Life After PowerPoint!

Dale Fetherling, the coauthor of my book, died last month. He was one of the good guys, with broad shoulders, a deep voice, and a love of words. I knew him mostly on the professional level, but I liked and respected him and I’m saddened by his death.

His memorial service was quite touching. And I was especially moved by the reflections shared by three of his colleagues.

A eulogy, according to the ancient Greeks and Romans, is supposed to “praise the dead, and inspire or instruct the living.” I think its purpose is to evoke memories of the dead in a way that consoles the living.

The eulogies at Dale’s service did just that. Here’s what I think they got right.

First, because all three eulogists were themselves veteran journalists, they wrote their scripts and read them. They chose their words carefully, making each phrase and each sentence count.

Second, they told stories. Funny stories. “I’ll bet you didn’t know this about Dale” stories. And, since they were talking to people who shared similar experiences of him, “do you remember how he used to do this” stories. Each story brought Dale to life in our imaginations and brought out our affection for him and brought us together.

Finally, they let their affection show. They clearly admired and loved Dale. They grieved his loss. And they let it show. Each one had to pause somewhere in what they were saying — usually in the middle of a story — and choke back a sob before carrying on.

The purpose of a eulogy is the same as the purpose of a funeral. (Speeches are supposed to serve the event in which they are situated.) And these eulogies served that purpose. I left the service feeling that my grief was shared, honored, and eased.

May he rest in peace.

On Saturday a man opened fire with a semi-automatic weapon at a political gathering in Tucson, Arizona. He killed six people (including a 9-year-old girl, three women in their 70s, and a federal judge) and wounded more than a dozen others (including Gabby Giffords, the Democratic Congresswoman for that district).

The tragedy has sparked a lot of debate about the connection between virulent and violent rhetoric, which unfortunately has become a mainstay of American politics these days, and the shootings.

I think it’s too simplistic — and premature — to say that the rhetoric, as ugly and mean-spirited as it has been, is the cause of the massacre. But I think those who say such rhetoric had no connection to the killer’s actions are being disingenuous.

Words — spoken words, specifically – have power. That’s why we use them. And words have consequences. We want them to.

The purpose of a speech is to change the way people think and feel and act. That’s why we give speeches: we want what we say to have an effect. The question we have to ask ourselves is not “do our words affect what other people do?”, but “what do we hope people will do as a result of listening to the words we speak?”

The photo of “Grief” is courtesy of Ann Gav at Flickr.com.

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.

Nancy Duarte, author of Slide:ology, has published a new book that is well worth your consideration.

Resonate: Present Visual Stories that Transform Audiences (Wiley, 2010) is a visually-appealing, thought-provoking book, and richly satisfying book.

I haven’t read it from cover to cover. Its design has always prompted me to open it at random and read a couple of pages, reflect on what I’ve read, and dive in again at some other point. Each open-read-reflect experiment either confirmed my own experience (“that’s so true”) or gave me a new insight (“I hadn’t thought of it that way before”).

I’ve long believed that every speech — or at least any speech that hopes to change the way an audience thinks and feels and acts — tells a story. Resonate shows you what kind of story to tell and how to tell it. Nancy’s insights, gleaned from Joseph Campbell’s work on myths and from modern-day masters of screenwriting, is both insightful and practical. You would do well to buy the book for those insights alone. And then you’ll find so much more to savor. (Her analysis of King’s “I Have a Dream” speech is a marvel; it gives a new way of appreciating a well-known masterpiece.)

Here’s just one example of what Duarte offers: “Create a moment where you dramatically drive the big idea home by intentionally placing Something They’ll Always Remember — a S.T.A.R. moment — in each presentation… The S.T.A.R. moment should be a significant, sincere, and enlightening moment during the presentation that helps magnify your big idea — not distract from it.”

She then lists, explains and gives examples of the five types of S.T.A.R. moments: 1) memorable dramatization, 2) repeatable sound bites, 3) evocative visuals, 4) emotive storytelling, and 5) shocking statistics.

I highly recommend Resonate. Let me know what you think of it.

In an earlier post, I reflected on how a speech is like (and unlike) a conversation.

Today I’d like to argue that a speech is like an essay. (I’m reading a collection of essays by George Orwell, All Art Is Propaganda, which got me to thinking about this connection.) 

George Orwell

There’s no definitive definition of an essay, but it’s generally described as 1) a relatively short composition 2) written from the author’s personal point of view 3) that attempts to analyze, understand, or explain a particular theme or subject.

A speech is — or should be — relatively short. I think 20 minutes is a good length for a speech. You can talk longer than that (sometimes you’re asked to speak for an hour, for example), but if you do you should break your speech into shorter (i.e. under 20 minutes) chunks. And you should always remember that while it’s a sin to run over your allotted time, it’s almost always a blessing to finish early.

