Translation isn’t just a matter of finding the right words. It’s a way of seeing.
Good translation comes from curiosity about a subject from multiple angles. Think about a good documentary. It doesn’t rely on a single voice or a pre-determined outcome. It is investigative in nature, spending time with the subject and with their neighbor, a childhood friend, a colleague, and even someone who disagrees with them. The result isn’t a cacophony of perspectives or a monolithic one that rose to the top. Its depth is held together by throughlines. By the time the story is related, it feels easy to understand.
That ease is earned, not imposed.
The layers of a good story are flattened when translation skips that work. Content gets chosen because it sounds right or travels well, rather than because it fits what’s actually there. Meaning is adjusted to meet expectations rather than carried alongside important contexts. The result can sound clear while still not being the whole truth.
Translation without flattening doesn’t aim for blanket coverage or perfect alignment. It looks for coherence with the essence. It allows contradiction to remain visible long enough to understand how it changes the story. By staying close to a subject's texture, proper translation creates language that feels natural, relatable, and trustworthy. Not because it’s simplified, but because it’s grounded.
When translation is handled with curiosity and care, ideas aren't just understandable but also shareable without getting lost in the process. That’s the difference between portraying something and translating it.