Life After PowerPoint!

I recently spoke — with three other speech coaches — to the San Diego Professional Coaches Alliance about giving speeches as a way to build a coaching practice. (I’ve given a different form of the talk to consultants and to self-employed entrepreneurs).

Here’s my premise: As a consultant, coach, self-employed entrepreneur, or small-business owner, you are your business. To attract new clients you need to put yourself in front of prospects in a way that wins their attention, interest, and trust. One of the best and least inexpensive ways of doing so is by making presentations.

Someone videotaped my section of the presentation. (He used a hand-held camcorder so don’t expect professional production qualities. Half the time I’ve walked out of the frame.) In it I address two questions:

1. Who do you talk to? What is your audience? Where do you find them?
2. What do you talk about? What’s the content and the goal of your presentation?

Let me know what you think.

A presentation is not — or should not — be primarily about communicating information. (There are more efficient and effective ways of doing so.) A presentation is about communicating an idea in a way that makes it clear and desirable. (It’s to be hoped, of course, that your idea is a good one.)

Presentations are really about selling an idea.

Rosabeth Moss Kanter, a professor at Harvard Business School, has posted a great piece that’s related to this topic, titled “Seven Hints for Selling Ideas.” (Read it here.)

Her seven hints (which she expands on in her post) are:

1. Seek many inputs.
2. Do your homework. 
3. Make the rounds.
4. See critics in private and hear them out.
5. Make the benefits clear.
6. Be specific.
7. Show that you can deliver.

I like all of her hints, but I especially like her third one: Make the rounds. Too many people assume their idea is so compelling that all they have to do is spell it out and others will instantly see its wisdom and buy into it. The truth is, people need to be sold on an idea. They appreciate being approached in person and having their concerns addressed. They are more receptive in one-on-one conversations than they are in meetings. Important decisions rarely get made at meetings: They get made beforehand and they’re simply ratified at meetings.

What do you think? Do you have any hints you’d add to the list?

They say, “Experience is the best teacher.” But it ain’t so.

Experience, in and by itself, doesn’t teach anything. Experience is an opportunity for learning.

The experience of being a parent, for example, does not necessarily give people special insight or wisdom. It doesn’t inevitably make them more loving, patient, or understanding. Sadly, all too many parents are self-absorbed, negligent, or abusive. Being a parent doesn’t, on its own, teach people anything; it puts them in a situation, which has its own demands and rewards, where they can learn — or not learn – how to be a person worthy of being called a mother or a father.

The same is true about learning how to speak.

On the one hand, you have to get up and give speeches. There’s nothing like the experience of being in front of an audience and giving it your best shot. (That’s one reason why I often recommend that people look into Toastmasters.)

On the other hand, giving speeches — even lots of them — doesn’t necessarily make you a good speaker. I listen to experienced speakers all the time who are disorganized, confusing, and boring. Maybe you do, too.

So how do you learn from your experience?

First, observe other speakers. And get critical. By critical, I don’t mean “inclined to find fault or to judge with severity.” I mean “using skillful judgment to determine something’s value or worth.”

Pay special attention to good speakers. And notice what they’re doing. If they lose you or confuse you, ask yourself what happened. Don’t blame yourself. Try to figure out why you got lost or what they said that didn’t make sense to you. And when you get caught up in what they’re saying, take a step back and analyze what they’re doing. How are they relating to the audience? Do they tell stories? Do they use humor? If so, what kind? And pay attention to speakers who aren’t so good.

For example, there’s a speaker I hear rather often. She’s prepared and she has good things to say. But I’m almost always bored. It’s as if she’s lulling me to sleep. One day I decided that since I had to listen to her anyway, I would use the time to figure out what she was doing that I found so sleep-inducing. And I noticed two things. First, she was reading her speech word for word. It’s hard to project energy and vitality when you’re reading a speech. Some people can do it. Most can’t. And second, she had written her speech for the eyes, not for the ears. She used long, complex sentences. They would be fine if you were reading them in a book or a journal, but not fine if you were listening to them. (Okay, I’ll confess it: I’m a fanatic. I can’t simply say someone’s sentences are too long. I had to count how many words were in each sentence. So for three or four minutes, I counted. And I found that her sentences were 45 to 50 words long. And she used, on average, five phrases per sentence!)

