Life After PowerPoint!

A great post from the people at CreativityWorks about metaphors and their misuse got me thinking. It is truly worth reading. (I’m using some of its insights and going off on my own tangent, so don’t blame them fo what you read here.)

Metaphors would seem to be the antidote to business buzz words, which are often abstract and imprecise.

Take ROI as example. “Return on Investment” once had a very precise meaning in financial services. It meant — and still means — according to Investopedia: “A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or to compare the efficiency of a number of different investments. To calculate ROI, the benefit (return) of an investment is divided by the cost of the investment; the result is expressed as a percentage or a ratio.” There’s even a formula you can use to calculate the ROI.

Now days ROI has lost its specificity and people in all different fields use it simply to mean “making more money (from your investment, your project or program, your effort, your time) than you put into it.” It has become, in other words, corporate speak.

You would think that metaphors, which are by their very nature concrete and specific, would be more effective and powerful. But they’re not. At least, not the ones that are so commonly used in business.

A good metaphor compares one thing — an unknown or ill-defined or abstract thing — to something else — something the listeners know, something that is concrete and specific. A good metaphor doesn’t need to be explained, since its very purpose is to explain or illustrate something else.

Which brings me to the metaphors that business people love. They all conjure up images, which is the idea of a metaphor, but they all too often fail to add insight. Their meaning isn’t immediately apparent. Here’s my rule: If you need to explain it, it’s not a good metaphor.

The 800 Hundred Pound Gorilla

My list of poor, overused, or trite business metaphors includes (in alphabetic order):

• 800 pound gorilla
• best of breed
• blue sky thinking
• boots on the ground
• bring our ‘a’ game
• carrot and stick
• down in the weeds
• drink the kool aid
• eat what you kill
• gone off the reservation
• level the playing field
• low-hanging fruit
• move the needle
• on the same page
• push the envelop
• raise the bar
• rubber hits the road
• step up to the plate
• stick to your knitting
• stir the pot
• take it to the next level
• tear down the silos
• the bleeding edge
• the learning curve
• think outside the box
• throw under the bus
• under the radar
• who moved my cheese?

What do you think? Do you agree or disagree that metaphors shouldn’t have to be explained? Do you take exception with any metaphor on my list? What metaphor would you add?

Photo courtesy of Weiter Winkel at Flickr.

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?

I think a rant is a great type of a speech, when done properly. It takes a strong point of view — in this case against two misuses of the English language (”I could care less” and “holding down the fort”) — and pounds it home with intelligence and wit.

Do you know any examples of rants worth sharing?

Samuel Goldwyn, the movie producer, said, “If you want to send a message, try Western Union.” He was talking about movies, and if by “send a message” he meant “make an obvious, preachy statement” he was right.

But I think a speech should have a message.

A speech’s message is different from its main idea.

An idea is a thought that structures, unifies, and gives meaning and value to the other information that you present or that your audience already knows.

The message is your moral vision, your vision of how to act in the world.

Your idea is, or should be, explicit. If at the end of a speech the audience is unable to clearly articulate your main point, the speech was, in my opinion, a failure. It was either disjointed or confusing. But your message doesn’t have to be — often shouldn’t be — so obvious. An explicitly stated message can be heavy handed and off putting.

At Gettysburg Lincoln’s idea was this: This nation, founded in the belief that “all men are created equal,” is being tested by war, but it will emerge renewed and strengthened. His (unspoken) message: We must continue fighting to preserve the union and to end slavery. His idea was a way of interpreting — making sense of — the war. That message came from his moral conviction about the rightness of the Union’s cause and about what needs to be done as a result.

Sarah Palin and Barak Obama have radically different ideas about healthcare. But they also have radically different moral visions.

Whether you know it or not, whether you intend to or not, you are always communicating some sort of message, because you are always speaking from your moral vision.

Do you agree or disagree?

Photo courtesy of Natalie Maynor at Flickr.

I believe that speeches and presentations should be built around an idea. One idea. It can be a complex idea, but it still has to be a single, unified idea. Of course, it’s got to be a good idea.

I like the Matthew Frederick’s definition of an idea, which he gives in 101 Things I Learned in Architecture School:

An idea is a specific mental structure by which we organize, understand, and give meaning to external experiences and information.

