Writing for the Scientists, Selling to the System: The Art of Multi-Stakeholder Messaging
A practical guide to translating one idea across audiences who don’t speak the same language – and still making it make sense... hopefully
It’s often said that most clinical trials don’t fail because the drug doesn’t work, but because it doesn’t work in enough of the people chosen for the study. In the same way, most ideas in life sciences don’t fail because the science is weak – they fail because the story doesn’t travel.
We get so used to speaking in our own dialects – scientific, regulatory, financial – that by the time we’ve explained the same thing three different ways, even we’re not sure what the central message was anymore. Somewhere between the paper, the pitch deck and the press release, the thread snaps.
I’ve been reading a lot about this lately and thinking about how to overcome it in my own work, where the goal is often to communicate complex technologies, new ways of analysing data, and novel healthcare possibilities that are so groundbreaking they can sound – to some – like science fiction.
The challenge isn’t just to make people understand what we do; it’s to help them believe it’s possible, relevant, and valuable to them.
Every innovation has to speak to multiple audiences: clinicians, payers, regulators, investors, patients – and sometimes all of them in the same wweek. Each sees the world through a different lens. And yet, the message has to stay coherent and can bend, but can’t break.
This is a guide for anyone trying to make one message travel across many worlds – how to stay true to your core story while adapting it to each audience that matters.
Why does it matter?
Innovation doesn’t sell itself.
(Unless of course you’re a silicon valley start up creating a secretive AI company and know some investors with very deep pockets – in which case, have at it, pile in. 
The rest of us have to communicate.)
In healthcare and biotech, “value” can look completely different depending on who you ask. A scientist may want methodological novelty and reproducibility. A clinician wants actionable insight and minimal disruption to their workflow. A payer wants to know what it will save. A regulator wants to see safety, compliance and traceability. A patient just wants to feel better, sooner.
The same dataset can mean “statistically significant signal” to a scientist, “cost-reduction potential” to a payer, “clinical differentiation” to an investor, and “hope” to a patient. All true, but filtered through different values.
When I first started working in life sciences marketing, I thought messaging was about getting everyone to agree on one story, but of course, it isn’t. It’s about getting everyone to believe the same truth in the language they understand.
That’s where the idea of a messaging ladder comes in – a way of taking one coherent story and reframing it up or down depending on who you’re speaking to.
Finding the core story
Every product, platform, or study has one unchanging truth at its centre. Everything else – the features, metrics, market positioning – ladders up or down from that.
Let’s take an example. Say you’ve developed a diagnostic test that can detect disease earlier through a new analytic method.
At its core, your story might be:
“We help detect disease earlier so people can be treated sooner and live healthier lives.”
That’s your north star. It’s not a tagline, and it’s not copy for a press release. It’s the essence – the human reason this thing exists.
From there, you can expand and tailor the message depending on the stakeholder, but it should always lead back to this central truth. If you start to drift away from it, you’re not translating – you’re reinventing.
A good test is to ask: if I stripped away the jargon, would this still make sense to a patient? If not, you’ve probably lost your anchor.
The messaging ladder
Think of a messaging ladder as a structured way to climb between the abstract and the specific without losing your grip.
At the top is the platform message – the big, emotional “why” that ties everything together. In the middle sits the value proposition – the rational “what” that explains how this matters to each stakeholder. At the bottom are your proof points – the data and evidence that make it credible.
You start with the big idea, translate it into what matters for each audience, and ground it with data that supports your claim.
If you’re speaking to scientists, lead with the novelty and reproducibility of your research – for example, you might say your approach reveals new disease mechanisms validated across multiple cohorts.
For clinicians, focus on patient outcomes and workflow benefits: explain how the same insight enables earlier intervention and more accurate triage.
For payers, turn that into economics: preventing disease progression, reducing downstream interventions, and improving quality of life at lower cost.
Regulators will want evidence that the system is transparent, validated and safe – so emphasise compliance, auditability, and clear chains of evidence.
Investors care about defensibility and scalability: position it as a differentiated approach addressing a significant unmet market need with room for growth.
And patients want hope over not hype. Show how it helps to understand and manage their health earlier and more effectively within the scope of the product’s approved claims.
Each version sounds different because it’s tuned to the listener’s worldview, yet every one of them carries the same underlying message – that earlier, more personalised detection and intervention can change health outcomes for the better.
How to translate one story for many audiences
Let’s take a simple example: a research breakthrough in understanding why some people are more prone to a chronic disease.
For a scientific audience, the story would emphasise methodology and validation: “Our study identified new biological pathways underlying disease susceptibility, confirmed across several independent datasets.”
For clinicians, you’d focus on practical relevance: “This insight helps identify patients earlier and tailor treatments to their specific biology.”
