Archives For Sell Ideas

complex speechAll speeches have to be clear.

If you confuse an audience, they tune you out. They may even turn on you, angry at you for wasting their time or making them think harder than they want to.

One way to make a speech clear is to keep it simple. Reduce the scope or complexity of the idea you’re presenting, and focus on a single feature or aspect of it.

The problem is, although simplicity can facilitate clarity, it can also dumb down an otherwise smart idea.

Some ideas—some of the most insightful and incisive ideas—are by nature complex. And if you simplify their complexity in an effort to make them clear, you’re doing a disservice both to your ideas and to your audience.

Don’t confuse “complex” with “complicated.”

Something is complex if it is composed of many interconnected parts.

Complicated is something else altogether. Complicated means “difficult to analyze, understand, or explain.”

I’m in favor of complex speeches, not complicated ones.

If your idea is complicated, you’d be better off writing a research paper or a white paper or a formal proposal. Written pieces give people time to digest what they’re reading, to pause when needed, to refer back to a previous point, to look something up, to think about one point before moving on to the next. None of that is possible in a speech.

Complex speeches don’t have to be complicated. They can be quite clear, even elegantly clear. It’s a matter of identifying the various pieces of the idea and arranging them in a logical fashion.

If you are yourself simpleminded or if you think your audience is, then by all means eliminate all complexity.

That’s what most people running for political office are doing these days. They’re taking complex issues, involving problems that have stumped people for years, and proposing a simple, one-size-fits-all solution.

Here’s the real issue. The simplicity or complexity of your speech should be determined by the idea itself. If the idea is simple, make your speech simple. If it’s complex—yay for you!—make your speech complex.

Either way, make sure it’s clear.

Check out How to Plan a Speech.

 

interrupted story, speechEveryone knows by now—or should know—that telling a story is one of best ways to make a speech interesting, powerful, and memorable.

I’m not talking about fables or stories that are made up out of whole cloth simply to illustrate a moral. Or about stories you’ve found on the internet or heard from some other speaker or read in a business book.

No, I’m talking about true stories. Stories that involve real people, actual events, risks and struggles that have tangible consequences.

I prefer personal stories, stories that feature the speaker in some way without, mind you, making him or her the hero. But telling someone else’s story—as long as it’s not widely known and properly attributed—can also be effective.

One of my favorite ways of telling a story in a speech is what I call the interrupted story.

If you haven’t used this technique yourself, you’ve probably heard a speaker use it.

How the Interrupted Story Works in a Speech

Begin telling your story. Jump right in without preface. Avoid saying, “I’d like to tell you a story.” Just start.

Establish the context of the story and present the main character. Then introduce a wrinkle of some sort, a “disturbance in the force.” Not a major crisis. Just an event or thought or circumstance that gives you the opportunity to pause.

Stop telling the story. Step outside of it for a moment to comment on it, to look at what’s happening below the surface, to connect the main character’s concerns or feelings or problems to those of the people in the audience.

Then pick up your story again. Carry it forward until you get to a point where the audience wants to know what happens next.

And stop. Leave them hanging for a moment. Comment on something—an added piece of information, an insight, a question—that adds depth or resonance to the story.

And do it one more time. Tell your story right to the climax. And stop. By now your audience is hooked. They want to know how it ends. So what you say at this time—the main point of your speech—lands on expectant ears and hearts.

Then finish the story. And briefly, in one sentence, if at all possible, finish your speech.

You can  build an entire speech around your story, if it’s a good story. But why would you tell any other kind of story?

What’s your experience with this type of speech?

 

You might want to check out Hallmarks of an Effective Speech.

 

When giving a speech, business leaders today tend to choose one of two options: speaking from a written speech (a script) or from  a list of talking points.

The Plusses and Minuses of Speaking from a Written Speech or Script

A script for a speech is a written text: a word-for-word document that speakers read to their audiences.

On the plus side a script is carefully constructed. It has a beginning, middle, and end; a logical and persuasive flow; and the right balance of information, ideas, explanations, illustrations, and stories.

A script uses rhetorical devices—phrases and sentences that are both memorable and moving—to engage the audience’s hearts and minds.

