A report to a senior executive group is not a conversation, although it should sound conversational.  It is a communication designed to facilitate a prediction or a decision.

In order to sound conversational you need to be relaxed.  Ironically, relaxation comes from the tension of hard rehearsal.

Get to your recommendations as soon as possible. Don’t make them wait to find out why you are there.

Describe the benefits of your recommendations, preferably in quantitative terms—such as gross margin, time to ROI, or % of market share. Best case, base case, and worse case scenarios also add clarity and credibility.

Describe the costs, positioning them as reasonable compared to other similar projects that you can identify.

Include the downside if they decide not to follow your recommendation.  A favorable statistical confidence interval on your estimates of upside and downside will help.

As usual, occasionally get out of the abstract and into the concrete.  Illustrate the benefits of your recommendation with stories about other companies.  Likewise, dramatize the cost of not accepting your recommendations.

Senior executives tend to be big picture people.  Keep your remarks as short as possible.  They probably have to listen to a number of presentations at one sitting.  If you tell them everything they’ll remember nothing.

Don’t read bullet point slides. It’s the #1 thing people hate.  After all, why go to the trouble of a meeting if all the speaker does is read.  The senior people need to see you bring your idea to life, and demonstrate the character traits necessary to make it happen.

In terms of delivery, this is not the time to display your wild passion.  Just be extremely clear about what you want to do, why it’s a good idea, and how you plan to get it done.

Take away:  help them make a decision or a prediction.  In the fewest words possible.

Needle in a haystack

The audience will be drinking data from a firehose.  The savvy presenter recognizes this peril as an opportunity.

To capture attention—do something that stands out from the environment.  The opposite of getting attention is camouflage. Being attention-getting is not a quality; it is a contrast.

Trying too hard

Lots of people will be trying to stand out, and they’ll make the mistake of telling jokes, displaying cartoons on the screen, or trying to connect with the audience by telling stories about themselves.

Don’t do it.  The audience is content driven, results oriented, and time pressed.  They have limited space in short term memory.  Eliminate all extraneous information.

Not setting the scene

In an effort to get to the point, many speakers will forget to remind the audience of the back story—the space in which their molecule competes, and what the unmet medical needs are.

Your drug is the hero of a story.  It is stepping onto a stage to overcome important obstacles and bring health to sick people.  Set the scene so your drug looks like it has an important job to do.

Offending the experts

Analysts and other savvy investors may curl their toes in agony if you spend too much time on the big picture.

Set the scene quickly, then summarize in a fair and balanced way the achievements of your compound before you walk them through the data.

Using the word, “Robust”

The term “robust” has become a meaningless buzzword, especially in a scientific context.  Be the first presenter to dispense with using it.

Instead, make a statement that is meaningful, such as, “The data are promising,” or, “The data suggest…”

Going down rabbit holes

If you leave information on your slides that you don’t plan to talk about, you are inviting savvy listeners to drag you down into the weeds, which will choke your message with irrelevancies.

Unless there is an ethical reason that the audience needs to know it, keep it off the slide if it does not support your argument.

Not making an argument

There are some presenters who believe their job is to deliver information.  This approach leaves too much room for the audience to draw their own conclusions.

A good scientific presenter should make an argument for the quality of the study, the validity of the data, and the implications of his conclusions.

Blowing Q&A

It’s easier to make a slick presentation than it is to handle a room full of skeptical and insightful questions.

Brainstorm with colleagues to come up with all possible lines of inquiry, and practice responding to the most penetrating and damaging assaults.

Lack of conviction

Finally, your delivery stands guard over the material.  Great data poorly delivered at a high stakes venue is a huge waste of resources.

Rehearse, and where you falter, alter.

The arts of music, poetry, literature, and drama have been around so long that each of them has templates.  To dismiss templates is to ignore the wisdom of the ages.

To name a few, music has verses and choruses, poetry has sonnets and haiku, literature has novels and short stories, and drama has setting, character, plot, and resolution.

Templates exist for speeches and presentations too.  Past to present to future is one.  Cause and effect is another.  Thesis, antithesis, synthesis is yet a third. But by far the most useful in the business world is the situation, problem, solution template.

 In business, define the problem first, then argue for your solution.

Sims Wyeth is a private speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in executive speech coaching 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.

I am still holding my ground against Ford Harding.  We have been debating the relative merits of raising FUD (fear, uncertainty, and doubt) in persuasive arguments, or GOG (greed, opportunity, and glory.)

For previous exchanges, please click on Fud, Gog, Ethics and Rhetoric and Fud in Public Speaking and Persuasion

Ford seems to think that GOG is better than FUD.  I think they work together, and that one is not better than the other.

I follow what the ancient Greeks taught.  Aristotle taught that speakers need to make three types of arguments in order to be persuasive.