The purpose of a speech or presentation, then, is to help audiences organize, understand, and give meaning to their experiences and to the information they already know or that you’re presenting. Simply giving people information — even if it’s original, verifiable, and relevant– isn’t enough. People already have access to more information than they can possibly assimilate or use. You have to help them make sense of it and know how to value it.

Clearly, not all ideas are created equal. Some ideas — way too many ideas, these days — are irrational, crazy, and demonstrably false. Just because they are widely disseminated doesn’t mean they’re true. Bad ideas that make the rounds of the internet or the talk shows are still bad ideas.

Here are three basic questions to ask about any idea you’re considering, whether you’re preparing a speech or listening to one:

• What’s the evidence?
  What experience, observation, or information is being put forth? How do you know it is accurate? What degree of confidence do you have in it? What is its source? Is it supported by other material you know to be trustworthy? What evidence contradicts it?
• What are the assumptions?
  An assumption is a hypothesis that is assumed to be true and that may or may not be stated. It’s your job to ferret out all the assumptions being made and to make them explicit. Then you need to decide if they are true. Assumptions often lead to conclusions. If you begin with a false, inaccurate, or misleading assumption, you’ll end up with a bad idea.
• Is it logical?
  Logic is a way of tying things together in a way that makes sense. Pay special attention to the three most common logical fallacies: 1. post hoc, ergo propter hoc; 2) false dichotomy; and 3) ad hominem.

What other ways do you use to determine whether an idea is a good one or not?

Photo courtesy of Zaldy Icaonapo at PublicDomainPictures.net.

Most presentations are a variation on the problem-solution format. The presenter surfaces a problem that affects the audience, explains it in some way (its scope, implications, causes, etc.), and prescribes a solution to it (what to do, how to do it, and the benefits of doing it).

There are many ways to define a problem. The definition that I’ve been working with lately is a version of one proposed by a friend who teaches game theory to both the military and to businesses. And it’s this:

A problem is anything — a set of circumstances, an object, an action, a process, a person, a rule, a condition — or a combination of all of those things that prevents you from achieving what you desire.

A locked door is not a problem if you’re a homeowner wanting to protect your family and your possessions. It is a problem 1) if you’re the owner of the home and you’ve locked yourself out, or 2) if you’re a burglar and you want to break in.

Something — anything — only becomes a problem when it keeps someone from getting what they want.

That means that when you’re talking to a mixed audience, you may need to define the problem in a couple of different ways, depending on what the different people in the audience want. The CFO, the VP of sales, and the head of R&D may all agree that a situation at a manufacturing plant is a problem. But they may — they probably will — define it differently because of how it affects them and their areas of responsibility.

So to begin creating a problem-solution presentation, you need to understand at least three things: 1) the situation as it is, 2) the people affected by it, and 3) their desires and objectives.

Have I left something out? How do you define a problem?

I’m a big fan of using analogies in a speech or presentation.

There are many forms of analogies. The two better known forms are

1. Metaphors equate two unrelated objects (”A is B”).
   All the world’s a stage,
   And all the men and women merely players;
   They have their exits and their entrances.
   - William Shakespeare, As You Like It
2. Similes liken one object to another (”A is like B”).
   “Politicians are a lot like diapers: They should be changed frequently and for the same reason.”
   Robin Williams in the movie Man of the Year

All the different forms basically compare two unlike objects or processes in a way that implies a similarity.

Using an analogy is a great way of explaining or illustrating a thing, a process, or a concept that your audience may not understand either because it’s new to them or because it’s complex. The best way to do this it to compare something that the audience already knows or understands to what you’re talking about.

Jon Stewart and his guest correspondent, Wyatt Cenac, used an analogy — to humorous effect — earlier this week on The Daily Show when they compared politicians to professional wrestlers. Watch it here.

What you always have to bear in mind is that analogies imply similarities. They do not establish identical natures. They are symbolic, not literal. When you say “A is like B,” you have to realize — and, if you’re being honest, admit to your audience — that in (sometimes significant) ways “A is unlike B.” We are not, after all, merely players doing our brief part of a stage.

What are some of your favorite analogies?

Rowan Gibson is a global business strategist, author of Innovation to the Core and Rethinking The Future. In an interview here, he said something about developing new insights that I found well worth passing along:

The fact is that in order to discover new ideas and opportunities of any real value, people need to stretch their thinking beyond the conventional. They need to develop fresh perspectives. So the “Four Lenses” represent four specific types of perspectives, or ways of looking at the world, that innovators typically use to come to their breakthrough discoveries. They are
(1) Challenging orthodoxies,
(2) Harnessing trends,
(3) Leveraging resources in new ways, and
(4) Understanding unmet needs.

