Just Say the Number: Why One Plain Rate Line Beats a Pricing Page Full of Waffle

There is a particular noise a British creative makes when asked about money. It's not a word, exactly. It's more of a soft, apologetic exhale, followed by the phrase "it really depends" and a paragraph so hedged it could be used to line a hedge.

I've made that noise myself. I've also been on the other side of it, as a client, squinting at a page of "bespoke packages" trying to work out whether I was looking at four hundred quid or four thousand. It's an unpleasant feeling, and it's not the one you want people to have while they're deciding whether to trust you.

So this is a short argument for a boring thing: put a number on the page. One sentence. Preferably in plain English. Then get on with your life.

The enquiry that starts with a wince

Here's a real-ish email, compressed from a dozen I've seen:

Hi Andrew, I absolutely love your work — the [project] piece especially. We're a small team and we're exploring options for a refresh later this year. I know budgets are tight at the moment and I don't want to waste your time, but could you give me a rough idea of cost? Happy to jump on a call to discuss.

Read that again. The client is already apologising. They've pre-emptively decided they're probably wasting your time. That's not a budget problem — that's an information problem, and it's yours to fix.

When someone has to ask "roughly how much?" before they can even describe the job properly, the conversation starts in a defensive crouch. They're braced for a number that will embarrass them. You're braced for a haggle. Everyone is being terribly polite and nobody is getting anywhere.

What "POA" and "from £X" actually communicate

Two of the most common evasions in the UK creative sector, and what I think they really say:

"Price on application." To you, this reads as flexible. To a client with a fixed budget and a manager to report to, it reads as expensive and unpredictable. The only people who routinely use POA are estate agents and people selling things they'd rather not price in public. It is not the company you want to keep.

"From £450." Friendlier, and better than nothing. But a "from" figure is a trapdoor. Everyone assumes they'll fall through it. The client hears £450 and immediately assumes the actual number is £1,200, and now you're negotiating against a rumour you started yourself.

What works better is a range with a reason attached — and a reason is much easier to write than a spreadsheet.

Before and after, same studio, same rate

Before. A pricing page with three tiers, five footnotes, a line about VAT and a sentence that begins "Every project is unique, so…". Length: 340 words. Enquiries: a handful a month, most of them tyre-kickers.

After. A single block on the services page, roughly this:

Most projects of this kind land between £2,400 and £4,200, depending on how many pages we're working with and whether you need copy written as well as design. That includes the first two rounds of revisions, the handover files, and a short walkthrough at the end. VAT isn't included — I'm not registered, so there's nothing to add.

That's it. Four sentences. No tiers, no spreadsheet, no apology.

Note what the sentence does. It gives the client a number they can take to their boss today. It explains the variable, so they know which lever to pull if the quote comes in high. It states what's bundled, which quietly kills the "and how much for extra revisions?" email. And it removes a nasty little surprise at invoicing time by being honest about VAT — a detail that matters enormously when you're hovering near the threshold and a client is adding up costs on a Friday afternoon.

The three things a plain price must include

A number on its own is just a number. A number that does some work for you looks like this:

1. A range with a reason. "Between X and Y, because of Z." The reason is doing more for your credibility than the range is.
2. A short list of what's in. Two or three items, not the full terms. Revisions, files, a call at the end — whatever people always ask about.
3. One line for the awkward bits. VAT, expenses, timeline, deposit. One line. Not a section.

If you can't write the range confidently yet, write a floor plus the reason: "Projects here start at £2,400, and the ones that go higher are the ones with more pages and more rounds." That's still a plain sentence, and it still saves everybody a fortnight.

The bit where someone asks for a discount

Once the number is public, the haggle changes shape. It stops being "what's your rate?" and becomes "can you do it for less?" — which is a much easier question to answer well. Try:

I can do £2,100 if we drop the second revision round and you handle the image sourcing. Happy to talk it through if that's more useful.

You've not discounted. You've unbundled. The rate stays intact and the client feels in control, which is the thing they were actually after.

And if the answer is genuinely no, say so cleanly: "That's below what I can do it properly for, I'm afraid — happy to pass on a couple of names if that helps." Nine times out of ten that's the end of it, politely.

Why this matters more in 2026

Budgets are tighter than they were, and the people holding them are more accountable. A marketing manager in Leeds or a founder in Bristol can't put "TBC" in a spreadsheet and hope. They need a number to get the project approved, and every vague pricing page is a small extra tax on their day.

Which means the plainest price on the page is quietly a competitive advantage. Not because you're cheap, but because you're frictionless. You've done a small piece of thinking on their behalf, in public, without being asked. That is what trust looks like in practice — and it's much cheaper than a spreadsheet.

So: pick a number, write a sentence, add the two caveats that actually matter. Then go and make something.