So observe good speakers and less riveting speakers. And pay attention to what they’re doing, to what works and what doesn’t work. Ask yourself how you can apply the lessons you’ve learned from them. (I’m not suggesting, by the way, that you imitate them.)

Second, get feedback from people you trust about your own speaking.

I give that piece of advice with some trepidation. Much of the feedback I’ve received over the years and have heard other people receive has been counterproductive. People — even well-meaning, intelligent people — can give some stupid advice about speaking.

Here’s what I do. When people say something nice or not so nice about a speech I’ve given, I ask them to be specific. What did I do or say that they liked or disliked. Where in my speech did I grab their attention or turn them off? What was I doing at that moment? How did they perceive it? How did it make them feel? And I listen real carefully. Then, they go on to tell me how I could fix it, and I listen less carefully. All too often people give advice about how they would do something. They don’t have the ability or the insight to help me do what I do better.

Listen to people’s advice and analyze it. Try it out if it makes sense.

Finally, take responsibility for your own learning. (That’s the theme that runs through my first two pieces of advice.) Observe others, analyze what they do, seek advice, listen, reflect, experiment. Let your experience be the classroom. But be your own teacher.

What about you? How do you learn best to be a good speaker?

I’m a big fan of framing many technical presentations in a Problem – Solution format. You lay out a problem, analyze it, propose one or more solutions, discuss their pros and cons, and make a recommendation.

Of course, in real life problems are often complicated and messy and solutions are harder to come by. (Just ask the people at BP.)

When I’m called in to work with a team that is confronted with a serious problem, here’s a list of questions I draw from. Not all of them are applicable to all situations, mind you, but I like having them to prompt discussions:

1. Is it a problem, a situation, or a condition? A threat or an opportunity?
2. What is the problem? What is the nature of the problem? Does it involve people, processes, systems, technology, or tools? Is it acute or chronic? Isolated or systemic?
3. What do we know about the problem? What else do we need to know? What questions do we need to ask? How are we going to get the information we need? Who has the knowledge, skill, or experience to help address the problem?
4. When did the problem begin? How did it develop?
5. Who is most affected by the problem? Who has the most at stake? Who is responsible for resolving the problem?
6. What values, ethical considerations, laws, regulations, or relationships are at stake?
7. Where (in what physical location, system, department) did the problem begin? Where does it currently exist?
8. What is the cause or the source of the problem?
9. What problems (pain) does the problem cause?
10. How has the problem been addressed in the past? What was done, by whom, when, and to what effect?
    What is the probability of the problem resolving itself?
11. How much cost-in money, time, labor-will be incurred if the problem is left alone?
12. What solutions have the greatest probability of success? What are the pros and cons of each one? Which one do you recommend? What does your gut tell you to do?
13. Do the proposed solutions address the problem or the pain?
14. How much will each proposed solution cost-in money, time, labor-to implement?
    What risks are involved? What will happen if 1) we do nothing or 2) take this proposed action? What can go wrong? How will people-employees, customers/clients, the public, the competition-react? How probable and how serious are those risks? What can be done to mitigate them?
15. What are the benefits of the proposed solution? How can this problem be turned to an advantage?
16. What happens next? How long will it take to implement the solution and what is the timeframe?

Do you have any questions to add to my list? Which ones do you think are most important? Would you change any?

Here’s a thoughtful and well-illustrated presentation about motivation.

It debunks the myth that rewarding people for behavior that you want and punishing them for behavior that you don’t want gets you more of what you want. In place of the carrot and a stick approach to motivation, Dan Pink talks about the importance of appealing to people’s need for autonomy, mastery, and purpose.

I really like what he has to say. What do you think? And what do you think of the illustration?

You can’t motivate other people.

People can only motivate themselves. You can’t make other people feel anything. They and they alone are responsible for their own feelings. So you can’t make people love their jobs or want to do what you want them to. You can only give them incentives — reasons why they might love their jobs or want to do what you want them to — and let them decide for themselves.

You can, however, de-motivate people.

