Life After PowerPoint!

A PowerPoint diagram meant to portray the complexity of American strategy in Afghanistan certainly succeeded in that aim.

The New York Times ran a great article yesterday — great, because I agree with so much of it — called “We have Met the Enemy and He is PowerPoint.” Read it here.

(My book Real Leaders Don’t Do PowerPoint, which was published last year, addresses some of the same concerns. Read more about it here.)

The article raises issues about how PowerPoint is used in the military (and, by extension, everywhere else). These are the three main problems I’ve picked out of the article:

1. It is a poorly used presentation tool. When it is poorly used — that is, most of the time — PowerPoint produces some of the most confusing and boring presentations imaginable. That’s for two reasons.

   First, presenters don’t think through their presentations. They don’t analyze their audience, establish a goal, create a logical and persuasive structure, select the most telling evidence, and create a clear message. They don’t consider what other types of support material — like handouts or white papers or demonstrations — might better help them communicate their message. They simply turn on PowerPoint and begin “populating slides.” They then read the slides to their audience, inevitably speeding up at the end of their presentations because they’ve run out of time. They print up PowerPoint notes as pre-reading material, as handouts, and as leave-behinds.

   And second, presenters don’t even use well the one thing PowerPoint is good for — projecting images. They create confusing graphics (like the one pictured above), charts and graphs that can’t be read (have you ever tried to decipher a spread sheet imported directly from Excel?), endless lists of bullet points or, worse, entire paragraphs of text.

2. It is the wrong presentation tool to use.The real problem with PowerPoint, to my thinking, isn’t that it’s so poorly used so frequently. (It is poorly used more times than not.) The real problem is that, even when relatively well used, it dumbs down most presentations.

   PowerPoint makes it hard — not impossible, but hard — to present complex material and sophisticated ideas. You cannot present the same amount of detail on a slide that you can on a hand out, for example. Complex thought, which isn’t the same thing as complicated or confusing thought, requires you to string together a lot of material in a coherent and meaningful argument. The connections are what matter, the way information is ordered and tied together. PowerPoint allows, even encourages, you to present discrete bits of information without needing to make any connections. You can simply show a slide, talk about it, and say “next slide.” You don’t have to show how the information on one slide leads logically to the information on the next slide. You can present a succession of slides — tons of information — without giving your audience any sense of what it all adds up to.

   PowerPoint’s best feature — its ability to project images — is also one of its greatest flaws. Images can be problematic, because they can impede reflection and deep thinking. We can see something — the photographs from Abu Ghraib prison, for example — and think we understand what is being shown and what it means. And when we see a rapid succession of images, especially if they’re powerful or visually stimulating images, we are even less likely to probe their meaning and implications.

3. It is time consuming and costly.
   
   To avoid the errors associated with my first point above — the poor use of PowerPoint — you have to spend a fair deal of time and energy on creating each presentation.There are some great PowerPoint Presentations out there. (Go to TED: Ideas Worth Spreading for examples of how to use PowerPoint in a way that will blow your audiences away.) If every PowerPoint presentation were as well designed and rehearsed, you wouldn’t hear people talking about “death by PowerPoint.” But imagine how much time, energy, expertise, and money goes into producing those great presentations. Do you have that many resources available to you?

What do you think?

Last week I listed some of my least favorite words and phrases – words to avoid. And a number of people added their own.

But there are two phrases I hear all too often that rank at the top of any list I could compile of phrases to be avoided, derided, deplored.

It’s a toss up, in my mind, which phrase is worse. You decide.

1. “You probably can’t read this, but…”
Which means: “I’ve lifted a graphic or a spread sheet from some other program. I haven’t taken the time or the care to change it in any way before importing it directly into PowerPoint. It looked fine on my monitor. I mean, I could read it and everything. I didn’t think that an audience might not be able to read it when it was projected onto a screen in a large, well-lit auditorium. Oh well, too bad. I’m going to talk about it anyway.”

2. “Next slide.”
Which means: “I haven’t thought about how all the information I’m talking about ties together. I’m treating my presentation like a series of free-standing, independent slides. I simply talk about the information that’s on one. And then I talk about the information that’s on the next one. And so on and so on. I don’t sum things up. I don’t give an overview. Why bother explaining how the information is related or how one point connects to another? The important thing is that I communicate as much information as possible, right? Let the audience figure it out, if they can.”

I’m sure there are other phrases that rank right up there (or down there) with these two phrases. What are your least favorite phrases?

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 always love lists of overused, trite, important-sounding words. The list from Lake Superior State University (found here) holds these words (rightly) up to ridicule:

1. Shovel-Ready
2. Transparent/Transparency
3. Czar
4. Tweet
5. App
6. Friend as a verb
7. Teachable moment
8. In these economic times….
9. Stimulus
10. Toxic assets
11. Too big to fail
12. Bromance
13. Chillaxin’
14. Obama-prefix or roots

My least favorite phrase — it’s been around a long time — is “to make a long story short.” I appreciate the concept, but in my experience people who use the phrase are merely pausing in the middle of a boring recitation to catch their breaths. They then continue making a long story longer.

What phrase or word irks, irritates, or rankles you?

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?

March is Listening Awareness Month according to the International Listening Association, and since I believe listening is by far the most important part of communicating I offer these comments…

Speakers and presenters do most of the talking during a program. Sometimes — during keynote addresses to huge audiences, for example — they may do all of the talking. But, if you’re a masterful speaker, you actually do an equal amount of listening. Maybe even more.

First, you listen before you speak. It’s called research or speech preparation. You speak to the meeting planner. You reach out to prospective audience members. And you ask questions. Then you listen, not to confirm what you already believe but to uncover something new and to begin forging a bond with some of the people you’ll be addressing. (That’s what listening does — at least in part: it exposes you to the thoughts and feelings of others, and in the process it creates a relationship.)

Second, you listen as you’re speaking. This is difficult to do when you’re just starting out. Usually, you’re so nervous that you spend most of your energy focusing on yourself. You’re trying to avoid panic, to remember what you’re going to say next, and to slow down. You can’t imagine what it might mean to listen to your audience as you’re speaking. But if you get beyond all that and tune in to what your audience is saying to you — what they’re telling you in a thousand different ways through their body language, through the way they’re looking at you, through the quality and nature of their silence — you’ll become a much more powerful speaker.

Third, you listen during the Q&A portions of your talk, if you’re taking questions. (With a few exceptions, you should always, in my not so humble opinion, take questions.) The ability to understand what people are really asking and to respond in an appropriate way is what sets great speakers apart from all the rest. Listen on as many levels as possible: listen for the factual basis of the question, for the emotions underneath the question, and for the intent of the question. And then decide which level to respond to.

Finally, you listen after you’ve spoken. Listen to what people say about what you’ve said. Don’t just listen for praise or criticism. Listen to find out how people understood your presentation. Did they get the main point? If someone says, “I really liked your speech,” don’t go fishing for more compliments. Ask, “What’s the main thing that you remember about it?” Don’t try to correct them. (You’ll often be surprised — I know I am — when they attach to some relatively minor point you made, and loved it.) Just listen.

(You might want to take the listening quiz I created and posted here.)

Are there other times or ways you listen, as a speaker or presenter?

Photo courtesy of Ky Olsen at Flickr.

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?