Here is a sentence. It is short. You read it fast.
Now read this next one: It goes on for a while, picks up a clause here, drops in a thought there, wanders off to the kitchen for a snack, and by the time it gets back to its point... you have forgotten what the point was.
Short sentences win. Not because they're simple. Because you finish reading them.
Nobody is reading your page
Jakob Nielsen studied how people read websites. In his research, 79 percent of test users always scanned a new page. Only 16 percent read word by word.
(That study is from 1997. Screens got smaller since then. Patience didn't get bigger.)
So your reader isn't reading. Your reader is hunting. Long sentences are tall grass.
The oldest style tip in the newsroom
In 1917, a high school graduate named Ernest Hemingway took a job at The Kansas City Star. The paper gave its writers a style sheet. It opened with: "Use short sentences."
Next: "Use short first paragraphs." The sheet also said to "eliminate every superfluous word."
Years later Hemingway said those were "the best rules I ever learned for the business of writing."
Those rules were written for police reports and hospital notes. Copy has the same job. Get to the point before the reader leaves.
Short is not the same as clever
Clever lines want applause. They make the reader stop and think, "Ooh, nice pun." Then they stop reading.
A short line has one job. It moves the reader to the next line.
Here's a test. Take a line you love. Say it out loud to a friend with a mouth full of toast. If they say "what?", it was clever. If they nod, it was clear.
Try it on one paragraph
Here is a before. (Invented example.)
"Our innovative platform leverages cutting-edge automation to help busy professionals who are looking to reclaim their time and streamline the tasks that tend to pile up throughout the week."
That's 31 words. It says nothing. It also needs a nap.
Now the after: "You have a pile of tasks. This tool does them for you. You get your Friday back."
Three short lines. A person can say each one in one breath.
When short goes wrong
If every line is four words, you sound like a robot reading a grocery list. The writing feels cold and choppy.
The fix is rhythm. Short, short, then one longer line that carries a full thought. Then short again. Read it aloud. If you run out of air, cut.
Apply this to your copy
Pick the first paragraph of your most important page. It doesn't need a new idea. It needs a haircut.
Count the words in each sentence. Split anything past 20 at the first "and" or "which." Cut every word that carries no weight. Then read it out loud once. Wherever you stumble, the sentence is still too long.
Keep one long sentence per paragraph, on purpose. Put it where the reader needs a breath of detail. Everything around it stays short. That's how you sound like a person and not a memo.