I just came back to work after dinner, where, over roast chicken and salad, my wife began to explain to me why some people try too hard.  

I felt obliged to listen, but I was also tired, and had consumed enough wine to permit myself to disengage and become impatient.  I waved my hand and said, “You’re losing me!”  She had hurt feelings.

Part of the problem was that the topic (“people who try too hard”) is a recurring interest of hers, and I automatically leapt to the conclusion that I was about to hear the same story I’ve heard for many years.

But in the spirit of full disclosure,  like many husbands, I am a selective listener.  If I’m reading, or watching TV, or thinking about something else, and my wife speaks to me, I am mindful of my tendency to listen for a split second, conclude that whatever she’s saying is not all that important, and throw up a smokescreen of grunts and nods while I turn off my ears.

This is not good for our marriage, and I sense  she has learned how to do the same thing to me–listen for a few seconds, generate a hypothesis about what I’m saying, and conclude that it’s a re-run that she doesn’t want to sit through. 

One explanation for this state of affairs is that we are, in fact, repeating ourselves, (thematically if not with the exact same words) and that we are now able to predict what the other person is going to say. 

Because what we are saying is predictable, we don’t pay much attention.  There’s nothing new coming out of our mouths–no new thoughts, no radical new insights–and so nothing much of interest.

We know how to fix this.  Skilled in effective dialogue, we will say to each other, “We need new thoughts, new experiences, new growth.  Let’s make it happen.”   And we will.  We will go to the theater, on trips, on vacations, engage in new activities with new people.   We will grow and prosper.

But when that’s over, we’ll have to get down to the real work: the cultivation of curiosity–about eachother–without judgment. 

I can hear us talking about that now.   I will say, predictably quoting Steven Covey, “We must first seek to understand, then to be understood,” and then I predict she will roll her eyes as if to say, “Not that old chestnut!”

And then we’ll really be up against it, and have to be still–still as water–until we get curiouser and curiouser.

 

New research shows that when people need help getting a job done, they’ll choose a congenial colleague over a more capable one.  This tendency has big implications for every organization–and for everyone who seeks to be persuasive as a presenter.

When given the choice of whom to work with, people will pick one person over another for any number of reasons: the prestige of being associated with a star performer, for example, or the hope that spending time with a strategically placed superior will further their careers.  But in most cases, people choose their work partners according to two criteria.  One is competence at the job, the other is likability.  Obviously both things matter.  Less obvious is how much they matter–and exactly how they matter.

To gain some insight into these questions, researchers at Harvard Business School asked people in North America and Europe how often they had work-related interactions with every other person in the organization.  They then asked them to rate all the other people in the company in terms of how much they personally liked each one and how well each did his or her job. 

These two criteria–competence and likability–combine to produce four archetypes (see the above quadrants on the graph):  the competent jerk, who knows a lot but is unpleasant to deal with; the lovable fool, who doesn’t know much but is a delight to have around; the lovable star, who’s both competent and likable; and the incompetent jerk, who …well, that’s clear enough.

These archetypes are caricatures, of course.  Companies weed out the hopelessly incompetent and the socially clueless.  Still, people in your organization can be roughly categorized in the matrix, I’m sure.

The research showed that no matter what kind of organization studied, everybody wanted to work with the lovable star, and nobody wanted to work with the incompetent jerk.  Things got a lot more interesting, though, when people faced the choice between competent jerks and lovable fools.

The studies done in four very different organizations consistently showed that most people would choose a “lovable fool” (someone who, to varying degrees, is more likable than competent) over a “competent jerk.”

At first glance, such a choice is both understandable (it’s nice to be around people you like), and cockeyed (why would you prefer to work with someone who is, to a certain degree, incompetent?)

The answer has something to do with social networks, and getting work done without friction.  After all, if everyone likes the fool, they’ll help him out and enjoy doing it.  In fact, the lovable fool may actually contribute to the productivity of the group. 

