This classic Sesame Street sketch aired in late 1974, when small children automatically would have known what the funny-looking black plastic object was. (Would today’s preschoolers know? Hmm.)

In case you haven’t seen this recurring skit, the googly-eyed Martians teleport into random scenes in the Sesame Street neighborhood. They encounter everyday situations and make sense of them based on what they find in their “earth book.” In other sketches, for instance, they figure out a table fan, enjoy a leaky kitchen faucet, dance to white noise on an old-fashioned radio, and meet Ernie and Bert.

I love watching the Martians work through each scenario. They’re not afraid to make mistakes or change what they’re doing. As Shunryu Suzuki once said, “In the beginner’s mind, there are many possibilities. In the expert’s mind, there are few.”

When we create a set of instructions, it’s essential that we return to beginner’s mind. Otherwise, we miss opportunities to help our readers. Usefulness, rather than publication, is the hallmark of tech comm success. When it comes to instructions, all anyone wants is to complete the steps and move along. If we fail to get inside that beginner’s process, our readers will be frustrated. That’s the last thing we want, whether we’re creating software help, a chainsaw owner’s manual, or home perm instructions.

So what happened with the Martians’ “earth book?” I ask because it’s leading them nowhere fast. How outdated could this thing be? What’s in that book to make them think the object in front of them is a cow, a cat, or a chicken?

That’s what makes the sketch so funny. Whoever compiled the book had no idea what was actually on earth. No SMEs consulted here, no sirree. When the earth book doesn’t help (which is just about every time), the Martians approach the situation or object as complete beginners.

They’re not afraid to make guesses or try a different approach. They don’t get frightened unless there’s a reason: an unusual noise, an unexpected movement, or a new creature. The phone rings, scaring the bejesus out of them, and chthunnnnng! up go their jaws. Much like the little kids watching this segment, the Martians simply learn as they go.

We, too, could learn as we go when writing procedures. In The Practical Guide to Information Design (2007), Ronnie Lipton notes that “the audience is different, and you’re not it” (p. 82). We may be very good at what we do, but we are not our readers. If we don’t remember that readers don’t share our experiences, our writing will fail. “Listening to the audience in any form suggests the need for a redesign,” Lipton adds (p. 82). It may bother us to hear that our work needs revision. But what’s at stake here is much more important than propping up our ego. Imagine that our readers are these two Martians. Would we want to hear back from their Earth mission that they mistook the brrrrinnngggg! gagdet for a variety of livestock? Talk about embarrassing.

Unlike the Sesame Street Martians, readers don’t have time for trial-and-error learning. They want to get done and move on. Going back to complete beginner mode, truly listening to what our audience requires, helps us give them what they need.

Yepyepyepyepyep.