The Impact Edit: Can Your Social Sustainability Claims Survive a Follow-Up Question?
When we talk about social sustainability, we tend to reach for the same small set of phrases, worn smooth from overuse. Human-centered design. Community-driven. Equity. They are easy to align around.
But the longer I work in this space, the clearer it becomes that most firms don't actually lack a social impact strategy. What they lack is the infrastructure for that strategy to travel, to be tested, and to stay as it moves from design intent to delivery to post-occupancy.
Broad language sticks for a reason. It helps teams move forward without resolving every tradeoff up front. It leaves room to respond to budgets, schedules, and client priorities as they shift. That flexibility is useful, especially early on.
The problem starts when the language leaves the room.
At some point, the words are repeated outside the original team, to a client’s board, a community group, a procurement committee, or a journalist. The shared context drops away, and the language has to stand on its own.
That’s usually where questions surface. What did “equity-centered” actually change? How did “inclusive” show up in the unit mix, the ground floor, or the program? What would someone measure if they checked back in a year?
What reads internally as intention can read externally as false marketing.
The cost
The cost shows up in many ways:
Marketing, proposals, and project teams spend too much time reconciling multiple versions of the same story. Late-stage rewrites. Drawn-out reviews. Scrambling before submissions.
RFP language starts to read as interchangeable. And interchangeable loses work.
When project language doesn’t narrow decisions, every small question escalates. Leadership becomes the bottleneck by default.
What clarity changes
Clear language feels uncomfortable because it introduces constraint.
It means being explicit about who the project is prioritizing, what you’re measuring, and what tradeoffs you’re willing to make before the narrative gets written.
For example, saying a project prioritized family-sized units near transit and services does more work than saying it supports equity. It narrows decisions. It makes tradeoffs visible. It sets up questions that can actually be answered later. It doesn’t cover everything, but it holds its shape.
Once it leaves the firm
Broad language can carry a project a long way internally. But once it leaves the firm, it behaves differently.
If social impact language can’t survive outside the firm, it isn’t doing much work yet. That’s not about values. It’s about when and where clarity gets built.
If this feels familiar, I’d be curious what it looks like in your projects.
The Conversation Continues...
This post is part of our ongoing exploration into how vague language undermines social impact, and why specific, constraint-based definitions are the only way to ensure your strategy survives the transition from intent to reality. As problem-solvers, we believe the best insights emerge when diverse perspectives meet. Have you encountered similar challenges or discovered different approaches? Share your story.
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We acknowledge that social sustainability is always a work in progress. These insights represent our current understanding, shaped by our partners, communities, and continuous learning.