For payers, the value shifts to prevention and efficiency: “By improving risk prediction and reducing unnecessary interventions, this approach could save thousands per patient and lessen the long-term burden on healthcare systems.”
To investors, the same result becomes a commercial opportunity: “We’re addressing a large unmet need with a validated approach that bridges discovery and clinical application.”
And for patients, the message becomes human again: “For years, this condition has gone unexplained. We’re uncovering the reasons behind it so that people can finally get the answers – and the care – they deserve.”
It’s not about rewriting your story five times; it’s about choosing the right lens for each audience while keeping the same truth in focus.
Building the ladder in practice
Creating a messaging ladder shouldn’t be a solo writing exercise – it’s a team sport.
Bring together people from science, medical, commercial, and communications, and co-create it. Start with an agreed upon set of headline statement and key messages. This document acts as the central pillar or underlying foundation of all the different branches for your audiences.
I find it best to the start with the patient message first. If everyone in the room can agree on the simplest, most human way to describe the value, the rest of the ladder will write itself.
Then climb upward: what does this mean in clinical terms? How does that translate into payer value? What proof points make it credible to a regulator or investor? The order matters less than the consistency. You just want to avoid ending up with a patchwork of disconnected mini-stories written in isolation by different teams.
And don’t wait until launch to test your messaging. Even without a big research budget, you can still get meaningful feedback. Reach out to trusted peers on LinkedIn and ask how they’d interpret your value proposition. For patient-facing messages, talk to disease charities or patient organisations – many have Patient and Public Involvement and Engagement (PPIE) representatives who’ll happily review your tone and clarity.
Those small, informal feedback loops are often worth more than another internal brainstorm.
The coherence test
When you’ve built your messaging ladder, pressure-test it. Pick any proof point and trace it back to your core message. If it doesn’t logically connect, it doesn’t belong.
For instance, if one of your proof points is “validated in thousands of patients across multiple studies” and your top-level message is “helping people live healthier lives through earlier detection,” the connection is clear. But if your proof point is “we’ve filed ten patents” and your main story is about improving patient outcomes, it’s probably a distraction.
Coherence comes from connection, not volume.
Tone and truth
There’s a delicate balance between adapting your language and bending your truth. You can’t just tell each stakeholder what they want to hear. Every version of your message should be both true and verifiable.
Scientists should recognise their data. Clinicians should see their practice reflected. Patients should feel their experience acknowledged. Investors should find the business case credible.
Inconsistent messaging doesn’t just confuse people – it makes them suspicious. The moment one audience hears something that doesn’t align with what another has been told, trust erodes. And in life sciences, trust is the only currency that compounds.
Common pitfalls
There are four I see most often.
First, too many messages, not enough meaning. If you try to say everything, people remember nothing. Choose three core truths you want every audience to take away and repeat them until they stick.
Second, the data dump. You can’t data your way into belief. Evidence matters, but meaning sells. Numbers alone don’t persuade without narrative.
Third, over-promising. The more revolutionary your technology sounds, the more proof it needs. Ground your ambition in evidence or it’ll come off as hype.
And fourth, losing emotional coherence. If your patient message is full of hope and your investor deck reads like a spreadsheet, something’s off. Every audience still wants to feel something – confidence, excitement, reassurance – so keep the human thread running throughout.
A quick checklist for multi-stakeholder messaging
To build coherence from the start, ask yourself these questions:
What’s the simple, human truth at the centre of what we do?
What does that truth mean to each stakeholder?
What evidence makes it credible to them?
How should it sound to earn their trust?
What do we want them to do next?
If you can answer those five questions consistently, you’re halfway to a message that travels intact.
The storyteller’s dilemma
Science communication isn’t about dumbing things down – it’s about opening them up. The most sophisticated audiences still want clarity. I’ve yet to meet a scientist who prefers confusion to simplicity.
Sometimes, we’re so close to the work that we forget how miraculous it is. Translating your science into accessible language doesn’t cheapen it – it reveals it. And if the message doesn’t travel, neither will the impact.
There’s an old saying that you should explain your work so that your grandmother could understand it. I’d amend that slightly: explain it so that your grandmother would care. That’s the heart of good multi-stakeholder communication. It’s empathy, not simplification.
Closing thoughts
Every idea has to live in multiple worlds. In science, it’s a hypothesis. In healthcare, it’s a protocol. In finance, it’s a bet. In regulation, it’s a risk. In marketing, it’s a story. Your job is to make those worlds connect without contradiction.
The art is in coherence – keeping one story intact while helping each audience see themselves in it. That’s not manipulation; it’s respect. Because people don’t invest in ideas they don’t understand, and they don’t act on ideas they don’t believe.
The best message is not the loudest or the cleverest. It’s the one that travels intact from lab to clinic to boardroom to patient, carrying the same quiet truth all the way through.
Signal over noise.
Thanks for reading Signal.
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