A speech expresses the speaker’s point of view. If you try to be neutral or objective or to sound like anyone and everyone else, there’s no reason for you to give a speech. Let someone else give it. Or better yet, let no one give it. Invest your wisdom and understanding, your values and passion, your personality in all of its unique and odd splendor into what you say and how you say it.

And a speech attempts to make sense or a particular topic. Just one topic at a time, please. You can talk about a sophisticated, multi-faceted topic, but if you really need to talk about two (or more) topics, give two (or more) speeches.

Preparing a speech, like writing an essay, involves thought: you have to take a position, criticize it, examine the supporting evidence, test its logic, address objections, and refine it. And giving a speech, like publishing an essay, requires commitment: you have to risk putting yourself and what you really believe on the line for others to see, hear, and accept or reject.

What do 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?

A fellow speech coach and past owner of a speakers bureau, Sandra Schrift, works a lot with professional speakers and with people who want to get paid for speaking. She helps them craft what she calls a defining statement — one or two sentences that identify their target audiences, the topic they speak about, and the benefit they provide.

I’ve always liked the concept of a defining statement — it sounds classier than “an elevator speech” — and I’ve used many of Sandra’s suggestions.

But lately I’ve realized I use a variation of it that I call an undefining statement. I use it as a way of distinguishing myself from others. I say what I don’t do — how I’m unlike other people who do what I do — in order to highlight what I do do.

I might say, for example, ”Unlike other speech coaches who focus primarily on delivery — on how people stand and move and sound when they’re giving a speech — I show my clients how to develop a strategy and a compelling message so that their speeches accomplish their goals.”

Here’s how it works. Fill in the blanks:

“Unlike other ____________________[your competitors]

who _________________________________________[describe what they do or how they do it]

I ___________________________________________[describe what you do or how you do it].”

Saying what you don’t do or how you don’t work or who you don’t work with is a way of setting yourself apart. It’s much better than saying you’ll do anything for anyone. And it’s a way of more concretely defining who you are and what you do.

What do you think?

Remote or virtual presentations — teleseminars, webinars, etc. — make a lot of sense for so many reasons. But they also complicate matters. To keep your audience engaged when you’re not standing in front of them looking them in the eye is a major challenge.

Nancy Duarte posted a great piece addressing this very issue, “Six Tips for Remote Presentations.” I highly recommend it. Check it out here.

She explains her six tips in detail and with great examples. I’m simply listing them here and adding a brief explanation in my words (not hers) so you’ll know what she’s talking about. (You really need to check out what she says.)

1. Develop content that activates your audience.
   Build your presentation around one, clear, big idea–something that will change how your audience thinks or acts.
2. Modify your slides to be you.
   Since your audience can’t see you, you can build credibility by making your slides represent you. Make them warm, clear, and inviting.
3. Create a real presentation environment.
   Make the space you’re in conducive to giving a presentation. Stand up while you’re talking. Have someone in the room with you or even have pictures of (friendly) people you can look at while you’re talking.
4. Lure and re-lure your audience.
   Break your presentation into small bits. After you finish each bit, do something to re-engage your audience’s attention. Make your content emotional. Humor helps.
5. Remove all distractions.
   It helps to have a moderator whose entire function is to free you up to pay attention to what you’re saying. Cover over anything on your computer (instant messaging, for example) that might distract you.
6. Use good netiquette.

Do you have any tips you’d add?

I came upon a blog — I can’t find it now, I’m looking for it — that asked the question: Is PowerPoint evil?

That’s not the question.

There are actually three questions that need to be asked:

1. Is PowerPoint a good tool?
2. Is PowerPoint a well-used tool?
3. Is PowerPoint the right tool?

I’ll address all three questions in future posts. But in brief I think it’s an adequate tool that can be used well (though it is most often used poorly) and that is the right tool for a limited number of applications (though it is frequently used for every sort of presentation.)

Before I say more, what are your thoughts?

In my last post, A Speech Is Like a House, I compared various aspects of designing and building a house to creating and delivering a speech. And I compared delivering a speech to painting the house. I think I would change the analogy a bit to say that delivering a speech is like decorating the house. (Painting is part of the decor, of course.)

Ugly decor — a bad paint job and a poor choice of window treatments and the like – can make a great house ugly and unappealing.

And a poor delivery — a lifeless voice, a gazillion ums and ers — can make an otherwise terrific speech fall flat. So delivery is important.

But if a house has no foundation, if its support beams are termite infested, if its walls and floor and ceilings are caving in, no amount of paint can save it. 

If a speech has no goal, no concern for the audience and what it wants to learn, no clearly developed core idea, no unifying structure, no regard for language and style and logic (what used to be called rhetoric), a masterful delivery can’t save it. It’s rotten and it should simply be torn down and thrown away.

But, in my not so humble opinion, delivery is the last thing to work on. (Notice, I did not say the least important thing.) What do you think?

Photo courtesy of Wonderlane at Flickr.