And a written speech makes the speaker sound smart, articulate, leaderly. (Is leaderly even a word?)

On the minus side, writing a speech is time-consuming. It’s expensive, if you don’t write it yourself. And it’s difficult to get right. (Not many people have the training or experience needed to write one).

Also, few speakers have the ability to read a script without sounding stiff and overly formal.

The Plusses and Minuses of Speaking from Talking Points

Talking points are a list of the most important information and ideas—summarized in a phrase or short sentence—concerning the topic of the speech.

The biggest plus of talking points is efficiency. It takes several hours, sometimes many days, to write a speech. You can throw together a list of talking points in the morning and be ready to speak by lunchtime.

And when you speak from talking points, you sound, well, unscripted. Given todays political and cultural climate, audiences think they’re hearing the real you.

The main minus of relying on talking points is that, well, you should unscripted. Unless you’re an accomplished, articulate speaker, your speeches will sound like an ordinary, everyday conversation: rambling, unfocused, and lacking any clear direction.

What’s the alternative to speaking from a script or from talking points?

What if you don’t have the time to put into writing a speech but you want something more focused and purposeful than talking points?

I recommend using what I call “soft scripting.”

A soft script is hybrid. It has elements of a fully written script, but it looks like a list of talking points.

A soft script is a very detailed outline—maybe two pages long—with a very clear structure:

  • an introduction that captures people’s interest and gives an overview of what’s to come;
  • three to five main points that explain, substantiate, and illustrate the speech’s main idea; and
  • a conclusion that issues a call to and an impetus for action.

It captures in writing carefully crafted phrases and sentences that are meant to be spoken word for word.

A soft script takes more time to create than a list of talking points, but less time to write than a script. It makes speakers sound smart and spontaneous. And it presents a clear and persuasive argument without wasting time or an audience’s attention.

Teleprompter, Speech, ScriptDonald Trump has nothing but contempt for politicians who use a teleprompter when making a speech.

He gives every appearance of standing in front of an audience and simply saying whatever comes to his mind. He extemporizes. He does not give prepared speeches.

Trump seems to think that using a teleprompter and, by extension, speaking from a prepared script somehow makes a speaker inauthentic. Insincere. Less authoritative.

Is that the case?

Does relying on a script — one that you’ve written or had written for you — make you a bad speaker? Does it lessen your credibility? Does it dilute your message?

Of course not. On the contrary, preparing a script and speaking from it is the best way to improve your speaking.

Giving a speech is like undertaking any project. You wouldn’t simply show up unprepared and wing it. Not if a lot was at stake. Not if you wanted to succeed.

Continue Reading…

Rhetoric + RageI’m both fascinated and appalled by Donald Trump’s popularity in the political arena these days.

As a student and practitioner of public speaking, I think his popularity is rooted in his skillful appeal to people’s sense of rage.

He has perfected “the rhetoric of rage.”

What is Rhetoric?

Rhetoric is the artful use of words to persuade.

The goal of rhetoric is not to educate or inform, not to entertain or amuse, not to convince or convert.

The goal of rhetoric is to move people to take action.

To induce people to act, you may have to educate, inform, entertain, amuse, convince, and/or convert them. But the goal of rhetoric is always action, action, action.

Logic and reason don’t move people to act. Emotions do.

What is Rage?

Rage is anger that is so intense it threatens to explode into violent action.

We may seethe with anger, but rage makes us want to lash out at someone.

Rage, like anger, is a reaction to the perception that someone has deprived us of something we value.

There are, therefore, three elements of rage:

  1. Loss: We no longer have something of value that we once possessed or think we had a right to.
  2. Deprivation: We don’t have it, because it was taken from us.
  3. Adversary: “They” took it from us.

By itself the sense of loss does not fuel rage. The appropriate response to loss is grief.

At the root of rage (and of anger) is a sense of injustice. “It’s not right.”

Whereas anger is the impetus to make things right, to restore justice, rage seeks revenge.

Rage isn’t satisfied with reclaiming what was lost. It wants to punish those who stole it in the first place.

