How to write emails that don't make people secretly hate you

You didn't mean it to sound like that. But it did. Whether it's a curt reply, an overly formal sign-off, or a "per my last email" that could turn milk sour, the way we write at work shapes how people feel about us – often without us realising. Here's how to communicate in writing with warmth, clarity, and zero passive aggression.

Image licensed via Adobe Stock

Image licensed via Adobe Stock

We've all been on the receiving end of a weird email or comment. The kind that makes you wonder if the other person has ever interacted with another human being. But here's the uncomfortable truth: we're probably all guilty of the same thing.

It's easily done. A rushed reply, a clumsy choice of words, a tone that reads completely differently on screen than it did in your head. So how do you avoid coming across as passive-aggressive, cold – or just a bit of a douchebag?

Why written communication goes wrong

In person, communication is much easier. You have an arsenal of tools working in your favour, from your smile and tone of voice to the little laugh that softens a difficult message. Strip all of that away and you're left with words on a screen, which have a remarkable ability to land badly even when your intentions were good.

Research consistently shows that people overestimate how well their tone comes across in writing. Most of us assume the warmth we felt while typing is somehow embedded in the text. It isn't. The reader fills the gaps with their own mood and their own history with you – all topped off with whatever kind of day they're having.

If any of those things are off, your perfectly reasonable message becomes Exhibit A in a case against your character. The good news is that most bad written communication isn't malicious, it's just careless. And careless is fixable.

The phrases to avoid

We'll start by looking at the kind of seemingly nice phrases that make you come across passive-aggressive. I'm talking about the kind of phrases that have become so loaded they're basically impossible to use innocently anymore. You know the ones...

  • "As per my last email" is the written equivalent of slowly turning to stare at someone. It says: I've already told you this (big sigh), and I am quietly furious that I have to say it all over again. Even if that's exactly how you feel, putting it in writing is rarely a good idea.

  • "Going forward" implies that whatever happened before was a problem that needs correcting.

  • "Just checking in" can read as chasing without wanting to admit you're chasing.

  • "Thanks in advance" removes the other person's choice and assumes compliance.

  • "As I mentioned" is a polite way of saying you weren't listening.

  • "Just adding my two pence..." signals false modesty. You're not adding two pence. You have opinions and you're about to share them at length. Even if the other person didn't ask for them.

None of these are inherently evil. Context matters, of course. But they're worth flagging internally before you hit send. Ask yourself: is there a warmer, more direct way to say the same thing? Usually, there is.

What to say instead

Thankfully, most of the above phrases have perfectly decent alternatives that say the same thing without causing offence. It's usually just a case of being a little more direct and human.

  • Instead of "As per my last email", try: "Just wanted to resurface this in case it got buried." It acknowledges reality without any fury.

  • Rather than "Just checking in", be honest about what you're doing: "I wanted to follow up on this – is there anything you need from me to move it forward?" You're still chasing but now you're being upfront about it, and you're offering to help rather than just keep applying pressure.

  • Instead of "Thanks in advance", try "I'd really appreciate your help with this" – it's warmer, and it leaves the other person feeling like they have a choice rather than a directive.

  • Ditch "As I mentioned" and just say the thing again. Without the reminder that you've already said it. Easy peasy.

  • And if you genuinely want to add your two pence? Just add them. Drop the disclaimer and make your point clearly. "I think..." is more honest and confident than hiding behind false modesty.

The pattern here is simple: say what you mean, assume good faith on both sides, and resist the urge to embed a little sting in your phrasing. Most of the time, a warmer option exists. You just have to reach for it.

The curt reply problem

A one-line reply can be efficient, yes. But it can also read as cold, dismissive, or passive-aggressive... depending entirely on the relationship, the context, and what kind of day the recipient is having.

"Fine" or "Noted", "OK" or "Sure" – these are all technically acceptable responses that can, in the wrong moment, feel like a slap in the face. The person on the receiving end has no way of knowing whether you're genuinely fine with something or quietly seething. They'll often assume the latter.

