Your message and other things you say

In working with so many technical presenters (or rather, technical people presenting), I’ve noticed an interesting trend.  Most of them give feature-rich, technically precise, and logically crafted presentations.  And they’re missing one very important part.

I can’t quite put a finger on why, but they will frequently fail to connect the dots from the facts to come to a conclusion.  They’ll give the architecture diagram, the facts on performance, a comprehensive how-to demo, background on the process leading to the product, what didn’t work, and  a precise  accounting for the project’s investment.  And yet they’ll fail to say why any of that matters one bit.

The phrase I’m falling in love with in helping these folks in their message is “What that means to you is…” When pressed, one presenter said “We think this is a revolutionary step forward that will set us apart in the market.“  His presentation was full of facts and figures but nothing close to that statement.  I guess he thought they’d figure it out.  He almost seemed apologetic for even mentioning it.  I guess he thought that ’spin’ should be left to marketing, or that trying to convince anyone is left to sales, or explaining next steps is a job for tech support.

Whenever a presentation is essentially a lesson in facts or information, the temptation is to stop right there.  But most often, the next step to tell the listener what the meaning and value to them is the most important one.  Don’t allow a listener to infer or have to make their own suppositions about what they should get from the talk.  Lead them to a logical, proper, and beneficial conclusion.  That’s why they’re listening in the first place.

Answer the question “What that means to you…” for the audience.

It’s often amazing to me how much is said and how little is communicated.  Many people seem intent on making sure they are heard — not that their message is heard.

It’s Toastmasters contest season again, and due to another obligation I was unable to attend or participate in my club’s contest.  It was a well-publicized event — I received at least three blanket emails and two direct personal ones inviting me to participate.  I know they had contestants — an email said they did and I saw a fellow member outside the club meeting and was told there were folks competing but they needed/wanted more people.

The contest was scheduled for 90 minutes across lunch, ending at 130pm.  At 255pm, I received an email to our entire club saying that someone had been overlooked in the Thank You fest that ended the contest (I’ve posted before about how useless thank yous are at Toastmasters — and anywhere else).  He worked hard (it’s a thankless task) and deserved some recognition.  But after that initial email, six (6) others replied to all to say “Hey yeah, thanks bud! Ditto!“  One person — who, like me, missed the contest — did chime in to ask who actually won the contest, since that was omitted from any of the emails.  Two more people replied to that query, apparently ignoring the request to add “Me, too.  Thanks!” messages to the growing thread.  I still do not know who won — it hasn’t been posted to the web site, and no email has gone out to acknowledge the contest ants (sic), who apparently are just an afterthought.

So what’s the purpose of this string of communications?  One person thanked someone else publicly (and deservedly so).  Five others felt the need to echo that sentiment publicly (when privately would have been FAR more appropriate).  No one felt the need to acknowledge the result of what supposedly was the stated purpose of the whole meeting.  What’s wrong with this picture?

Never hit send unless there is a purpose to the message, and match that message purpose to the (entire) audience you are sending it to.

Was in on two teleconferences today, and in both cases the phone connected groups of people.  It’s always a weird dynamic when some people are live and some are remote.  But the principles of communication don’t change.

In both cases today, I watched people talk to the phone.  Stared it down.  Bored holes in it with eye contact.  And rarely even acknowledged the people in the room.  I observed the expected result.  Very mundane speech, little passion, and lots of run-on.  This is expected when a presenter doesn’t engage his audience.  I just can’t figure out why otherwise good presenters neglect the live audience for the remote one. At one point the local audience mashed the mute button and completely ignored the phone conversation completely.
Watch your local newscast as a case in point.  When the camera pans out and includes the whole desk of folks, they talk with one another while including the camera.  It comes across much more animated and natural.  When they stare into the camera on the tight shots, it is seldom as animated.

Include your live audience to increase energy and connectivity.