Isn’t it strange how powerful personality is?  A good personality covers a host of sins.  I’m always drawn to a speaker with a personality, and I think I’m more likely to buy what they’re selling and remember what they say. 

And isn’t it wonderful that we can point to evidence that being more likable than competent is valuable to the work process–more valuable than being a highly competent jerk?

Looks like an emotional decision can be rational after all.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

 

Here’s the scenario. A bio-tech company will fly to Paris to convince influential French physicians to use their compound-in-development in clinical trials. The company has invited the French doctors to a nice meeting room in a nice hotel and plans to tell the doctors all about the compound.

When asked, “What is the purpose of the presentation?” they say, “To tell them about the drug.” I say I see it differently. I say it’s to help the French doctors come to the conclusion that the bio-tech company would be a great company to partner with, and that the drug is a versatile powerhouse that will almost certainly make it to market and get their names in the best peer-reviewed journals in the world.

When I lay out this plan, they say it is not scientific enough. I am sensitive to that. I like and respect the traditions of science. But I say, “This is not a scientific presentation. This is a business presentation. Science plays a part, but the goal is a business goal. You need these people to believe in your company and your compound. Our job is to induce belief in them, and raise that belief to the level of action.”

We take the scientific and corporate information they already have and restructure it to make a strong argument for partnership. There is some resistance holding out in the recesses of their scientific hearts.

I persist. This is a “decisional” presentation, I say. The French doctors will say, “Yes, No or Maybe.” There are risks for them. They could miss out on a good thing if they say no. They could miss out on better opportunities if they say yes. There are rational calculations to make, including the fact that they have practices to run, assistants to pay, and time to manage.

There are also non-rational issues. They would love to get their names on an important study. They would hate to work for years on a trial of a compound that never gets to market. Should they say no? Should they say yes?

In reality, I would guess their decision will hinge on what the most influential physician in the group decides.

This was a lesson in knowing the audience–in targeting their rational and non-rational needs. The bio-tech firm was relying on the science to do the job. It seemed to me the calculation was broader than that. For the doctors, the decision would be psychological as well as scientific.

Stay tuned.

 

 

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

 

 

 

 

On June 20th in the Wall Street Journal, in response to the media coverage of Tim Russert’s untimely death, Peggy Noonan wrote in her Declarations column, “When somebody dies we tell his story and try to define and isolate what was special about it–what it was he brought to the party, how he enhanced life by showing up. In this way we educate ourselves about what really matters.”

“In a way, the world is a great liar. It shows you it worships and admires money, but at the end of the day it doesn’t. It says it adores fame and celebrity, but it doesn’t, not really. The world admires, and wants to hold on to, and not lose, goodness. It admires virtue. [...] That’s what we talk about in eulogies, because that’s what’s important.”

Reading this, it struck me that we could say the same thing about public speaking. We make a show of admiring speakers who are clever, rich with data slides, equipped with approved platform behaviors and polished texts. But in the end, what we really like in speakers is character.

Character traits that appeal to audiences are varied, but certainly confidence is one, tempered, we hope, with humility. Genuine interest in the audience is another, or at least an empathetic understanding of their needs and concerns.

Finally, I myself like speakers who appear to be authentic, true to themselves, not working too hard to please me, but are nevertheless skilled at holding my attention.

Think about this. When a speech or presentation is over, which do you remember the longest: what the speaker said, or the impression the speaker created?

Decision makers rarely undertake an important project without first hearing the project leader explain it to them. They are listening for two things–grasp of the material, and the requisite character needed to overcome the inevitable obstacles any large project will encounter.

When a presentation is over, and listeners gather to discuss it and pass judgment, the speaker’s expertise is the dimension they consider overtly. But deep down, their decisions are informed by their perceptions of the speaker’s character.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

FUD is Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt.  I first heard the term when consulting at Gartner.  I was working with the analysts in preparing for a Gartner Symposium, and several of them used FUD at the start of their talks to engage the listeners on an emotional level.