Rage requires an adversary, an enemy, a villain, a them. (They are specific people or a specific class of people, not impersonal forces or events.)

The Rhetoric of Rage

Rhetoric and rage are made for each other.

Rhetoric wants to move people to act. Rage makes people want to act.

To use the rhetoric of rage:

1. Remind people of what they’ve lost.

Have they lost their social status and the rights and privileges due to them? Have they lost their jobs or financial security? Have they lost the right to impose their beliefs and values on others? Have they lost their confidence in government, social institutions, and the very future?

Don’t confuse them with facts or logic. They may not have possessed in the first place what they think they’ve lost. Or they may not have had the right to it. That’s not the issue. What matters is that they think – or more importantly – they feel that they’ve lost it.

2. Frame that loss as deprivation.

Losing something of value makes people sad and powerless, which they don’t like. So tell them it was taken from them. It’s not their fault they lost something valuable: it’s someone else’s fault.

3. Identify the adversary.

This is easy. Given the right mind-set, there’s always someone to blame: immigrants, gays, women, terrorists, criminals, the one-percenters.

Make it personal. “We’re losing the cultural war” isn’t as powerful as “Gays are destroying the very definition of marriage.” “We [whites] are becoming the minority” doesn’t move people as much as “Mexicans are streaming across our borders, bringing drugs with them, and taking our jobs.”

What do you think? Am I on to something? What would you add, subtract, or refute?

A speech can never be better than the idea it promotes.

You can dress up a stupid, lame, or vile idea in spiffy visual aids. You can present it with verbal and nonverbal pyrotechnics. And as a result, you may wow your audience.

But wowing an audience doesn’t mean a speech is any good.

The most captivating speaker of the 20th century was undoubtedly Adolph Hitler. He mesmerized audiences, and yet look at what his ideas led to.

Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will showcases one of Hitler’s speeches and shows its effect on the audience. It’s a remarkable – and chilling – piece of propaganda.

The proof of a speech’s merit is in the idea it implants in the audience’s hearts and minds and in the idea’s power to bring about some good.

A speech has to be built around one – and only one – idea. But that idea has to be big in scope or in impact, and big in the moral imagination.

Some ideas are big in scope. They cover a lot of intellectual ground. They insinuate themselves into different fields, altering or integrating seemingly diverse concepts. They change the way people think. Consider Darwin’s theory of evolution.

Some ideas are big in impact. They affect people’s emotions – their hopes and fears, their desires, their aspirations — so profoundly that they change the way they act. Consider the movement for women’s equality.

A speech needs one or the other – an idea big in scope or one big in impact — because a speech is meant to change the way people think and feel and act.

That idea, mind you, doesn’t have to be as big in scope or impact as the theory of evolution or the equality of women. But it can’t be trifling.

A great speech changes the way people think and feel and act…for the good.

That’s where the moral imagination comes in.

Loosely speaking, the moral imagination is the ability to distinguish right from wrong for ourselves, for other people, and for the world as a whole.

An idea that’s big in scope and impact, but that’s lacking in moral imagination, may be effective, but it won’t be good.

When you combine all three – scope, impact, and moral imagination – you get a truly, remarkably, great speech. It’s something to be aspired to.

To counter the image of Hitler giving an effective speech, here’s President Lyndon Johnson giving a great speech.

 

Storytelling and SpeechesThere are two easy ways to introduce a story when giving a speech: 1) Don’t introduce it — just jump right in; or 2) Say, “Imagine…”

When beginning a speech with a story — one of my favorite techniques — it’s not necessary, helpful, or wise to say anything about it. Just begin telling it.

(As a rule: the less you have to explain a story, the better.)

When seguing into a story somewhere later in your speech, you may need to alert your audience that you’re shifting from cognitive content (exposition, explanations, evidence) to an imaginative element.

The easiest way to do so is by using one word: “Imagine.”

Say, “Imagine.” Pause. Then, without further elaboration, tell your story.

Check out How to Tell a Story in a Speech.

Take a StandYears ago I provided consulting and speech writing for a local politician. At one point he asked me how he should address an issue that was sure to be raised during an upcoming event.