Read today that Radio Shack laid off103 400 workers.  Big deal.  People get the pink slip every day.  Well, if it’s you that got the pink slip, it’s a very big deal.  And Radio Shack, in the interest of delivering the news “quicker” and in a way that “allowed more privacy”, delivered the news to these workers via… e-mail.  Seems they had 30 minutes to ponder the news before Guido showed up to escort them from the building.

While e-mail termination notices are likely easier on the managers doing the firing, and probably (maybe?) a little more efficient than one-on-ones with the (overpaid?) management chain, it certainly doesn’t have the feel of a company that is interested in relationships with their employees.  And most good businesses thrive on good relationships.  And most good relationships thrive on good communications.  And good communications is personal.  It is received by a person who takes the message to heart in a personal way for personal use and personal application.  Good communicators can talk to thousands at once and make each of them feel special.  Bad communicators can talk to folks one-on-one and make no one feel special.

Receiving bad news is never easy.  Giving it may be tougher.  But if the focus is on a relationship, the time and human touch is worth the effort.  Press releases and emails are for marketing blurbs, publicists, and people too lazy to actually develop a relationship.  A letter that clearly was mass-produced via a computer doesn’t have the same feel as a hand-written note.  A phone call is nice touch when a note would do.  And a personal visit is great when a phone call would do.  Nothing beats the eye contact of a personally delivered message.
In a related factoid, Radio Shack shares rose 1.6% today.  Stockholders evidently don’t care about building relationships, either.  But I’ll bet there are 400 less potential Radio Shack customers today, and I’ll bet they all tell someone.  Someone might even blog on the issue.

Make communication as personal as possible.

Frequently in life the things that are not said carry meaning that goes well beyond words.  But when action is expected from words, clear honesty is the best practice.  I had a chance to spend some time with a world-reknown speaker over the weekend, and he said that one of the problems with our society is a lack of blunt honesty.  People refuse to address the issues they face, and expect things to work out.  It’s true in the family; it’s true in the corporation; it’s true in society.

A friend is trying to hire for an open position.  An up-the-chain superior came by and dropped a resume “of a friend who might be qualified” on his desk.  What should the hiring manager do?  Is the resume just a formality to an expected hire?  Or is it just an opportunity for some extra attention and the hiring manager still has sway over the course of events?  It’s a HUGE difference, and with only the direction of “I’d like you to look at a friend’s resume“, there isn’t a clear course of action.  Everyone could save a ton of time (and not just a small amount of anxiety) with some blunt honesty here.
Before I read Dilbert to find out what the business world was really like, I obtained my first job on the merits of my resume, or so I thought.  A contact through the organization that held my partial scholarship introduced me to an alumnus of the fine school I was attending, and he requested my resume and offered to take it by HR for me.  Two days later, I got a job offer.  I really did think (as a naive 19-year-old) that my reputation had preceded me.  It wasn’t until I reported for work and my manager started barking orders to what he thought was a senior in electrical engineering only to discover I was a sophomore in aerospace that we discovered there may have been a disconnect between job posting and job hiring.  A little research uncovered that my “contact” was the VP and second in line to the throne.  I was rehired in years two and three without this contact (he had moved on) on what I trust was the merit of my accomplishments that first summer, but I have no doubt a dropped resume with a “why don’t you see if we have anything that fits this” got me my first opportunity in the business world.

Just tonite when I arrived home, The Cook announced we were sans cheese with tacos on the menu, which is a crisis eclipsed only when the ice cream runs out.   The situation was phrased as a question: “Do you think we (you) should make a run to the store or do without?“   I’d much prefer a direct, “Would you (please) run out and get some cheese?” since everyone in the room knew that was the best course of action.  The stakes are lower in the kitchen (or maybe not!) but the principle is the same.  What was desired was not asked for.
Everyone knows that relationships and favors drive a lot of the world’s workings, and most of us have no problems with that (unless we’re left on the outside when a favor is cashed in to someone else).  And many times we ask favors of others.  Most sales are just a response to a query.  But we seem to have lost the fine art of asking.

If you want direct and specific action, ask for it.

