)