For instance, they might have said, “While e-mail may be the killer-app of first generation internet programs, it could very well become the mass murderer of the second generation as it hurls armies of hackers, worms, viruses and spam against the the gates of your corporate security infrastructure.”

I made that up.  But something like that.

Fear-based arguments are common and valid, in my experience.  Our lives are built around the fear of pain and the hope of gain.  Every story we have ever enjoyed in novel, play, film, or ballad is about a person who had a problem (and had FUD) and struggled to make it go away.

In fact, FUD is what makes drama dramatic.  If we don’t have FUD when the pretty young thing all alone in the house on a dark and stormy night hears a sound downstairs and gets out of bed in her nightgown to see what’s happening, then the story doesn’t work.

We have to care about the girl, and we have to be afraid that something might jump out of the closet, hatchet raised.

What if a CIO heard a noise in the middle of the night, and it was her phone, and she heard that a hacker had broken through her security system at work, the one she touted and convinced the company to buy, and she had to get dressed and drive into headquarters and face the embarrassment of a crisis that higher-ups were likely to blame on her?

Those CIOs in the audience listening to the Gartner analysts are human beings motivated by the same things that everyone else is motivated by–the fear of loss, and the hope of gain.  I’m not a CIO, but if I were, I’d be worried about making bad decisions, not looking good when my systems aren’t successful, spending too much, spending too little, and taking too much time to get things done.

We know that humans are interested in their own problems.  We talk about our problems most of the time.  They’re  number one in the conversation hit parade.  If we talk to our listeners about their problems, they are much more likely to listen.  If we demonstrate a firm grasp of their problems, and the consequences for them if they don’t solve the problems, they are more likely to respect us and trust us.  So reminding them of their problems might not be a bad strategy.

There is evidence in social science that it is not wise to use FUD arguments on people who are already in a state of high anxiety.  But there is also evidence that we retain and value information when it is linked to our emotions–any emotions, positive or negative.

Consulting is based on problem solving (i.e., the removal of FUD.)  Philosophy is built around problem solving.   Politics likewise.  For the client, the voter, the audience, beyond the FUD is a vision of a new and better reality.  But our credibility as speakers depends largely on defining, in vivid and human terms, the problem that your content solves.

Let’s not be afraid of FUD.  Used appropriately, FUD can turn a dry information dump into a compelling story about a person, a product, a department, or a company that prevents disaster and saves the day.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

 

What makes smart people dumb?

Elizabeth Newton, a psychologist, conducted an experiment on the curse of knowledge while working on her doctorate at Stanford in 1990. She gave one set of people, called “tappers,” a list of commonly known songs from which to choose. Their task was to rap their knuckles on a tabletop to the rhythm of the chosen tune as they thought about it in their heads. A second set of people, called “listeners,” were asked to name the songs.

Before the experiment began, the tappers were asked how often they believed that the listeners would name the songs correctly. On average, the tappers expected listeners to get it right about half the time. In the end, however, listeners guessed only 3 of 120 songs tapped out, or 2.5 percent.

The tappers were astounded. The song was so clear in their minds; how could the listeners not “hear” it in their taps?

That’s a common reaction when experts set out to share their ideas in the business world, too, says Chip Heath, who with his brother, Dan, was a co-author of the 2007 book “Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die.” It’s why engineers design products ultimately useful only to other engineers. It’s why managers have trouble convincing the rank and file to adopt new processes. It’s why the advertising world struggles to convey commercial messages to consumers. And it’s why many presenters struggle to plant their ideas deeply in the soil of the listeners’ mind.

Part of the problem for expert speakers is their expert language, the terms that their specialized disciplines develop to speak in short hand. These highly specialized languages confer an identity on the speaker, and many of them are reluctant to relinquish this hard-won identity when speaking to the uninitiated.