How do you grade? Jeff Bailey blogs about Toastmaster evaluations and the slippery slope they create. Since one of Toastmasters major missions is to get folks who are not comfortable speaking in public to cross the divide into the world of perhaps even enjoying it, there certainly is a need for gentleness in helping people’s fragile confidence. Public speaking is often quoted as the #1 fear among adults.

But what about the people who speak frequently, or are forced to speak (when was the last time a client really cared about the feelings of their sales rep?)? What about those sales folks who livelihood depends on the presentations they make? What about parents and what they communicate for those brief 18 years before they send their precious not-so-little ones out into the real world? If all these folks hear is sugar-coated, it’s a safe bet their message lacks the complete effectiveness that is desired.
I watch people all the time who clearly have either:

1. Not gotten a good evaluation of the effect they have while communicating, or
2. Don’t care or didn’t listen to the feedback.

All too often when the communicator is a higher-up, the emporer’s clothers are just splendid. This is another danger point of evaluations, when the evaluator is at risk.

Regardless of the politics, the feelings involved, and the tenuous relationship that may exist, embracing candid and frank evaluations and working at change is the best way to get better. In sales? Ask your clients what they heard. The same technique can work for parents, managers, teachers, and probably most anyone else. Want the real truth? Ask a kid! (My kid asked today, “Why is daddy so mean to me?” This less than 15 minutes after I hung the moon. The reason? I asked him to wash his hands before he sat down at the table!)

Get a good evaluation. Then get better.

As adults, we have a way of clouding what we ask for.  Comments, implications, hints, and inuendo (of all types) seems to make us feel better than asking outright.  Take a lesson from my kids — they ask, and ask, and ask.  There is no doubt about what they want.  My kid (and I!) went roller blading for the first time yesterday.  Today the first words out of his mouth were, “Daddy, can we go to the rollerblading place again?“  “Yes, son, we’ll go again.“  “Can we go today?“  No doubt about what he’s thinking.  But I get calls from salesmen (and women) all the time who want to talk about the weather and make sure I’m “doing OK” (these are total strangers).  Now, I’ve read the sales books that say people by relationships and not just product, but there needs to be a forum for that relationship, and these people want me to buy, so I’d like to hear that, quickly.  Methinks the world could benefit from some of their directness, although I’d not care much for the repetiveness and it’d be nice to use a little social discretion on when to ask.  But some directness in the adult world would be refreshing.  I realize not everyone will agree.
When we are making a sales call, presenting a possible course of action, teaching a course, or even just making a comment in a meeting, the message should be clear.  Our audience should not have to struggle to figure out what we want, or put together a riddle to figure out what it is we are selling/wanting.  And take a lesson or two from kids: you don’t usually get unless you ask.  And no must not always mean no — for they ask and ask and ask.

Make what you want crystal clear.

Had a first-time speaker at Toastmasters104 today — that first speech is called an Icebreaker.  The speaker today, as many have said before her, that “If you had told me a month ago I’d CHOOSE to stand up and talk in front of people, I’d have said ‘no way’.“  And that’s one of the greatest things about Toastmasters — giving folks the courage and the structure and the forum to stand up and get it done.  BTW, this speaker, like most Icebreakers, did a great job.  It was the fear of standing up and speaking that kept the world from knowing about her.
But hangups and inhibitions slow down more than just the first time speaker.  Fear (”a feeling of anxiety or agitation”) of getting turned down keeps many a salesman from asking for the account/sale.  Fear of rejection keeps many a man from dating.  Fear of appearances keeps many a speaker dull and boring, doing the same ol’ because he’s afraid that people might think he’s a bit off kilter for doing something a little out of the ordinary.  Fear of some cartoon character has kept my boy awake the last few nights.
Facing fear is real.  And scary.  But we should draw strength and courage from those first-timers who get it done, and face those monsters — real or perceived — head-on.  Then the second time won’t be so bad.  And the third may even be easy.

Try something new.  The first time.  Today.