You can give people reasons for hating their jobs or for not wanting to do what you want them to. You can make their jobs tedious and meaningless. You can make them attend endless meetings that accomplish squat. You can make them work with bullies and idle gossips. You can reward incompetence and overlook people’s meaningful contributions. You can enforce rules and policies that make no sense. You can overwork and underpay them.

The job of a leader or of anyone who wants to motivate others is first to un-de-motivate people. To un-de-motivate them, remove as many irksome, useless, and onerous impediments as possible. (In the real world, an impediment-free workplace is an impossibility.)

Create the right environment — not a perfect workplace, but a good-enough one. Give people the guidance, support, and tools they need to succeed. Then it’s up to them. If they become engaged — if they motivate themselves — great. If they remain detached or bored or passive — if they choose not to be motivated — it may be your responsibility to help them find someplace else to work.

Do you agree? Disagree? What would you add?

In a world that prizes form over content, style over substance, I believe that speeches stand or fall because of the ideas they propose and the words that are spoken to bring those ideas to life.

That’s why I titled a chapter from my book, “Content Is King.” (In it I examined three aspects of content: the idea of the speech, the structure of the speech, and the words.)

An idea, by the way, isn’t simply a dry, intellectual exercise. A good idea — a sticky idea, to borrow the term coined by the Heath brothers in Made to Stick – appeals to the whole person: to the mind, the imagination, and the emotions.

And that’s why I like a recent blog by Cynthia Starks, where she writes:

On the world stage, words can win votes, start wars, inspire a generation.

In the business world, they can increase customers, boost sales, guide and motivate employees, influence investors, mark individuals as thought-leaders and companies as pace-setters.

Words still matter

She goes on to write: “In all of the old and new ways in which business executives and organizational leaders are expected to communicate with their various constituencies today, one thing remains constant. Words matter. When the words are right, the message helps you meet your business and marketing goals. When the words are wrong, the message doesn’t matter.”

Check out the entire piece. And check out the rest of the blog while you’re at it. You’ll find it enriching.

The goal of any speech or presentation is change.

Last week I wrote about changing your audience’s feelings. I concluded, in brief, that you can and should change people’s feelings during your presentation. But I also cautioned that changing their feelings is a short-lived phenomenon. By their very nature, feelings come and go, rise and fall, intensify and dissipate. What people feel during and shortly after your speech, they won’t be feeling tomorrow or the next day.

So what else can you change in the relatively brief time you’re speaking?

You may be able to change your audience’s actions.

The question I most frequently ask my clients when they’re strategizing their talks is, “What action do you want your audience to take as a result of listening to your talk?”

Do you want them to approve your budget? Give your project the green light? Use your procedure? Buy your product? Make an appointment to speak with you about your services? Give you their input? Join your organization? Volunteer their time? Go to your website for more information?

The more specific and immediate the action, the better. Why? Because you increase the odds that people will do what you want them to if they know exactly what it is you want them to do and if they can do it while it’s still on their minds.

(Andrew Lightheart, in a post titled Focusing on your Outcome without Manipulating People, raises some good questions about taking this approach. He rightly points out that it makes it sound easy to people’s actions, when doing so is actually quite difficult. And he’s also concerned about manipulating people, which I agree, would be an issue if you’re going about it in a covert or sneaky way. But I suggest you be upfront and honest about your intentions. Say, in effect, “Here’s what I want you to do and here’s why.” People always have the choice–you’re not coercing them–to do or not to do what you want them to.)

Although I believe you can and should change your audience’s actions, I’m more skeptical about your chances of changing their behavior.

An action is a one-time thing. “Do this [approve my budget, buy my product, call me to set up an appointment] now.” And that’s often a good thing. (If the selection board, for example, awards your company a multi-million dollar contract as a result of your oral proposal, pat yourself on the back.)

But behavior is an ongoing pattern of acting. It’s a habit. And people rarely, rarely, rarely change habits in response to a one-time event, such as a speech.

You might think, from last week’s post and today’s post, that I have a limited opinion of what a speech or presentation can change. But I wouldn’t be a speaker or a speech coach, if I thought that were true. 

I actually think you can accomplish a lot–even in a single speech. But I think you do so by changing how people think, because if you change how they think you also change how they feel and act. Not just for a moment, but for years to come. Maybe for a lifetime. How you do that is the subject of a future post.