The first is the ethical appeal:  you argue that you are a trustworthy source of information.  You do this by casually referencing your experience or expertise, and perhaps with some self-effacing humor.

The second is the intellectual appeal.  You argue by stating your point and then proving it with reasoning and facts, or you present your facts and reasoning and then conclude with your point.

The third type of argument is the emotional appeal.  You try, through stories, or humor, to arouse an emotion in your listeners.

Cicero, the great Roman statesman, thought the emotional appeal was the most important.  He said, “…tickling and soothing anxieties is the test of a speaker’s impact and technique.”

Ford, please note that he said, “… tickling AND soothing anxieties,” and Cicero was no slouch as a speaker.  He knew what he was talking about.  He seems to be saying that whenever we propose to an audience that they make a decision, we should bring up the pros and cons.

For instance, you might say that if the listeners don’t do what you recommend, A, B, C and D are the negative consequences they might expect.  However, if they decide to do what you suggest, you would argue that they could enjoy X, Y, and Z.

I’m sure I don’t have to remind you, or anyone, that your reasoning should be fair and balanced.  Using FUD or GOG is ethically neutral.  One is not more virtuous or ethical than the other.  It is not our technique that makes us unethical, but our intention.

And by the way, most speeches, articles, plays, novels, and movies are structured in the same way.  They single out a problem, consider its implications, and explore solutions.

Humans like problems because problems resemble puzzles, and we love puzzles.  We derive great pleasure from solving them, and grow as a result.

FUD gets our attention on the problem.  GOG drives us toward a solution.

They are the one-two punch of human growth and accomplishment.

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.

Webinars seem to be a promising, cost-effective way of building relationships with prospects, but they’re hard to do well. As a medium for communicating with groups, they have their own quirks and require a lot of preparation. Here are a few rules of thumb.

First, define your desired outcomes in terms of what the audience will get out of attending your webinar. What are the problems they want to solve, and what are the questions they want to have answered? Then outline your main points (not too many) and gather evidence to support your main points.

Finally, create or select your PowerPoint slides. Please note that strategy comes first, then the selection and arrangement of content, then the slides come last…not the other way around!

Then rehearse. Time yourself. Build your confidence by building your certainty that you know how to bring your material to life and get it done on time.

Okay, now that you’ve prepared well and rehearsed, it’s SHOWTIME!

Start with a really good visual. Get them to focus right away.

Follow the new 45-60 second rule: display no visual longer than 45-60 seconds.

Use color to divide each slide into thirds: beginning, middle, and end–each a different color.

Slides should be even simpler than normal.

Timing is key. Work through your material rapidly.

Have an engaged listener in the room with you so that you have a real face to talk to–one that sends you signals to which you can repsond.

Maintain a high energy level. Webinars are like radio: The higher the excitement level, the more likely listeners are going to stay tuned. Rev it up.

Use a second speaker. Get yourself interviewed, or interview someone else.

Prepare questions for Q&A, just in case nobody has a question.

Keep your answers to questions as brief as possible. Be diplomatic at all times. And hit one of your main points in your response.

Eliminate all extraneous graphics.

Beware clip art and cutesy stuff. No puppy dogs.

Keep it business like and professional. Do not hype yourself with give aways and promotions.

Finally, make it crystal clear what is the next step for your listeners. It should be easy to contact you by phone, email, or regular mail.

Dividing the Dais

Sharing a podium is a frequent method for by-passing yet another dry presentation and (we hope) generating heat and light between two or more people seated on stage engaging in friendly verbal exchanges.

In my experience, each speaker prepares and delivers a short talk (less than 10 minutes) on the topic being considered, takes a few questions from the moderator, his fellow panelists and the audience.

After all the panelists have had their turn to address the audience for 10 minutes, the moderator encourages the audience to ask more questions, which they do, and each panelist, in turn, ventures a response.

It can be a good model.  It limits the damage that any one presenter can inflict on a meeting.  It allows for a variety of perspectives.  It is more audience-centric than a traditional presentation.  And if the moderator is good, she can create drama by teasing out the differences between panelists and creating healthy debate.

But speakers and panelists should remember a few rules of etiquette.

1. Prepare your opening remarks as you would a public speech.  It should be engaging, formally presented, and end on time.
2. If you are first to speak, acknowledge at the start the moderator, the sponsoring organization, and your fellow panelists.
3. If you can, and if it’s allowed, stand to deliver your opening remarks.  If there’s a lectern, move to stand at it.  Please click here to learn the difference between a lectern and a podium.
4. If you are not first, it is always a good idea to find something positive to say about those who spoke before you.
5. If you want to disagree with someone, do so in the most diplomatic manner.
6. In fact, before disagreeing, ask the speaker you disagree with if your understanding of her remark is correct.  If she says yes, then you may proceed.
7. It is never a good idea to say, “You’re wrong,” to someone, especially on stage.  Rather, you could say, “I see it differently,” or “I have a different perspective.”
8. Resist the temptation to be the center of attention.  Your goal should be to contribute to the public discourse by throwing whatever light you can on the subject.
9. Refer to your fellow speakers by name.
10. Remember to sit up straight and project your voice, even though you may be seated (I sound like my mother.)  Make sure you make effective use of any microphones supplied.  And finally, visibly enjoy yourself.  Refrain from looking and sounding like a leg of lamb moldering on the table.

