Last week I went to the third and last day of a meeting for engineers.\u00a0 After lunch, one of their senior leaders stood up and\u00a0summarized every presentation they had experienced during the past three days.\u00a0 As he began to speak about each presentation, he put up a new slide, and each slide was a beautiful photograph of a bridge.<\/p>\n

London Bridge, Pont Neuf in Paris, that famous bridge in Venice I can’t remember the name of–and the\u00a0George Washington\u00a0Bridge, lit up with a thousand lights strung along its spans in the dark.<\/p>\n

I liked the images, but I spent time staring at them and wondering\u00a0what they meant.\u00a0 Were they meant to say that he was “bridging” back to previous content in the meeting?\u00a0 Or was he bridging from “Engineering” content to the upcoming presenter who was about to speak on the subject of Emotional Intelligence<\/strong>?<\/p>\n

Then he added another layer of complexity to the experience by linking the lyrics of songs to each of the bridges.\u00a0 Apparently he could recall the lyrics of popular songs with ease, and he would recite, say, a few lines of “Bridge over troubled waters” as the picture of the George Washington bridge appeared with the now destroyed World Trade Center in the background.<\/p>\n

At last he announced the subject to be addressed by the next speaker, and he showed a picture of his young blond son in his shiny blue soccer uniform running at full tilt after a ball.\u00a0 He spoke about his experience as a father attending his son’s games–how many other parents witnessed the entire event from behind a “chunk of plastic and wires.”\u00a0 And with that,\u00a0he put his hand up to his face as though he were holding a small video camera.<\/p>\n

I felt a sensation in my body begin to move into my chest.\u00a0 Because he then said that those who watched the game from behind a camera could not easily jump up with joy when their child scored their first goal, or run out onto the field to join the team as they embraced their hero, or participate head, heart and hands in the support of the team.<\/p>\n

Nor can a camera man quickly respond when his son is injured, he said, or be the first one at his side, or engage with the other parents, or enjoy the animal spirit of competition.<\/p>\n

“That’s my view on emotional intelligence,” he said.\u00a0 Then he introduced the speaker.<\/p>\n

He spoke with such earnestness and authenticity that I was truly moved–literally moved–because something moved through<\/em> me.\u00a0 Perhaps because of his previous dullness I was jolted by\u00a0his sudden authenticity, but something happened in that room full of 250 engineers.\u00a0 The\u00a0man changed the atmosphere by speaking with real emotion<\/strong>.\u00a0 It was palpable.\u00a0 He bent the air.<\/p>\n

Here’s the thing.\u00a0 I don’t remember a thing he said about the umpteen presentations he recalled for us.\u00a0 I only remember the images, the stories, and how I felt.<\/p>\n

Makes me wonder about the 50,000 or more intelligent PowerPoint presentations<\/strong> delivered every day in the meeting rooms of America.\u00a0 How long did it take to create them?\u00a0 How much did it cost?\u00a0 And just what is the ROI–The Return on Intelligence–when there is\u00a0little imagery, and no\u00a0emotion?<\/p>\n