What do you think?

Photo courtesy of HeyPaul at Flickr.

Kurt Vonnegut, author of Slaughterhouse-Five, Cat’s Cradle, and Breakfast of Champions, gave this advice about writing:

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them — in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages. 

His advice applies most directly, of course, to writing fiction or to telling stories. But I think audiences of all sorts would be a lot happier if speakers took his advice to heart.

Here’s my way of tweaking his rules for speakers:

1. Don’t waste your audience’s time.
Their time is their most preciously guarded resource. Make good use of it. Never feel the need to fill the time you’re assigned. It’s never okay to go over your allotted time. (Doing so is rude to the meeting planner, to your audience, and to any other speaker who is on after you.) But it’s always okay to go under your allotted time. Say what you need to say and, having said it, sit down.

2. Give the audience at least one idea they can root for.
Build each speech about one — and only one — idea. And treat it with the same respect that a novelist treats his or her characters. Define your idea. Describe it. Show how it works. Tell a story about it — either about how you discovered or developed it or about how it has affected other people. Make people like your idea, not just agree with it.

3. Every audience members should want something.
If you can’t make them want something from your speech — an insight or a practical tip or maybe just a good time — you’re wasting their time. Which is a violation of Rule #1. Show them how your idea will benefit them in some way.

4. Every sentence (and phrase) must do one of two things — educate or entertain.
Educate = tell people something they don’t already know or give them a new way of understanding what they do know. Entertain = keep them interested, since bored people stop listening and stop caring.

5. Start as close to the end as possible.
This rule doesn’t even need to be revised. Cut out the introductory sentences and sentiments. “I’m so happy to be with you today…” “What an honor it is for me to be addressing you…” “You’re such a great group of people…” Churchill called opening pleasantries “opening banalities.” Dive right into your best material.

6. Be tough on your idea.
Test your idea against logic, against other ideas, against your own self-interest. If you’re soft on your idea, your audience will tear into it themselves. If you’re afraid of the Q&A session, it’s usually because there’s a killer question you don’t want to be asked. So ask it yourself. (And be sure you have a good answer.)

7. Speak to please just one person: Yourself.
(I addressed this rule here.)

8. Give your audience all the information they need — but no more — as soon as possible.
Explain the background. Define your terms. I’m okay with keeping your audience in suspense. Just don’t keep them in ignorance. It you confuse them or make them feel out of it, they’ll tune you out.

How would you apply these rules?

You can plan, create, and deliver a great speech, and still bomb. I’ve done it. I’ve seen other professional speakers do it. And it’s not pretty.

Here’s how I went wrong: I put too much energy into creating a great speech, and not enough into making the event a success.

If you’re not careful the event itself — the schedule, physical setting, technical logistics, and room layout — can sabotage the best planned speech.

A couple of war stories from my past, which taught me this painful lesson:

1. I was brought on at 9:45 PM (not at 7:30 PM, as I had been told) to address a group of physicians. They were exhausted from already having attended three days of a conference. Their day had begun with a 7 AM breakfast meeting. And they were inebriated, having just enjoyed a free happy hour and a 5-course dinner with wine pairings.
2. I spoke at the Anaheim Convention Center in a hall the size of three airplane hangers. There were 15 other break-out presentations, separated only by curtains, going on at the same time. All the presenters spoke louder and louder, trying to make themselves heard. I’ve been in lumber mills that were quieter.
3. I was introduced to give the keynote address after the audience had already endured almost two hours of (a) announcements, (b) the recognition of honored guests who felt compelled to “say a few words,” and (c) awards to people who promised (but failed) to keep their remarks brief.

I could — sadly — tell more war stories.

I finally stopped complaining about the crazy set-ups and scheduling glitches I’ve had to endure. And I started anticipating and addressing them. These days I want to know as much as possible about the event. And I want to have some say in its scheduling and staging.

I used to be scrupulous about analyzing the audience. Now I’m equally fanatical about analyzing and shaping the event.

In tomorrow’s post I’ll look at some of the issues that need to be addressed.

How about you? Have your best efforts been stymied by the event? Care to share any of your war stories?