The audience will be alert to any signs of tension between panelists.  Treat your fellow speakers with respect, and your character will speak even more persuasively than your thoughtful remarks.

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.

Glossophobia is the fear of public speaking. It comes, like all the other phobias, from the ancient Greeks, more specifically the Athenians, who spent time thinking about speech communication.

The word itself comes from the Greek word for tongue (glossa) combined, of course, with the more familiar root word for fear (phobos.)

For those of you who are Jackie Gleason/Ralph Cramden fans, it means, “Hummina, hummina, hummina,” accompanied by an urgent finger inserted between neck and shirt collar, with an audible “Gulp,” at the end.

Glossophobia is a disease to which all of us are susceptible, and is associated with several co-morbidities.

Hyper-Infoitis: The swelling of information in the body of a talk, usually caused by an insecure speaker trying to impress her audience with her expertise.

PowerPointitis: The proliferation of PowerPoint slides, caused by the mistaken belief that a presentation is what the speaker says, and not what the audience can take away.

Oldnewsatoid Syndrome: An illness that causes the speaker to tell the audience what it already knows (common in Medical Education.)

Laser Pointer Obsessive Disorder: The need to clutch, fondle, and wiggle a small, thin, pointed object with a magical little hole in the end from which comes a beam of intense light

Hyper Logorrhea: The tendency for speakers to speak so rapidly that the audience has to conclude that the speaker is brilliant but completely unintelligible.

Uhmatosis: The swelling and swarming of inarticulate groans and pre-verbal utterances that get stuck in the cracks between words and stink up the flow and impact of human speech.

Repetitive Uptalk Illness: Occurring primarily in young females, debilitating to their professionalism and credibility, it corrupts the intonation patterns of their speech so as to make them appear needy of approval, paradoxically earning them disdain.

These are just the first seven co-morbidities associated with glossophobia. Our speech scientists are hard at work diagnosing other illnesses that cascade from this terrible human scourge.

Stay tuned.

Let’s take the word presenting. Let’s play with it.

Could it mean bringing ideas, and information into the present?

For instance, could we say that the job of a candidate for office is to make real the information about her past (her track record, how we got in this pickle), make palpable the dangers from overseas, and make vivid the picture of the future she wants to lead us toward?

None of these things are actually present at her speech. Her past is buried in her memory unless she tells the story well. The foreign threats are oceans away. The future is a bank of fog to be sculpted, mainly by random events. And yet her job is to make us feel the importance and power of each of these absences.

To make the absent present! That’s a good definition of presenting. Suppose you’re a pharma brand director selling your marketing plan to senior executives. Is your product present? Probably not, because more than likely your product is an idea–a molecule– and has been embodied by manufacturing. It’s everywhere and nowhere. It’s an idea!

Is your market present? No, it’s absent because it doesn’t actually exist. It too is an idea. We conceive of all that drives people to buy and sell and give that conception a name: the market. It too is everywhere and nowhere. It is also an idea.

And of course your plan is an idea–an idea that is developed based on an accumulation of information about the market. The only way to introduce your idea to your audience is through the skillful use of symbols–words and images.

Suppose you’re a manager of a Hedge Fund, and you want to raise assets under management. Does your product exist in the room in which you’re presenting? Well, yes, it does to a certain extent, because the product is you and your judgment, coupled with the judgment and expertise of others on your team.

But in the selling of investment management services, the product is value, and what that value means to the recipient. Is that value present? No, it’s not. The professional presents her idea for creating value, and if the prospect is convinced that the idea will work, he buys it.

It seems to me that presenting is a performance art designed to bring the past, the future, and the invisible into the present. The tools of the art are too numerous to name, but the main ones are words, pictures, stories, and logic–not to mention the intangible human traits of the speaker, and the speaker’s ability to connect her idea to the predispositions of her audience.

Because the human mind cannot hold many thoughts at once, the skilled presenter creates one present at a time. A film director does the same thing. He shows one scene at a time. The film director has many more tools, such as music, and moving images, and environmental sound. But the presenter only has her voice, her skilled use of language, and her ability to paint pictures with story telling or visual aids.

The driving force of presenting is imagination, and the verbal skills required to make the absent present.