Cicero, the great Roman statesman and orator, said that he preferred tongue-tied intelligence to ignorant loquacity. That’s a convenient polarity, and one we’re familiar with.<\/p>\n

We see the former occasionally when college professors make an appearance on national TV. They can look like owls with ruffled feathers blinking in the glare of daylight. We see the latter in religious and political demagogues, strutting across the stage belching clouds of rehearsed phrases in predictable cadence. We all prefer thoughtful speakers<\/a><\/strong> who have something to say.<\/p>\n

But it’s not really a fair distinction. For instance, we can have tongue-tied ignorance and intelligent loquacity. An example of the former would be the poor unfortunate Miss South Carolina<\/strong><\/a>, who got nervous when asked why Americans couldn’t find their own country on a map of the globe.<\/p>\n

And then we have Hans Rosling<\/strong><\/a>, a doctor, researcher, and inventor of the Trendalyzer, who is intelligent and <\/em>loquacious. Substance, style, humor and surprise combine to make this guy one of the best presenters<\/a><\/strong> you will see.\u00a0 If you have a few minutes, click on this gripping video.<\/p>\n

Cicero was being a snob and had his tongue in his cheek. His witty remark only draws attention to his own erudition when he says that he prefers substance to style. And he was known as a great orator who had both, only he didn’t want you to notice his style. He wanted you to pay attention to what he was saying.<\/p>\n

Style that is unrelated to substance we see as antique, grandiose, and phony. We worry that if we wave our arms around too much when we speak, people will think we’re imitating William Jennings Bryan.<\/p>\n

So we choose a different style–one that is conversational and carefully moderated for the intimacy of our zoom lenses and lavaliere mics. We might like to think of it as “natural,” but in reality it is as much a style as any other. It is a behavior that we choose to achieve an effect.<\/p>\n

19th Century orators waved their arms around and shouted over the rooftops because they wanted to be seen and heard. There were no video-magnification screens around the battlefield when Edward Everett spoke for two hours at Gettysburg before Lincoln got his chance. No microphones allowed him to give an intimate grave-side chat to the grieving throng. Horses were neighing. Dogs barked. The wind pushed his voice back into his mouth . To focus the eyes and ears of the audience, Everett needed to pump it up.<\/p>\n

Let’s not be snobs and argue that we prefer substance to style. Such a stance often masks an inability or unwillingness to capture and hold the attention of others.<\/p>\n

Instead, let’s say that style brings life, texture and nuance to substance.<\/p>\n

Let’s say we prefer our speakers to be confident, to know what they think, and to feel the truthfulness of their thoughts as they speak them. The substance of style is the feeling of truth in the words being spoken.<\/p>\n

I prefer intelligent loquacity to tongue-tied ignorance. I prefer style that brings substance to life.<\/p>\n

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