Life After PowerPoint!

Leaders speak to influence and inspire their audiences — not primarily to convey information.

And telling stories is one of the best ways to influence and inspire. Stories grab people’s interest and attention. They engage people’s imaginations and emotions. They’re memorable. They move audiences beyond — not counter to — their critical, nit-picking minds.

And they invite people — both the person telling the story and the people listening to it — to let their guards down and to become vulnerable. They are disarming, which is a good thing in today’s highly polemical world.

I recently gave a workshop for the executive leadership team at a major healthcare system. The person who brought me in warned me in advance that the executives prided themselves on being hard-nosed, bottom-line professionals who weren’t into “touchy-feely crap.”

I started by telling one of my own stories. I had them reflect on how stories work and on how important they are for leaders. (Howard Gardner, the Harvard professor, said “Stories constitute the single most powerful weapon in a leader’s arsenal.”) And then I had them tell stories to each other.

I had them tell a story of the person who influenced them most in their professional life. It was a safe topic to begin with, and everyone had a great story to tell. People began to relax. Then I asked them to tell a story about the person who influenced them most, having nothing to do with work. Finally, I asked them to tell a story about a turning point in their lives, when they made a choice that forever altered the way they act or think or feel. And I asked them what they learned from those experiences — what the moral of their story was.

There was no holding back. No defensiveness. People wanted to tell their stories. One person’s story inevitably made someone else want to tell his or her story.

When leaders tell stories, they make themselves real, vulnerable, human. And they invite others to respond in kind. That’s a good thing, to my way of thinking.

Here are two books I recommend on the subject:

The Way of the Storyteller, by Ruth Sawyer, blends literary history, criticism, analysis, personal anecdote, and how-to instructions. It includes stories from around the world and a comprehensive reading and story list.

The Story Factor, by Annette Simmons, is a more contemporary study. It illustrates how to tell stories to persuade, motivate, and inspire audiences in ways that cold facts, bullet points, and directives can’t.

What’s your experience with stories? Do you have any books to recommend?

One of the best ways to master the art of speaking and speechwriting is to read and analyze great speeches.

I just came upon such a speech, posted by Vital Speeches of the Day.  It’s by Rosalie Silberman Abella, Justice, Supreme Court of Canada. It’s titled, “The World Is Not Unfolding As It Should: International Justice in Crisis.” Read it here.

I find it both intellectually challenging and emotionally gripping. She’s not afraid to engage her audience’s intellect. She doesn’t dumb things down or overly simplify complex matters. And, at the same time, she doesn’t treat her subject as if it’s a purely academic concern, divorced from our real world, devoid of human pathos.

She’s grieved by what she sees happening in the world, and she thinks we should be too.

Her words have power, not just because of the thoughts and emotions they express, but because of the way she strings them together. Here are a few quotes I like:

Democratic values, while no guarantee, are still the best aspirational goals in my view, because without democracy there are no rights, without rights there is no tolerance, without tolerance there is no justice, and without justice, there is no hope.

The world was supposed to have learned three indelible lessons from the concentration camps of Europe:
1. Indifference is injustice’s incubator;
2. It’s not just what you stand for, it’s what you stand up for; and
3. We must never forget how the world looks to those who are vulnerable.

When we talk about democracy, we’re not just talking about elections. To say democracy is only about elections is like saying you don’t need the whole building if you have the door. Elections tell democracy it’s welcome to come in, but elections are only the entrance. Without a home, democracy can’t settle down. It needs an edifice of rules and rights and respect to grow up healthy and secure.

Give it a read. And let me know what you think.

In the United States today is Presidents Day, a national holiday honoring George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.

Washington was not as well known for his oratorical skills as Lincoln. His best known speech, simply called “His Farewell,” was more of a letter to the American people at the end of his second and final term as president, which he read.

But before he was president, Washington gave a speech that had far greater impact.

In 1783 officers of the revolutionary army were hatching a plot. They’d heard that the fledgling government was broke and unable to pay them for their past services.

Washington knew that their insurrection would mean the end of the new republic. He walked uninvited into their angry gathering and for nearly half an hour pled for their loyalty. With little success.

At the end of his speech, he opened a letter from a member of congress, which detailed the efforts being made to pay the nation’s debts in full. Washington squinted, held the letter at arm’s length, and then fell silent. The officers looked at one another, puzzled.

Finally, the general reached into his coat and took out a pair of glasses. The officers had never seen their physically formidable commander with glasses. “Gentlemen,” he said, “you will permit me to put on my spectacles, for I have not only grown gray but almost blind in the service of my country.”

His humbling admission achieved what his rhetoric had not. Some of the officers wept, and in the words of his biographer, “From behind the shining drops, their heads looked with love at the commander who had led them all so far and long.” Talk of rebellion ended on the spot.

Sometimes it’s not our words, no matter how well chosen, but our relationship with our listeners — our mutual affection, trust, and respect — that carry the day.

A college teacher wrote to tell me that she and her students were enjoying the “listening quiz” that’s posted on my website here.

In the intro to the quiz I stated, “80% (give or take 5%) of effective communication involves listening.” Because she’s an academic, she asked me where I got that statistic. What studies had I based that statement on? Sadly, I had to admit I made it up based on my experience.

I’m not going to die defending the 80% number, but I do firmly believe that effective communication depends much more on listening than on speaking.

And when it comes to promoting civil public discourse–as I’m trying to do in reaction all the very uncivil discourse out there–you can’t go wrong by listening. The various parties involved in what amounts to hate speech are always shouting at, talking over, or waving signs at other people. They never listen.

(You might want to check out the International Listening Association for its resources.)

Do you agree that listening is more important than speaking? What’s the percentage you’d assign to listening?

Image courtesy of Dave Fayram at Flickr.