Another problem is simple over-familiarity with the terrain. Researchers have been over and over their data and their findings in preparing for publication. It’s hard for them to see it through the eyes of a child, or the eyes of someone new to the terrain.

A parallel from my own experience: I find it difficult to give new friends directions to my home, even though I’ve lived there for 15 years. I’m on automatic pilot everyday as I drive away from and then back toward my house. I don’t pay attention to the names of little roads, or make note of landmarks. I know where I am, but my knowledge is tacit–I struggle to make it explicit.

I often ask scientists I’m working with to prepare a talk explaining their work to 5th Graders. It’s a difficult exercise for them–they make so many assumptions, the most obvious being, “Why are you studying the P54 and why does it have that name?”

They forget they have to start at the beginning. I.e., “Once upon a time, there was a Daddy who got very, very sick. He went to the doctor and….”

And suddenly they’re following the Golden Rule: “Speak to the audience, in the language of the audience, about what’s most important to the audience.”

What could have been an incomprehensible talk in a foreign language has become a story about a heroic effort to save somebody’s Daddy.

Everybody can understand that!

And while this may seem overly simple for expert speakers addressing sophisticated adults, the core truth remains valid. An audience needs to know why they should care about the information they are about to hear–they need to have their emotions (or at least their curiosity) engaged in order to listen.

And then they need clear outlines and headers as they’re led through the material. They need all extraneous information eliminated. And they need a good story line, as the speaker brings drama and suspense to the struggle to overcome obstacles and capitalize on the opportunity.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

We often think that the placebo effect comes from the belief that a sugar pill is actual medicine, which leads us to the conclusion that if we believe something is good for us, we get a positive physiological response.

I read of a double-blind study of hotel chambermaids in Paris who were trying to lose weight. One arm of the study was given a real weight-loss product; another arm received a placebo; and a third was told that the work they did in cleaning the rooms was strenuous and burned a lot of calories. The third group lost the most weight.

While medical science continues to debate its causes, there is wide agreement that the placebo effect can also be caused by the attention of doctors and nurses. It is thought that the touching, caring, attention, and other interpersonal communication that is part of the therapeutic setting, along with the hopefulness and encouragement provided by the medical professionals, affect the mood, expectations, and beliefs of the patient, which in turn trigger physical changes such as release of endorphins.

This leads to an interesting parallel with presenting. If we approach an audience as a doctor would a patient; if we diagnose the problem that the audience faces, and prescribe a solution to their difficulty, could we not stimulate the placebo effect?

This would mean that our message would have to be audience-centric. We might not be able to ask the audience questions then and there, but we could describe what we know of their situation, and then, if we gain their agreement that the description is fair and accurate, we could then ask a rhetorical question, such as, “Given that you face these difficulties, what would be the best solution?”

At that point, we are, in essence, thinking aloud about their problem. Of course, we have composed and rehearsed our thoughts. But all our attention is on them as we explore various avenues forward, and because of that, all their attention is on us–the speaker.

And if, like a good doctor or nurse, we lean forward, and express caring and concern in our demeanor and voice, might we be able to trigger the placebo effect?

Yes, yes, I think so. We could have neurochemical impact! Endorphins would flood their bloodstream.

We wouldn’t be talking about ourselves, our companies, our products, our plans. We wouldn’t be doing data dumps. We wouldn’t be talking at them about US! We would be talking with them about them.

And as a result, we would appeal to them, not only intellectually and emotionally, but ethically and chemically as well. They would walk out singing our praises–high on the placebo effect.

And here’s the paradox. Our self-interest is served when we’re more interested in them and their issues than we are in ourselves and our information.

Of course, the body of our presentation would contain all the information we have to impart, but if we frame it around their concerns, we are focused on them, not us.

That’s not bedside manner. That’s platform skill at its greatest.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

 

 

 

Charlie Green and I have been talking about how the good that pharma does gets undermined by certain of its marketing practices. Here’s a blog posting from Charlie’s website, www.trustedadvisor.com that should help us with our navel gazing.

