0
TopicGroup

Blog

Why Your Proposal Writing Probably Sucks (And How to Fix It Without Becoming a Corporate Robot)

Related Reading:

Listen, I've been reviewing business proposals for nearly two decades now, and I'm going to tell you something that might sting a bit: most of you are absolutely terrible at writing them. Not terrible in a "needs a bit of polish" way. Terrible in a "did you actually read this before hitting send?" way.

Just last month, I received a proposal from a Melbourne consultancy that was supposedly worth $47,000. The executive summary alone had three spelling mistakes and somehow managed to spell our company name wrong. Twice. In different ways. These aren't typos, mate—this is negligence dressed up as professionalism.

But here's the thing that really gets me fired up: proposal writing isn't rocket science. It's not even particularly difficult. Yet somehow, 78% of businesses I work with treat it like an afterthought, something they throw together over a long lunch break with a template they downloaded from God knows where.

The Uncomfortable Truth About Proposals

Most proposals fail before they're even opened. Not because the idea is rubbish (though sometimes it is), but because the writer fundamentally misunderstands what a proposal actually is.

It's not a brochure. It's not a capabilities statement. It's definitely not your chance to show off how many buzzwords you know.

A proposal is a conversation. It's your opportunity to demonstrate that you've actually listened to what the client needs, that you understand their pain points, and that you have a specific solution that will make their life better. Simple concept. Execution? Well, that's where things get interesting.

I remember working with a Brisbane-based IT firm a few years back. Brilliant technical minds, absolutely shocking proposal writers. Their standard proposal was 47 pages long. FORTY-SEVEN PAGES. For a simple website redesign. The client brief was three pages, but somehow they needed 47 pages to respond to it. Mind-boggling.

What Actually Matters (Spoiler: It's Not What You Think)

Here's where I'm going to contradict what every proposal writing course will tell you: structure matters less than understanding. Yes, you heard that right. You can have the most beautifully formatted, perfectly structured proposal in the world, but if you haven't understood what the client actually wants, you're just polishing a turd.

I've seen proposals win with terrible formatting because the writer clearly understood the client's real problem. I've also seen gorgeous proposals lose because they addressed the wrong issue entirely.

The secret sauce? Ask better questions during the briefing process. Most people ask about budget, timeline, and deliverables. Fair enough. But the smart money asks about consequences. What happens if this project fails? What happens if it succeeds beyond expectations? What keeps the decision-maker awake at night?

The Section Everyone Gets Wrong

Executive summaries. Dear God, the executive summaries.

This isn't where you summarise your company history. It's not where you list your credentials. It's where you prove you understand the client's situation better than they do, and then outline exactly how you're going to solve it.

Here's a radical idea: write your executive summary last. After you've written everything else. After you've really thought through the solution. After you've considered the client's perspective from every angle.

I was reviewing proposals for a Perth mining company last year, and one consultancy opened their executive summary with: "XYZ Consulting has been providing excellence in consulting services since 1987." Immediate bin material. Another opened with: "Your production challenges are costing you approximately $2.3 million annually in lost revenue, and we can solve this problem in 90 days." Guess which one got the meeting?

The difference is stark. One is about them; one is about the client. One is generic corporate speak; one is specific and measurable.

Where Most People Lose the Plot

Pricing sections. This is where good proposals go to die.

Everyone gets so nervous about price that they either bury it at the back (hoping the client will fall in love with the solution first) or they lead with it (hoping to seem transparent and straightforward). Both approaches miss the point entirely.

Price should be presented as value. Not cost, value. There's a massive difference.

Instead of: "Our fee for this project is $25,000." Try: "Investment in this solution: $25,000, which will deliver approximately $150,000 in cost savings over the first year."

See the difference? One feels like an expense; the other feels like an opportunity.

The Technology Trap

Now, here's something that might ruffle some feathers: stop obsessing over proposal software and templates. I've seen people spend more time formatting their proposals than actually thinking about the content. You don't need a $200-a-month subscription to some fancy proposal platform. You need clear thinking and good writing.

Microsoft Word does everything you need it to do. Google Docs works fine too. The client isn't going to choose you because your proposal has interactive elements or embedded videos. They're going to choose you because you understand their problem and can solve it better than anyone else.

That said, Canva has some decent templates if you really need something prettier than Times New Roman. But honestly? If your content is good enough, the client won't care if it's formatted like a university essay.

The Follow-Up That Everyone Forgets

Here's where I see most businesses completely drop the ball: what happens after you submit the proposal?

Radio silence. Nothing. Crickets.

You've just spent 20 hours crafting what you believe is the perfect solution to their problem, and then you send it off into the void and hope for the best. That's not a strategy; that's wishful thinking.

Follow up. Not in a pushy, desperate way, but in a professional, value-adding way. Send additional resources that support your proposal. Share relevant case studies. Offer to answer questions or provide clarification.

I remember one Adelaide-based marketing agency that sent a proposal for a campaign I was involved in evaluating. Three days later, they sent through a news article about their client's industry with a note saying, "Saw this and thought it might be relevant to the challenges we discussed." Small gesture, massive impact. It showed they were still thinking about our project even after submission.

The Reality Check Nobody Wants to Hear

Most proposals fail because the writer never really had a chance to begin with. They're responding to RFPs where the decision has already been made, or they're pitching to prospects who are just gathering quotes for budget purposes.

But here's the thing: even if you know you're unlikely to win, treat every proposal like your business depends on it. Because you never know when that "lost" proposal might lead to a different opportunity, or when the client might come back to you six months later because their first choice didn't work out.

I've won three major contracts over the years from proposals that were initially rejected. The client kept my proposal on file, and when things didn't work out with their first choice, guess who got the call?

What Actually Works

Keep it simple. Keep it relevant. Keep it focused on them, not you.

Your proposal should answer three fundamental questions:

  1. Do you understand our problem?
  2. Can you solve it?
  3. Are you worth the investment?

That's it. Everything else is just noise.

And please, for the love of all that's holy, proofread the bloody thing. Get someone else to read it too. Fresh eyes catch mistakes that you've become blind to.

The Bottom Line

Proposal writing isn't about being perfect; it's about being compelling. It's about demonstrating that you're the kind of person the client wants to work with. Someone who listens, who understands, who delivers.

The best proposal I ever received was only eight pages long. The writer had clearly done their homework, asked the right questions, and presented a solution that was so obviously right for our situation that we didn't even bother getting other quotes.

That's the standard you should be aiming for. Not the longest proposal, not the prettiest proposal, but the one that makes the client think, "These people get it."

Because at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

Further Resources: