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What I have to say about lecterns and podiums is academic, but nevertheless worth mentioning.

A podium is a raised platform on which a speaker (or an athlete) stands (look left.)  A lectern is the upright object on which he or she places her papers (look right.)

I know this because my schoolboy Latin tells me so.  Podium, as I remember, comes from the Latin word pes, pedis which means foot.  Think of the word pedal or podiatrist.

Lectern comes from lectere, meaning to read. Think of the word lecture.

There!  I have said it and will not say it again.

Traveling to a foreign country, we will have trouble communicating with the locals if we don’t speak their language.  We may also have trouble reading their facial expressions.

Hillary Elfenbein of the University of California at Berkeley has done a study looking at local “facial dialects.”  As a management consultant, she used to notice that her colleagues were having a hard time with signals coming from people from different backgrounds–signals as basic as whether it was their turn to speak in a meeting.

In a recent paper in Emotion, she put her “facial dialect” theory to the test by comparing French speakers in Quebec to those from the African nation of Gabon.  Reflexive responses such as fear and disgust showed the least regional variation, while serenity, contempt, sadness, happiness, shame, and anger showed the most.

And in tests of recognition–on average, in-group members have about a 10 percent accuracy advantage–the expressions with the greatest cross-cultural differences proved the hardest for outsiders to interpret.

Now the U.S. Department of Defense has picked up on her work, and seeks ways to train soldiers to read expressions and gestures specific to Middle Eastern cultures.

Says Elfenbein, “This is something that can really help as our society becomes increasingly diverse.”

It can also help those of us who work in large, diverse business settings.  And when presenting, we must also be mindful of our facial dialect.

I have rarely seen a presenter in the business world whose facial dialect needs to be reined in.  Most of us need to be more expressive.  After all, there are people in the back row who want to see on your face what the information means to you.

It pays to have friends in high places.

Eric Schurenberg, a neighbor and friend of long-standing, has seen fit to cast me as a poster child for the road less taken to riches. Since I am not rich, and hardly a good example of anything, except perhaps for my prowess in some unmentionable activities, I allow him a poet’s license to use me as he sees fit.

Eric is the Managing Editor of Money Magazine, and I suppose he knows that most of his readers are thinking about how to acquire ungodly sums of money. After all, anyone with even the slightest acquaintance with human nature knows that most of us are fantasizing about our future wealth at least 50% of the time.

The rest of the time, of course, we’re fantasizing about unmentionable activities.

On page 16 of the July edition of Money Magazine, Eric writes the following:

“I watched with a mixture of concern and awe as a friend, Sims Wyeth, walked out of a perfectly good vice president’s post at a consulting firm, in large part because he thought he could make more money on his own as a public speaking coach for executives. It took him six nail-biting months to land his first customer. But now that his business is thriving–with clients like KPMG, McKinsey & Co. and Pfizer–Wyeth can be philosophical about why he took the risk. ‘If you asked me to choose between being bored and being terrified,’ he says, ‘I’d rather be terrified.’”

Let me say that Eric was right to be concerned, while his awe was probably similar to the feelings most people have when watching Evil Knievel jump his motorcycle over three-dozen parked school buses.

I can say in my own defense, however, that I have managed to be born with–well, a pewter spoon in my mouth–spit it out with disgust, enjoy a career as an actor, teach several graduate and undergraduate courses in theater and communication, raise a child and send her to Yale, and remain happily married to a woman who has been called by the New York Times “mercurial.”

And all while sailing through the air straddling a rocket with a landscape dotted with school buses far below.

It’s the only way I could keep up with my friends in high places.

With the average sales call in the pharmaceutical industry now shrunk to less than 30 seconds, medical liaisons have an important opportunity to engage the interest of key physicians at advisory board meetings.

However, there are several common problems.

First, facilitating ad boards is not presenting. In fact, it’s almost the opposite of presenting. Presenters give information, while facilitators pull information out of the audience.

That said, facilitating borrows from the skills of presenting and public speaking because it requires the leader to project confidence and authority, focus the meeting, energize the participants, and connect with the people in the seats.

Here are some tips for facilitating ad boards gathered from some of the most successful liaisons in the industry.

1. Have a battle plan. Most battles are won and lost before the fighting starts. Same with ad boards.
2. Plan the room, the sound system, the air-conditioning, the lighting, the seating, the food, the A/V equipment, etc.
3. Plan your goals, your questions, your wingman (in case you get into trouble), your scribe, your parking lot, your opening, your ground rules, and just who will be the final decision maker in the room should things get hairy. In other words, “Who is the quarterback?”
4. Plan to rehearse the night before with your colleagues.
5. Tell your colleagues to stay engaged. When physicians see industry professionals BlackBerrying, or doing other tasks in the back of the room, it sets a very bad example. Don’t let them do it, and don’t you do it when your colleague is in front of the room.
6. Choose your questions wisely and put each on its own PowerPoint slide. They should flow in a logical order.
7. Have enough energy and assertiveness to be the locomotive that pulls the train of thought in the room.
8. Enjoy yourself. You are much more engaging when you are having fun.
9. Listen to what people say. Repeat it back to them to make sure you’ve understood. Ask follow-up questions.
10. Listen to what people say. Don’t pretend to listen while you’re thinking about what you’re going to say next (this is a big one!)
11. Follow your battle plan and be prepared to switch on the fly. No battle plan survives the first encounter with the enemy.
12. Be a lion-tamer. Don’t let big cheeses stink up the place by holding forth (I’m mixing metaphors.) Say, “Doctor Lyons, thanks for your input. I want to hear from some of the others.” And then call on a mouse.
13. A mouse is a participant who doesn’t feel comfortable speaking up in a large group. Mice have good things to say. Call on them by name and encourage them to give their opinion.
14. Stifle the snakes. A snake is a doctor who is negative, who poisons the room. You should not engage in argument with such a person. Call on another doctor who has another point of view to neutralize him. Perhaps your wing man will step in and move the conversation in a different direction. Or you can simply bring up a question about other information that contradicts the negative perspective. E.g, “What does the group think of the new xyz study as it pertains to Dr. Rattler’s remarks?”
15. Demand respectful and attentive behavior. Blackberrying, newspaper reading, side conversations, and other forms of rudeness should not be tolerated.
16. It’s best to get everyone’s agreement at the beginning. Lay down the ground rules and get them to say, “Okay!”
17. Call them on it. First, ask a Blackberrying snake a question. Say, “Dr. Copperhead, what’s your response to Dr. Python’s approach?” That might do the trick.
18. If it doesn’t, try the direct approach. “Dr. Copperhead, may I please have your full attention? We need your input.”
19. If that fails, call a break and speak to Dr. Copperhead privately. Ask him if there’s some other topic that would engage him more fully. If it suits your larger purpose, then weave it in later, but still insist that he give his attention to the meeting.

The list could go on. The real trick is getting comfortable using these techniques when you’re under pressure. A good way to develop your skill is by watching others, borrowing what you like, and adding the borrowed techniques to your own style.

And of course, a good experiential training program will help you up the learning curve as well.

A good facilitator is a gift to the universe–a rare blend of expertise, assertiveness, and genuine interest in others. We are all on that journey, and I urge you to fare forward through all obstacles within you and without you.

One of my consulting firm clients came to me with a problem that surprised me.  Although they hire the most accomplished students from the most competitive colleges and B-schools, the firm is concerned about their unwillingness to speak up at meetings during their first two years.

I recognize that it’s human nature to sit back in a new setting to observe how people behave and learn how to calibrate your style to be most effective.  In fact, the film Tweleve Angry Men is a perfect example of this.  The character played by Henry Fonda is inconspicuous in the beginning, and only asks questions as he begins to participate in the deliberations of the jury on which he is serving.

I further recognize that when one is surrounded by bright, confident, assertive people, each one older and more experienced than the next, (some of whom are your bosses) it is only natural to be cautious in what you say.

Nevertheless, if you are being paid for your ability to think and communicate your thinking, you’re not doing your job if you remain silent throughout the meeting.  This client of mine told me that one of the senior executives at his client company asked, “Who was that guy you had at the meeting?  He never said anything?  Why was he there?”

This kind of overly-cautious behavior can slow down the development of good client relations because it can undermine the trust the client has placed in the consulting firm.

What can we do to help younger people feel comfortable enough to speak up in meetings with more senior colleagues, and with clients who have vastly more experience?

Here are a few ideas beyond telling the shy and the silent that if they don’t talk they’re in big trouble.

1. Become a better listener
2. Become a better questioner
3. Trust your mind.
4. Refrain from thinking while others are talking.  Just listen.  Thoughts will come.
5. Fear is misplaced attention.  Focus on what’s being said.
6. Don’t try to be the smartest person in the room.  State the obvious.
7. Dare to be dull.  Get out of the “Impressing” business.
8. Recognize that what seems obvious to you may be a revelation for others.
9. Agree and add.  You don’t have to find something to disagree with.
10. Ask questions if you don’t understand or you need clarification.
11. Enter the fray.  Get grass stains on your knees.  Have an experience.

If you haven’t already gone to www.squidoo.com you should give it a try.

It’s a great site to find just about anything, including my “lens” (a Squidoo word) on High Stakes Presentations:  click here.

High Stakes Presentations are those when your company and career depend on your ability to drive a strong message and connect with an audience.

It’s important to rate sites.  Here’s how:

1. Log in with your username and password
2. If you don’t already have a username and password, you can do so easily at the top of the page.  It’s free.
3. There are two sets of stars at the top of the Lens, below the banner
4. The right set is identified: “Your rating”
5. Rate the piece by clicking the appropriate number of stars
6. Your rating will be recorded when you leave the Lens and go to another.

Squidoo is like a giant market of resources and information, and is built to appeal to search engines.  Could be interesting!

My sun sign is Libra–the scales.  Whether my need for balance derives from the accident of my birth, or my experience as a speech coach is hard to say.  But from where I sit, most presenters are out of balance.

We have too much substance, and not enough style.  Too much anxiety, not enough expression.  Too many slides, not enough imagery.  Too much abstraction, not enough concretion.  Too much masking, not enough connection.  We have data, data everywhere, and not a thought to think.

Balance is the preferred human condition. We need physical balance to walk and run, but we also need balance in our faculties and judgment–a well-rounded mixture of imagination, reason, feeling and will.

We seek work-life balance, a balanced checkbook, a balanced diet.  To say a man is unbalanced is to say he’s unreliable, inconsistent, even dangerous.  When a company can’t balance its books, it’s in trouble.

Yet when we present to those who are critical to our success–high stakes presentations–we are out of balance.

And when out of balance, we have less ability to bring our ideas to life–and thus we lose influence and persuasive power.

Classical Greek rhetoric tells us that we need to appeal to our listeners in three ways:

1. We need Ethos–an ethical appeal.  We need to convince the audience that we are a trustworthy and reliable source of information. We can accomplish this with our resumes, our reputation, a good introduction from a reputable person, a distinguished title appearing after our name on the first slide, and by being known by the audience.  We can also build our ethical appeal by speaking with confidence, by demonstrating that we are well prepared for the occasion, and by speaking to the audience as an equal–neither speaking down to them, or appearing intimidated.  Good manners are also effective–civility is inherently persuasive. In court, male defendants tend to do better dressed in suits and ties rather than orange jump-suits.
2. We need Logos–intellectual appeal.  We need to have our ideas in marching order–to advance our propositions and defend them with reasons, information, and data.  This is what most of us are good at–we are LOIs: Logos-oriented individuals.  Logos is frequently necessary for persuasion, but hardly ever sufficient.
3. Finally, we need Pathos–emotional appeal.  We get the word empathy from pathos.  We need to know why our listeners should care about what we have to say, and we must remind them diplomatically why they should listen.  Every audience lives on an island of its own interests, and we will get voted off the island if we don’t convince them that it’s in their interest to listen.

Most of us spend a disproportionate amount of time on the logos part of the equation, and fail to invest enough effort in making our talks more appealing–ethically and emotionally.  Perhaps we think that our good intentions will make our content speak for itself.

I’ve heard this called The Curse of Knowledge–the belief that since you know your subject cold, your audience will find it both clear and fascinating.

They won’t.  We need to balance our expertise with a considered approach to the social and pyschological needs of our listeners.