Your message and other things you say

Another thing that stuck out to me in last night’s debate was the person with which the candidates talked about themselves.  In almost every case, they used inherently first-person: “I”, “me”, “my”.  I suppose that’s understandable given that we all will vote for an individual on the ballot, but from a communications point of view, it is more connective to use the inclusive: “we”, “us”, “our”.

The vast majority of the tone was things like, “I will do this…” and “I won’t allow that to happen.“  I think it would sound better to include the American people with phrases like, “We can’t let this happen…” and “We won’t do this under my watch…“  It’s a subtle difference, and perhaps I’m just too cynical to believe that one person can do  as much as the candidates claim they can, but I think the public is the one who bears the brunt of the decisions, and thus should be included in the discussion.

It sounded egotistical to me to hear candidates talk about what they will and won’t do, when we know that our government doesn’t work that way, exactly.  Another advantage to the inclusive is the ease with which is defensible.  It’s OUR problem, then, not just MY problem.  And WE can fix it.  Suddenly I’m involved, and not just reading newspaper articles watching my future (and my children’s) unfold.

To his credit, Barrack Obama did include some others by naming people he gets advice from. The list was clearly pre-cleared and chosen for specific reasons (and that’s not a bad thing at all).  I didn’t hear McCain use a similar list (but admittedly I didn’t watch the whole debate).  But even such a list sounds like it’s the exclusive elite running the show (which we know to be the case, but can’t we hope that we truly do have someone working for US in such a position?).  I never felt that either candidate made anything involve me, and that’s a communications no-no.

Inclusive language is a must for leadership. Involve your audience by including them in your tone and speech.

Watched about 30 minutes — and then the final 5 minutes — of the Final President Debate tonight. Once again, it is amazing to me that with so much on the line (it’s not even a remote stretch to say that the balance of power in the free world is at stake) we have individuals who have apparently failed to get coaching on some very basic communication skills.

Please understand this is an apolitical observation. This has nothing to do with what these men stand for, how it aligns with my beliefs, or what character they possess (or not). I’m just talking communication. To wit:

• Neither man used eye contact to generate confidence. There were shifty eyes and a lot of looking down (you could tell they missed their teleprompters).
• Both use an incredible amount of non-words, especially when using a defensive posture answering the other.
• I didn’t feel either was particularly polite until the final comments. I realize it’s a dirty, mean, political campaign, but I also believe common courtesy is worth using.

But the thing that struck me the most was the incredible overuse of statements to announce “facts”, “points”, and “truth”. I’m scared to try to estimate, but it seemed that almost every statement, rebuff, or accusation was prefaced with “The truth is…” or “The point I want to make is…” or “The facts are…” And at no time did I feel that I was getting straight facts when either man said this (as evidenced by the ubiquitous grin and sarcastic head shake by the accusee during the tirade).

If points and facts stand alone, they needn’t be announced with lead-ins. Stories shouldn’t start with, “Let me tell you a story.” (Good) jokes don’t begin with “Let me tell you a joke.” And good political rhetoric shouldn’t have to put banners and headers on every statement. Make the points clear and definitely delineate the big ones, but every issue needn’t have such a title.

The more you state that there’s a point or fact or that things are true, the more cause I have to doubt you.

Having just spent a week at Walt Disney World, I have to say their ability to answer questions is what sets them apart. In the times of this economic stress, I have to think they’re a little scared — family vacations are likely the first thing to get cut. But the smiles never stopped and the answers to our questions never went unanswered. From the top on down, it is apparent that attending to the needs of the folks that pay the bills is paramount. If I asked the street sweeper (the job I most do NOT want at WDW), I got answers (closest water fountain over there, AND you can get a free cup of water at ANY drink kiosk). When I was in the cab of the monorail (a COOL job), the driver never tired of my endless queries (they have 180 monorail drivers and can take ~300 of the 65,000 visitors each day to the park in a single train). The ticket-taker at Space Mountain entertained my questions (1815 riders per hour). The lady trying to sell $16,600 Disney Vacation Club memberships answered a steady stream even when it was obvious I was just killing time waiting on Cinderella to get out of the bathroom before the big dinner. The front desk clerk kindly explained that Classic Car Memorabilia charge was in fact a stroller rental, and did it with grace and a smile, even across the phone line. And so on, and so on…

I’d guess that the same is true with your business. Answering the questions of your clients, potential clients, or even just folks you run into is paramount to success. And yet few do it well. I have a colleague who rarely answers email. Others who get voice mails leave them unanswered regularly. Even face-to-face encounters seem to be focused on putting off answers instead of coming up with them. It’s socially rude and business suicide.

Answer questions. Timely. Accurately. Happily.

Had a student suggest a fourth ‘F’ when we were discussing the question, “What do you do when something out of the ordinary or bad happens while you are speaking?” (see last post for the other three Fs answer).

He responded, “Freak out!”

Of course, I don’t advocate that course of action, but it helped to underscore just how important scripted responses and templates are to helping us convert high-pressure situations into wins for us personally and the organizations we represent. When you can respond with knowledge and close the gap between what we as speakers feel is proper and what our listeners think is proper, we have a great chance of connecting with them and getting the responses we desire.

