All the world’s a stage, which means Twitter is a stage too, a stage that is new to me, and new to most of us. I’ve been told that I need to tweet for marketing purposes. That I should talk about what I’m doing in my business.

But I’m in conflict. Tweeting feels phoney to me. I have a hugely complicated relationship with what I feel is my hugely complicated job running a public speaking and presenting consultancy. I often feel overwhelmed, understaffed, and out of control.

Then I step onto the Twitter Stage, and I have 140 characters to market myself and my company, to capture a moment, and then another, and another and another, in order tell a story that makes me look good.  It feels one-sided to talk only about the good stuff.  What about the rotten stuff?  The client that postponed the big engagement.  The client who bargained me down to the nub.  The brochure that can’t seem to get itself to the printer.  

Everyone’s trying to make themselves look good.  How refreshing, I think to myself, to actually be honest and talk about the bad stuff.  But then I argue with myself that being negative is not positive.  I think maybe I should follow the advice of my marketing guru, and paint a picture of Sims Wyeth & Co. as a fabulously successful company.  Dish out little bits of information that will make the competition jealous.   

I think my conflict about Twitter comes from the medium itself.   It’s strobe-lit story-telling…in slow motion, like submitting to a publishing house every tenth page of a novel you’ve written. 

Or better, when I’m on the Twitter Stage, I feel like an actor who has been working on his lines backstage behind a curtain, and yet just beyond the curtain is a large audience waiting to catch a glimpse of me.  

When I’m ready, I signal to the stage manager.  He nods, counts down from five, and lifts the curtain.  I feel the heat of the spot light.  I sense  the audience out there in the dark.  I open my mouth to speak my lines in my most positive tone of  voice.  I make the gestures I’ve rehearsed.  I try to end with a dramatic flourish before the spotlight goes dark–careful not to go over the time limit.  And then it’s dark.  The spot light is off.  The stage manager lowers the curtain.

The audience does not respond or applaud, but I feel that I have surgically implanted an image and a thought into their minds.    I have sent them a little snapshot of myself and my business in the hope that it will be interesting or helpful. 

And then I return to my work backstage:  blogging, selling, researching, developing new products, until the thought occurs that I must step onto the Twitter Stage again, to create another strobe-lit pose that will dovetail with the narrative flow I weave for world.

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.

According to people who study these things, charisma is a set of behaviors and has nothing to do with physical beauty.  Apparently, there are many average looking people with charisma.

Here are the elements of charisma in no particular order.

Kinesthetic responsiveness: Think Kramer of Seinfeld fame (before his public meltdown) when he slides through the door of Jerry’s apartment and discovers something surprising.  Or think of a cat the instant she sticks her paw into an electric socket.

Contagious laugh: I know a certain VP of sales within the wealth management industry who has inherited a laugh that, once you hear it, will stay with you forever.  He was gifted by the Gods.

Vocal expression of emotion: Isn’t it nice when you call someone and they communicate pleasure and excitement when they hear your name?  Even if it’s subtle, it makes you feel appreciated.

Social touching: This does not mean Clintonesque feel-copping.  It means appropriate social touching on the upper arm, shoulder, or hand.  Waiters who are skilled at this make better tips.  Bush went overboard when he came up behind the Chancellor of Germany and rubbed her shoulders.  She was horrified.

Pleasure being the center of attention: While most of us are ambivalent about being the center of attention, some of us come to life and are at our best in the limelight.  Many great actors are not particularly good company, but give them a crowd and their wattage burns brighter.

Expressive face: Ronald Reagan was called “The Great Communicator” in part because of his expressive face. Our faces attract most of the eye contact given us by our listeners, and the more information they can read there, the more they pay attention and comprehend not only the content, but the emotional meaning of our speech as well.

Outgoing with strangers: In a survey that Sims Wyeth & Co. conducted a few years ago, those who self-identified as intraverts preferred the company of extroverts.  Extroverts felt the same way.  Let’s face it, it’s fun to be in the company of someone who can easily break down the barriers between strangers and create an experience of closeness.

Capable of a seductive glance: A seductive glance is hard to define, but we know it when we see it.  I’ve seen it on babies.  I’ve certainly seen it on my wife (she’s very skilled at this).  And I have to confess that as a teenager, I practiced my seductive glance for hours in front of the mirror.  It was sort of a hazy, hooded-eye cock of the head.

William Blake, the great English poet (and water-colorist) wrote:     

I just finished an engagement developing a presentation to introduce a major Human Resources initiative across a global company.  When I arrived, the client had close to 50 bullet powerpoint slides.  When I left this morning, he had eleven slides, and not one bullet point in sight.

I think what made the difference was moving away from informing the audience about the details of the program, and instead moving toward defining the problem that it solved and arguing why it was an effective solution.

The original presentation answered in great detail the question, “What’s in the HR program?”  The presentation as it stands now answers (with three key points) the question, “What’s in the HR program for the audience?”

You may say this is basic stuff,  and you’re right.  But those of us who have spent an entire year researching and developing a globally useful HR program tend to be blinded by our newly acquired expertise.  We have our new abstract vocabulary (“behavioral competency matrix”), and our knowledge of the incredible complexity and sophistication of the thinking behind the program.  To do it justice, we feel the need to give the audience a sense of its richness.

Meanwhile, back in the minds of the audience, that persistent question we’ve all been taught to answer has to wait for 45 minutes before being acknowledged.  That question rhymes with, “What’s in it for me?”

As for the slides, we took our cue from Cliff Atkinson of Sociable Media, who has argued elegantly that PowerPoint is used most effectively when bullet points are banished.  Basing his recommendations on research in cognitive science, he has helped the business community understand how to communicate in a way that allows people to absorb what’s being said.

We crafted the presentation around images of “The Journey,” starting when a new employee enters the company, and mapping her career through many permutations.  We used the visual element of a beaming young woman being handed the keys to a new car, with the headline saying, “Program X gives you the keys to your career.”

It has not been delivered yet, but I have high hopes for a great success for everyone involved.  I’ll keep you posted.