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Pharma has been taking it on the chin for some time now. It’s been targeted by activists, bloggers, politicians and reformers. Next to Wall Street, it’s one of today’s least trusted industries.

But until last week, much of the industry’s response had the flavor of, “if people only knew the whole story,” or “they just don’t appreciate the good we do.”

Fair enough, perhaps. But no longer good enough.

Last week, the industry drew negative cover-page articles in two iconic, industry-friendly major publications.

Et tu, Advertising Age? From the trade magazine of an industry that benefits enormously from Pharma comes this tabloid-like headline:

Vytorin Ad Shame Taints Entire Marketing Industry

Cholesterol Drug’s Ad Campaign Turns Into PR Nightmare, Fanning Flames of Public Mistrust of DTC.

Reports that Merck & Co. and Schering-Plough Corp. kept under wraps for more than a year findings that Vytorin does not deliver results it spent more than $100 million advertising to consumers is much more than a PR disaster for the drug’s co-marketers. Coming on the heels of a New York Times story that Pfizer’s $2 billion drug Lyrica treats a condition, fibromyalgia, that a lot of doctors don’t think exists, the Vytorin news is fanning the flames of public mistrust for the $5 billion direct-to-consumer drug industry — and the ad business in general.

“The pharmas are in big trouble in terms of credibility,” said brand expert Rob Frankel, who runs his own consultancy at RobFrankel.com. “They’re just above Congress and used-car salesmen.”

Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.

But the topper has to be making the cover story on BusinessWeek: Do Cholesterol Drugs Do Any Good?

Never mind the typically well-researched and well-written critique of the industry; never mind the bad press Merck and Schering-Plough got for the Vytorin data, coming on the heels of the Vioxx lawsuits; never mind the bevy of critical testimonials the article digs up.

The plain fact is, once Ad Age and BusinessWeek put you on their covers—in nakedly negative terms—it’s time for some basic re-examination. Low trust is not a surprise to the industry—but this is a wake-up call about the failure of the industry’s response to date.

One of the major pharmaceutical firms (because it’s not likely to be PhRMA, the industry’s trade association) needs to find a voice and take a leadership role—to speak what has become obvious to the world outside Pharma, as represented by leading business publications.

The message is this: the only way to resolve the industry’s trust issues is to become trustworthy—worthy of trust.

• Trust will not be regained by “educating” the public.

• Trust will not be regained by “getting the message out.”

• Trust will not be regained by improving your PR; your PR will be improved by regaining your trust.

• Trust will not be regained by framing it as a problem of image, marketing, or perception.

• Trust will not be regained by coordinating, refining or sharpening talking points; the problem is not getting the message out—it’s listening to the market to hear the message coming in.

The good news is, there are a great number of very well-intentioned, smart people in this industry, who are deeply pained at having been demonized the way they have been. Some are courageously beginning to face up to it.

It won’t be easy for them. Twenty years of success, blockbuster drugs, and an overdose of marketing culture erects barriers to even their good intent.

Further, any gain in trustworthiness must be broad-based.

It won’t be enough just to help sales forces become listeners, rather than shills—though that will help. It isn’t enough to wean physicians from the “consulting” and “education” fees they reap—though that will help. It isn’t enough to deal with the appearance of conflict in researchers and journals’ affiliations with pharma funding—though that will help. It isn’t enough to seek business models beyond patent-stretching, features-tweaking and disease creation—though that will surely help.

It is an industry whose beliefs and practices have become encrusted, making its untrustworthiness opaque even to those who most sincerely would reform it.

So, what will it take?

• Courage, for one. Which does exist; there are some fine people in pharma.

• Brains, for aother. Again, pharma is blessed. The trick is to turn those brains loose; to use the courage to think boldly, examine anew.

• Transparency is required too, though even that is hampered by layers of regulation brought upon itself by the industry’s own past practices.