The fix isn't to pad every reply with hollow pleasantries. Nobody wants to wade through "Hope you're well! Thanks so much for this!" to get to a yes or a no. It's about adding just enough warmth to signal that you're engaged and not irritated. "Sounds good, thanks for sorting that" takes four extra seconds to type and reads completely differently to "Fine".

If you're genuinely pushed for time, a brief acknowledgement goes a long way: "On it – will come back to you properly later today". That one sentence does more for the relationship than a perfectly formatted but emotionally blank reply ever could.

How to push back, disagree or say no

This is where most people really come unstuck. Disagreeing over email is genuinely hard, because without tone of voice even a measured objection can read as hostility.

The instinct is usually to either soften so much that your actual point gets lost, or to overcorrect into a bluntness that reads as aggression. Neither works.

A useful approach is to acknowledge before you push back. Not in a sycophantic way... nobody needs "What a great point!". But genuinely recognising the other person's position before offering a different one. "I can see why you'd approach it that way – my concern is..." lands very differently to "I disagree because..." even if the substance is identical.

When saying no, lead with what you can do rather than what you can't. "I can't take this on right now, but I could look at it in two weeks" is more useful and less deflating than a flat refusal. And if the answer really is just no? Be kind about it. "I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I'm not the right fit for this one" closes the door without slamming it.

The over-formal trap

There's a particular kind of professional writing that mistakes formality for competence. It produces emails that read like they were drafted by a Victorian solicitor having a very bad day.

"Please be advised that...", "I would like to take this opportunity to..." or "Further to my previous correspondence..." Nobody talks like this in real life. So when it appears in an email, it creates a strange distance – as if the person you thought you knew has been replaced by a bureaucratic automaton.

Formality has its place. A legal document is not the same as an email to a colleague. But in most professional creative contexts, writing the way you'd actually speak to someone – clearly, directly, with a bit of warmth – will serve you far better than dressing your words up in language that sounds like you're filing a complaint with the council.

A simple test: read your email back and ask whether you'd actually say any of it out loud to the person you're writing to. If the answer is no, rewrite it until you would.

Re-read before you send

It sounds obvious. It is obvious. And yet... the simple act of reading a message back before sending catches an enormous number of unintentional tone problems. The question to ask when you re-read isn't "Is this accurate?", it's "How would I feel if I received this?" Put yourself genuinely in the other person's position, on a slightly difficult day, and see how it lands.

If anything makes you pause – a phrase that sounds snappier than you intended, a sign-off that feels oddly cold – change it. It takes thirty seconds and might save you a very awkward follow-up conversation.

And if you're writing something while genuinely angry or frustrated? Don't send it yet. Remove the recipient's address from the email, write your draft and save it, then walk away. Come back to it in an hour. The message will almost always need editing. Occasionally you'll realise it doesn't need to be sent at all. That realisation is worth every minute of the wait.

Sometimes, just pick up the phone

Some things don't belong in an email, and attempting to handle them in writing is how small misunderstandings become actual problems.

Anything emotionally charged, anything that requires real back-and-forth, anything where nuance genuinely matters... these are phone or video call conversations. The impulse to write everything down, so there's a record and you don't have to have the conversation in real time, is understandable. But it often makes things considerably worse.

If you're three emails deep into something that still hasn't been resolved, that's usually a sign the medium isn't working. Pick up the phone, have a five-minute conversation, and then – if you need to – send a short written summary of what was agreed.

Email is a tool. It works brilliantly for the right jobs and badly for the wrong ones. Knowing the difference is most of the battle.

To conclude

Write like a human but take all negative emotion out of it. Re-read like a critic. Send like someone who has to work with these people tomorrow. You don't want to burn any bridges. After all, you want your clients and colleagues to enjoy working with you. That starts with how you show up in their inbox.

We all make mistakes. We don't need to drastically change who we are. We just need to write with a little more intention and understand that words, and how we use them, matter. Master how you write emails and the rest is easy.

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