The issue was a hot topic in his district. It was on everyone’s mind. It had been discussed and dissected in depth. It was also controversial.

“Tell me where you stand on the issue,” I said, “and I’ll help you fashion a position statement.”

Without pausing, the politician turned to his chief adviser and asked, “Where do I stand on it?”

That was our final meeting.

Where do you stand?

When giving a speech there is no neutral ground, no objective position, no noncommittal perspective.

Speakers worth listening to take a stand. They don’t just state the facts as objectively as possible and let listeners make up their own mind. They stake out a position and advocate it passionately.

There are three basic ways of taking a stand during a speech.

  1. We can stand with.
    We can align ourselves with people or with a particular group of people — with their concerns, values, welfare. When President Kennedy spoke to the people of Berlin during the height of the Cold War, he declared, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” staking out his solidarity with the citizens of the divided city.
  2. We can stand for.
    We can speak in favor or in defense of an issue, cause, policy,initiative or program. President Lyndon Johnson, a son of the segregated South, addressed Congress in 1965 and urged it to strike down laws that kept blacks from voting. “I speak tonight for the dignity of man and the destiny of democracy,” he said.
  3. We can stand against.
    We can oppose something — a policy, an accepted attitude, a way of doing business — refusing to tolerate what we consider wrongheaded or abhorrent. In President Obama’s eulogy for Reverend Clementa Pinckney, he stood with the grieving congregation, for racial justice, and against bigotry and its accompanying violence.

We stand on our principles, on our deep and abiding beliefs, on our gut-level predispositions.

Our audiences should never have to guess where we stand. And we should never have to turn to anyone else and ask, “Where do I stand?”

How often do these little indignities repeat in your professional life?

  • You give a presentation about something important, but everyone ignores it.
  • You are asked to propose a solution, but shy away from doing it because you lack the skills or confidence.
  • You get overlooked by everybody — including your boss — because other people sound like they know more than you do.
  • You get passed over for a promotion, because people don’t understand what you’re talking about.
  • You watch a colleague get credit for an idea you proposed earlier but with less poise.

You may have great ideas. You may know more than other people. You may be an expert in your field.

But what good is your experience and knowledge if you can’t communicate it? If you can’t make people pay attention? If you can’t make them value what you’re talking about and want to do something with it?

Knowledge isn’t power.

Putting knowledge to use is power.

And communicating knowledge — in writing and in speaking — in a way that lets people understand and act on it is one of the most valued skills in business today.

Trey Parker and Matt Stone, creators of South Park, offer advice about storytelling that can help anyone creating a PowerPoint presentation.

Many Most PowerPoint presentations are ineffective, confusing, and/or boring because they lack cohesiveness and flow.

You know how it goes.

Presenters show a slide and discusses it. (You hope they don’t simply read it to you.) When they finish with that slide they say, “next slide.” Then they discuss it and say — you guessed it — “next slide.”

Entire presentations can be are a series of disconnected information and ideas: “There’s this and this and this and this and this…”

The unanswered question is: How does all of this hold together? How does one idea lead to another? Is there a logical connection?

The most important words in PowerPoint presentations aren’t on the slides: they’re between the slides.

The segues — the transition sentences — from one slide to another are what turn a series of disconnected information and ideas into an insight audiences can understand and use.

That’s where Parker and Stone come in.

In a lecture at NYU they describe how they create stories for South Park. On a large whiteboard they outline a series of “beats.” (A beat is the smallest unit of a story, a piece in which something happens.)

If the beats are linked by the words “and then,” Parker and Stone insist “You’ve got something pretty boring.”

They suggest eliminating every “and then” and replacing it with either “therefore” or “but.”

Not “this happened and then this happened,” but “this happened, therefore this happened” or “this happened, but then this happened.”

Try it the next time you prepare or practice a PowerPoint presentation. Every time you catch yourself saying “next slide,” substitute “therefore…” or “but…”

Figure out how the information or ideas on one slide lead into the information or ideas on the next. Do they build logically (“therefore…”)? Or do they logically raise an objection or another consideration (“but…”)?

As the expert you understand (I hope) how your material holds together. Don’t assume that your audience understands. Show them.

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