The proposal runs to twenty pages. There are four phases, each with a name. Your trade gets a mention or two, and it looks like a lot of thought went into it.
Now go through and mark everything you would actually receive, and when. Most of the time you end up with almost nothing marked.
Why they are written that way
Vague is the safe option for whoever wrote it. A promise to think hard cannot be missed. A promise of eight pages by the fourteenth can.
It also lets one document be sent to everyone. Swap the logo, change the industry, send again. That is why so many proposals feel so general about a business you have just spent an hour telling them about.
The words that are doing no work
Tailored to your needs. Everything is, or claims to be.
Best practice. Whose, and how would you check?
Discovery phase. Sometimes real work, often two calls and a document.
Ongoing support. No hours, no promise of how fast, no end date.
Strike all of those out and see how much of the document is left.
Four questions worth asking
What will I have in my hands at the end, and how long is it?
Who is doing the work, by name, and are they the person in this meeting?
What is not included?
What happens if we get to the end and I do not think it worked?
The fourth is the one that sorts people out. Watch what happens to the room.
Long does not mean careful
A long proposal feels like care and hard work. Often it is there to fill space, because that is faster than deciding what you are willing to be held to.
One page that says what you get, what it costs, how long it takes and what is excluded is a harder document to write. It is also the one you can hold somebody to.
That cuts both ways, and it should. Anyone selling you something ought to be willing to write it down.
