This is an understandable language issue in marketing. From a legal standpoint, you often can't be too specific without opening up some level of exposure and risk. The problem is, from a pure communication standpoint, people love specificity. As consumers, we want to know exactly what we're getting, exactly what we're saving, exactly what you can do for me, and exactly what you want me to do.
In fact, I would argue that in the media-saturated chaos that now engulfs us, we're positively lost without specificity. Three examples come to mind (a specific number, see?):
1. Twitter, as we all know by now, lets you say anything you want to say, but only in 140 characters. Why 140? No reason, other than it's a restriction that forces you to act within it, and thus makes the entire platform more usable and interesting.
2. The idea of "buying local" has been around for decades, but why has it suddenly gained traction? Because an enterprising local consultant named Cinda Baxter started The 3/50 Project. The idea: Think of three local businesses you'd miss if they went away; and commit to spending $50 a month at those and other independent, locally owned businesses. "Buy local" is an empty platitude. "Support three businesses at $50/month" is a call to action.
3. Everyone wants to make a movie. Everyone imagines writing the great American novel. Now, with projects like the 48 Hour Film Project and NaNoWriMo, millions are getting into the act. You mean I only have 48 hours to make a movie? (Some contests have shortened it to 24). I only have a month write a novel? That's crazy. Okay, I'll do it.
Specificity sounds risky. We too often assume that it will alienate people. In fact, it usually has the exact opposite effect. Specificity eases understanding and incites action. So the next time you think it's good enough to say that your product or service "drives performance" or "leverages core assets," think again. Give me a number.