I haven’t written many posts lately. And I’ve wondered why. At first I blamed the fact — alas — that my home/office was flooded during a mid-December rainstorm. Then I blamed getting caught up in the holidays. But finally I realized that I was suffering — again! — from an overexposure to uncivil civil discourse.

I love public debate and the lively exchange of ideas. And I think that speeches, especially those given by leaders – politicians, executives, community leaders, religious authorities, and the like – should set forth big ideas, whether they’re popular or not. As a result, I’ve found this past year or so overwhelmingly painful.

The tone and tenor of our public discourse has too frequently become polarized and polarizing, shrill and strident, malicious, abusive, and offensive. Shouting has replaced listening. Courtesy is nonexistent. Name calling is common. Evidence, logic, and the common good are commonly ignored. People who expound ideas that others dislike are shouted down or maligned.

I let the negativity get to me. I needed to take a break from it all. Now I’m back.

In this blog I want to reflect on and host a discussion of speeches and presentations — the good, the bad, and the boring — in a civil manner. I don’t mind controversy. I kind of like it. But I won’t tolerate discourtesy.

Next up: a discussion of what civil discourse means. Any ideas you’d like to share?

President Obama’s words at Ft. Hood in honor of those who died in the recent massacre did what a eulogy is meant to do. His address, in the words of Plato,  “extolled the dead and exhorted the living.”

(For the full speech and text, go here.)

I found his tribute to each of the dead — when he spoke each person’s name and in 45 to 55 words summed up their lives — particularly moving. “Their lives speak to the strength, the dignity and the decency of those who serve, and that is how they will be remembered.”

Motivation, to my way of thinking, is about 1) moving people to take action 2) in order to achieve a short-term goal, 3) by giving them an incentive.

Coaches during half-time, military leaders before a battle, and managers of all sorts who want their people to dedicate themselves to a short-term goal should be giving motivational speeches.

If you want to see a great example of a motivational speech, watch this clip from the movie Patton. The speech is taken almost word for word from the speech the general actually used to give his troops before sending them into battle. What action does he want them to take? Kill. What’s the short-term goal? Win the battle. What’s the incentive? If you kill them, they won’t kill you.

You can’t give a motivational speech and expect it to last. You constantly have to stir people up.

Inspiration is about 1) asking people to be their best 2) without any promise of reward other than the satisfaction that comes from within. The best way to inspire other people is to be someone worthy of emulation.

A great example of an inspirational speech comes from another American general, Douglas MacArthur. You can watch a clip of Gregory Peck delivering it here. (You can read the entire speech here. It’s beautifully crafted and worth the read.) He isn’t trying to rouse his audience to take immediate action. He doesn’t speak about any short-term goals. And he certainly doesn’t offer them any incentive. Instead, he inspires them to be officers worthy of their uniforms by assimilating the values of West Point: duty, honor, country. He was, at the time, the most highly decorated U.S. officer, a five-star general, and the former commandant of West Point. He was, for the audience he addressed, the embodiment of an officer they would want to be like.

A good inspirational speech may touch people for a life time, forever changing how they seek to be in this world.

Do you have any examples of either motivational speeches or inspirational speeches to share?

Martin Shovel at Creativity Works has a great post, well worth reading on the limitations of PowerPoint. (The comments are equally thoughtful and worth reading.)

Why does PowerPoint Presentations that Changed the World rank so high on the list of books that will never be written? Perhaps the clue’s in the title.

PowerPoint has been with us for over twenty years but during that time it has gained more of a reputation for sending the world to sleep than changing it.

Great orators, past and present, have managed to get by quite nicely without it – preferring instead to weave their magic with words alone. Would Nelson Mandela’s statement at the opening of his trial have been more powerful, or Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech more moving if they’d been delivered as PowerPoint presentations? I think not.

What PowerPoint can’t show you.

I seem to be the only person who differentiates presentations from speeches. (Read “What’s the Difference between a Speech and a Presentation?”). But if you buy into my distinction, I would say that PowerPoint may be effective — when used effectively — in presentations. It’s often counterproductive in speeches.

What do you think?

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?

Last week I wrote about the classic way of structuring a speech, using an introduction, body, and conclusion.

Today I’d like to take a different point of view and argue that some speeches are better off not following that rigid of a structure.

A good speech is like a story: It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But it doesn’t always proceed through a discrete introduction, a three-part body, and a conclusion. Sometimes — frequently — a good speech seems simply to spill forth, like water pouring out of an upended bucket, following its own momentum.

The Gettysburg Address, for example, doesn’t follow the intro-body-conclusion structure. Lincoln did not preview his main points in an introduction, expound on those points in the body of his speech, and then reiterate them and give his audience reason to take action on them in his conclusion. He dove headlong into idea. He wound his way from the birth of the nation (“conceived in liberty”), through death (“these honored dead,” “that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion,” and “that these dead shall not have died in vain”), to rebirth (“a new birth of freedom”).

Most presidential speeches — think of Kennedy’s inaugural address or of Reagan’s address to the nation after the space shuttle Challenger disaster — don’t follow the intro-body-conclusion structure.

And most persuasive speeches don’t follow the intro-body-conclusion structure, even though they are often the most tightly structured type of speech. (When you’re trying to persuade an audience, you don’t want to give them a preview of your argument. Doing so will raise objections in their minds before you have a chance to address them in the way you want to.)

There’s good reason why so many speakers employ the intro-body-conclusion structure. It’s solid. It’s clear. It gives your audience a sense of comfort and security; they know, after all, where they are and where you’re taking them. But speeches built upon that structure can be a bit stodgy, predictable, pedantic. They can lack beauty, momentum, and grace. Depending on what you want to achieve, you may be better off not using that structure.

What do you think?