• But above all, the industry needs a sense of urgency. Not just business urgency, but a personal willingness to face some shame, or disgust, or revulsion; something that comes from the gut and says, “you know, we are better than this; we can do better than this; and I for one have had it.”

I can’t think of any industry where the trust gap between what is and what could be is larger, and where the social cost of that gap is greater. It is in society’s best interest to have a trusted pharmaceutical industry. At its best, the pharmaceutical industry saves hundreds of thousands of lives, and adds quality of life to millions. We are paying gazillions in cost, red tape, suspicion, and lost or devalued lives because of its absence.

We should all be rooting for this industry to heal itself.

The first step is admitting you’ve got a problem.
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- Charles H. Green

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

 

Let’s call her Sheila.  Like many in the financial services industry, she sells with the aid of a pitch book, printed in landscape format and containing information about the history of her firm, her team of colleagues, their range of services, the historical performance of their funds, and their fees. It’s a handsome piece, with beautiful thick card stock for covers, and full color graphs and pictures throughout. It took her firm a year and a half of internal wrangling to produce it.

When we sat down to role play, she directed me to the first page, which was covered with bullet points enumerating the key features and benefits of her firm. I was soon lost in a jungle of terms, ideas, and services with which I was not familiar.

When she paused, I jumped in and asked her if I could tell her about my situation and what I thought I needed. She apologized for plowing through the boilerplate and allowed me to describe the situation I faced.

As I was speaking about the need to get my finances in order and to help my aging parents with theirs, she stopped me and referred me to page 18 in tab 3 to show me her firm’s trust and estate capabilities.

I listened to what she said about their long history helping people preserve assets across generations, but still I felt as though I wasn’t being heard, or I wasn’t hearing what I needed.

I stopped the role play and said that I felt that I was being drowned in information, and that I wanted her to show some bedside manner. I instinctively trusted that she knew about investing–after all, I was referred to her by a friend who used her services–but I did not feel that she had learned enough about me.

As I was saying this, Sheila interrupted me to say that this was just a role play and that of course she would do that in real life. I asked if she was aware that I found it difficult to get a word in. She said no. I began to explain my experience and she interrupted me to tell me that others had told her the same thing.

“What have they told you?” I asked.

“They’ve told me that I interrupt people,” she said.

“Did they tell you how they felt about being interrupted?”

“I assume they don’t like it,” she said. “But some people are just slow. They need to be straightened out.”

“What about your prospects? What happens when you straighten them out?”

“I suppose they think that I know more than they do. That’s what they’re paying me for.”

“To interrupt them? To correct them?”

“Well, I don’t have all day. People shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

I began to ask her again how people might feel about being interrupted when she cut me off to say that she thought I wanted her to use the pitch book–and that was why she hadn’t asked me questions.

I said, “You interrupted me again.”

She acknowledged that she had, but said she had to say what came into her mind before she forgot it.

“But if you do that, you cut the other person off,” I said, “And they feel that you’re dictating the flow and direction of the exchange.”

Our session continued in this manner, and every time Sheila interrupted me, I pointed it out and asked her what she should say.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Yes. What else?”

“I’m sorry? I interrupted you? Please continue?”

“That’s a good start,” I said. “If you can’t change your habit of interrupting right away, at least become mindful of it, and apologize.”

According to a poll conducted by the Gallup Organization, the number one most disliked habit in conversation is “people who interrupt.” The second is “people who use profanity.” The third is “people who mumble.”

And along the same lines, the four biggest mistakes that sales people make?

1. They talk too much
2. They don’t ask enough questions
3. They don’t listen well
4. They are too quick to offer solutions

Let’s call her Sheila, but let’s understand she’s like most of us. We all have our pitch books and boilerplate. We think selling is about talking. We think listening is easy. It’s not, because to listen well requires that we drop our self interest momentarily and help the other person articulate clearly what they have not been able to say so clearly before.

Believe it or not, that’s a great service.

Sims Wyeth is a speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.