By using these lenses, or these particular angles of view, it’s possible to systematically look through the familiar and spot the unseen. That’s how you discover those deep insights that others have overlooked or ignored.

Blogging Innovation: Part 1 of 3 - Building a Systemic Innovation Capability - Innovation blog articles, videos, and insights.

Gibson is talking about building a culture of innovation into organizations. But I think speakers and presenters can benefit from using his approach — the four lenses — as they are developing their programs.

What do you think?

When I help clients create their speeches and presentations, I find myself spending quite a bit of time helping them think through what they want to say. As far as I’m concerned, a speech is only as good as the idea it sets forth.

If the speech’s idea is feeble, misguided or misleading, illogical, false, or trite, nothing else — words and phrases, visual aids, delivery — nothing can save it. Even if it meets with the audience’s wild approval — a standing ovation and 5’s on the evaluation sheet — it is still a bad speech.

A good speech sets forth one — and only one — idea.

You can develop a complex idea with several interconnected elements, if you have a mind to and if it suits your purpose and the needs of the audience. But it still has to be a single, unified idea. It helps, of course, if the idea is worthy of being talked about, if it is insightful, provocative, helpful, or entertaining.

So how do you come up with such an idea? Or how do you test your idea to make sure it’s a good idea?

You ask questions. Lots and lots of questions.

I always like starting off with the basics: who? what? where? when? why? how? But don’t stop there. (This web page categorizes any number of questions you might want to ask.)

But here’s the thing to keep in mind. The questions you ask shape the answers you get. Ask what the problem is, for example, and you’ll learn about problems. You may not hear about progress that has already been made or about unheralded successes or about people’s attachment to the way things are.

The more questions you ask and the greater variety of questions you ask, the better. They’ll keep you from narrowing the scope of your thinking too early.

It helps, too, to have a variety of people asking questions. Like-minded people tend to ask the same type of questions. Bring in outsiders. Give them permission to ask questions, even if they don’t seem to make sense to you. It’s hard to see your own blind spots and biases.

And question your own questions. What assumptions are you making? Are you assuming, for example, that there is a problem? Why are you making that assumption? Is it a fair assumption to make? What are the questions you most frequently ask? Why? What questions do you shy away from asking? Why?

What are your favorite questions to ask, when you’re thinking through an idea?

A speech should be built around one, and only one, idea. But it has to be a big idea. Something that engages the imagination, the intellect, and the emotions. Something that illuminates complexity without being complicated or confusing. Something that causes people to wonder, to speculate, and ask more and better questions.

Here are three ideas for generating big ideas:

Read a Book

Reading a book — as opposed to browsing a summary, an article, or a website that has been optimized for mobile devices — requires attention, concentration, and sustained thinking. Books don’t just contain big ideas, they also train our minds to think big — to think long and hard and deep.

Nicholas Carr at Rough Type cites three quotations from Eric Schmidt, Google’s CEO, which show a progression in how he thinks the net affects the way we read as well as the way we think.

“The one thing that I do worry about is the question of ‘deep reading.’ As the world looks to these instantaneous devices … you spend less time reading all forms of literature, books, magazines and so forth. That probably has an effect on cognition, probably has an effect on reading.” 

Take a Hike

Hiking has at least two benefits.

First, hiking make us smarter. It’s a form of aerobic exercise, and as John Medina shows in Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School exercise increases our brain power.

Second, hiking gets us out in fresh air, sunshine, and nature. Which are all good things, not just for the body but for the soul. William Wordsworth, the great English romantic poet, said, “Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.” When I hike, alone or with others, I find myself thinking of things I hadn’t considered before. I wonder as I wonder. And wondering is a doorway into thinking big.

Just Don’t Do Something, Sit There

Silence and the willingness to sit in stillness are probably the greatest counter-cultural “activities” you can engage in. When everything urges you to just do it, it takes moxie not to do it or anything else. Stop cruising the internet. Turn off the TV. Take out the earbuds. Stop going to meetings. Spend less time responding to email. Be quiet and allow — don’t force — ideas to percolate up to your awareness. If you tune out or turn down the volume of all the noise around you, who knows what you might hear?

Where do your best ideas come from?