Reports & Outcomes

Who Reads an Assessment Report — What Each Reader Told Me They Look For

· By Ian Vardy, CEO, Soma Health

One document, four or five audiences, and each one opens it to a different page. Here is what families, teachers, referring physicians, funders and future clinicians told me they look for first — and why writing for all of them at once is a genuinely hard problem.

An assessment report typically serves four or five readers at once — the family, the school, sometimes a referring physician or a funder, and often a future clinician opening the file years later. Each opens it to a different page and wants a different thing, and none of them reads it front to back.

I'm not a clinician. What I've done is ask people on both sides — the psychologists who write these and the people who receive them — what they actually look for. The answers were more consistent than I expected, and they explain a lot about why these documents are hard to write.

Two professionals reviewing a clipboard together in a modern office

One document, and nobody starts on page one.

The family

They look for: what this means for their child, and what happens next.

Families told me they go to the summary and the recommendations, in that order, and often stop there. The middle of the document — the numbers — gets skimmed and then returned to later, usually with a specific worry attached to one figure.

What clinicians said they'd add if they had unlimited time: a plain sentence next to each number explaining what kind of number it is. Several said this single change removed the most common follow-up question they get. The rest of that pattern is in what families ask after they get the report.

The school

They look for: what we're supposed to do differently on Monday.

Teachers and school staff go almost directly to the recommendations, and the research matches what I was told. A study on the generic nature of recommendations in psychoeducational reports found they often lack practical guidance on how they'd be carried out in a classroom, and that teachers strongly prefer specific, detailed suggestions. In a separate study, teachers summed it up as "don't do more, do different".

The operative test is whether someone could start on Monday. A recommendation that names the thing, the setting and the amount gets implemented. One that says "consider supports" doesn't.

The referring professional

They look for: did this answer the question I asked?

Referrers go to two places — the reason for referral, and whatever section speaks to it — and they're checking for a direct answer. Several clinicians told me the fastest way to frustrate a referrer is a thorough report that never quite lands on the question that generated it.

This is also why the short first section of the document does more work than its length suggests: it's the promise the rest of the report has to keep.

The funder or institution

They look for: is this current, complete and attributable?

A very different read. Dates, credentials, whether the document covers what a program or policy requires, and whether it's recent enough to rely on. Little interest in the reasoning; a lot of interest in whether the file will survive a review.

Clinicians described this reader as the one most likely to send something back over a missing formality rather than anything substantive.

A professional reviewing a printed document and taking notes at a desk

Four readers, four different first pages. The document has to hold all of them.

The future clinician

They look for: what was actually done, and what was concluded from it.

The reader nobody writes for consciously and everyone becomes eventually. Someone opens the file in three years and needs to know what was administered, what was observed, and what the reasoning was — enough to judge whether it still applies.

Psychologists told me this reader is the reason for a lot of the detail that families skim. The procedures section and the careful integration exist substantially for a colleague who isn't in the room yet.

Why is serving all of them at once so hard?

Because their needs genuinely conflict.

Precision for the professional reader pulls toward technical language. Actionability for the family pulls toward plain language. Completeness for the future clinician pulls toward length. Usability for the teacher pulls toward brevity. There is no wording that optimises all four, so every sentence is a small trade-off — and making thousands of those trade-offs well is a real reason a careful report takes as long as it does.

Which is also why the drafting is where I think software belongs and the judgment isn't. The structural scaffolding and the descriptive passages can be produced from your own material; deciding what a finding means, and how to say it so five readers each get what they came for, is the professional work. That's the split ours is built around.

If you want the anatomy of the document these readers are moving around inside, it's in what's in a cognitive assessment report.

— Ian

Ian Vardy
Ian Vardy
Founder & CEO, Soma Health

Ian is building Soma — AI tools that give clinicians their time back by drafting documentation, so therapists and psychologists can focus on their clients. He writes about clinical reporting, AI, and running a clinician-first software company.

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