Don’t have a cow, man! There are better ways to deal with the stress of speaking.

Got a bad haircut yesterday. It looks pretty weird. But in my world, the difference between a bad haircut and a good haircut is about 2 weeks. It’ll be fine.

But I hate it. It bothers me. I want so much to make sure everyone knows I hate it. That way I can make all the bad haircut jokes, and not have to endure such heat from them. But as I teach and speak, my audience who sees me for the first time (and probably those who already know me) likely don’t care — most won’t even know it’s bad, they’ll just assume I normally look like a wet rat by choice.

So I’m faced with three things to do about it as a speaker:

1. Feature it. Make note of it. Build it in to my content. Make it part of my routine. I can’t imagine why I’d do this over a marginal haircut.
2. Fix it. If it’s something that can be changed, then change it. If you drop the whiteboard marker, don’t draw attention to it, just bend over and pick it up. In the haircut case, unless I want to be bald or close to it (I don’t), this is not an option.
3. Forget it. This is the hardest thing for a speaker to do, because it is on our conscience. But incessant apologies or comments about something that don’t matter to our audiences is just distracting (remember Rule #1!). This seems like the best option for prickly hair, no matter how hard it is for me, the speaker.

When faced with something that is wrong, bad, annoying, or on our conscience,

Feature it, fix it, or forget it.

With the folks I coach, it seems that many believe looking at notes is a bad thing for a speaker to do. People try all sorts of sly ways to get around pausing to look at their notes: from furtive glances to drive bys to strategic placement of cue cards.

I’ve found that it really isn’t an issue. There are very few instances when a speaker won’t be given a pass for taking a second or two to collect his/her thoughts. The audience WANTS the material to be clear and organized well. And most appreciate the pause and a chance to collect their thoughts.

The problem is compound by the notes that people take on stage. People try to write War and Peace on notecards and pages. This becomes a huge issue on stage because they can’t find their place. The solution for experienced speakers (those who do it regularly) is to adopt a standard structure to your notes, so the same things (like major points, examples, quotes) are in the same place and look the same. For folks who speak infrequently, it’s about keying thoughts. Use trigger words — something to get your mind going.

The rookie mistake is to write out sentences and whole thoughts. In the moment of truth, you WILL try to read them, and it WON’T come across natural. Find the thought; formulate the sentence; deliver the words.

When it’s time to look at the notes, pause and don’t speak to the notes — EVER. Read what you have to read, then reconnect with the audience and deliver. Amazingly enough, you’ll have more attention that way than if you read your notes. People want to connect with a speaker, not be read to.

Use notes. Use them effectively.

I heard a speaker the other day open his talk with a joke. Jokes aren’t inherently bad, but I definitely counsel my clients to avoid them when natural humor or stories are available. But here it came. The punchline of the joke involved a disgraced public figure. Not only does she have a tarnished image, but significant legal headaches and criminal accusations to go along with it.

But wait, there’s more. The punchline also involved a racial stereotype. Not necessarily a bad, demeaning stereotype, but still…

Ordinarily when I’m an unknown in the audience, I keep my mouth shut (those who know me well doubt my ability to do that) and I have come to overlook communication faux pas rather easily. But this one stuck with me, because I had some insight into the heart of the communicator as well as the image he wished to portray.

So I called him on it. His position afforded me (and Google) the luxury of finding his email, and I reread my composition several times before sending it. Its tone was very “you may wish to consider“. I’ve done this a handful of times and usually been sent a defensive reply. Or worse.

I was surprised to read the open of his very quick response: “You are absolutely right, and I stand corrected. Thank you for taking the time to help me improve.” He went on to offer a defense, but his overall tone was one of acceptance and thanks. And this from a guy who is a professional speaker who has attained more public success than I’ll probably ever have.

Those kinds of folks make the greatest students. They are able to see past their strengths and take advice and coaching on how to get better. I can only hope that I could be as gracious when I receive a tip/advice/criticism the next time.

If someone is vulnerable enough to offer advice, we should…

Figure out what we can learn from others.

Talking with a friend yesterday and he made the comment, “Comfort is the kiss of death.“

While this might overstate the point a bit too much for my tastes, it underscores an important point — in ANYTHING we want to improve.

When we are comfortable:

• we don’t feel any great need
• we stop noticing things around us
• we stop concentrating on the little things
• we loosen up, and often say things we shouldn’t

There are certainly good things about comfort:

• the situation doesn’t add stress
• we are able to focus on other things
• we can make others around us comfortable

But comfort cannot be our goal. Today’s paper compares two runners.

One had all the comforts of suburban America. When faced with the greatest pain in her life on the greatest stage of her life, she mentally returned to the place where she was comfortable. It allowed her to press on and finish third — in the WORLD. Had she wanted to stay just comfortable, she never would have put herself in the position to hurt — and win.

The other trained in wartorn Iraq. Nothing about her training was easy. Bribing guards just to have a place to train is hardly comfortable. But that just drove her to focus on the ultimate dream.

In both cases, if the athlete sought only for comfort they would have fallen well-short of their goal.

The same is so true for speakers. I am faced all the time with presenters whose goal is apparently to be comfortable. They are only keeping themselves from achieving great things.

Don’t let comfort be your goal.