Your message and other things you say

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.

At a technical conference, the audience had just sat through about 100+ minutes of technical detail and demonstration. It was interesting stuff (to them) but was quite a bit on the dry side and was a parade of facts and features. The conference organizers had invited a keynote to liven things up at the end of the session.

The speaker trotted out on stage and opened with, “Wow. That was a LOT of information. I guess you understood most of that, but I didn’t. I have no idea what it is you folks do.” That sure isn’t Rule #1 compliant, now, is it?! He then proceeded to mispronounce the name of the company who had hired him twice in the first 10 minutes of the keynote.
While the egregious (I love that word) error is not knowing the audience, a smaller error is admitting it, and essentially separating the audience from the speaker. A speaker should strive to build bridges between the audience and himself, not alienate and separate himself from them.

Know your audience and connect with them.

On a day where we are supposed to stop, ponder, and give cognizant acknowledgment to the many good things in our lives (but here in America, judging from the size of my newspaper this morning, it is apparently about planning our shopping day for tomorrow), let be the voice crying in the wilderness begging you NOT to give thanks.  Or at least not in the method that seems to be increasing in favor, as well as uselessness.
I’m talking about a one-word email: “Thanks.“  I get many of these every week.

You send me an email asking for a review of your PPT slides (God forbid!).  I give you three pages of notes.  You respond: “Thanks“.  Yuck.

I get an invoice for services rendered.  I respond with an apology that the billing had slipped my crack-pot accounting staff and the check will be in the mail FedEx in the morning.  I get a one-word reply: “Thanks“.  Heartfelt.

There are probably places for one-word emails: “Buy“, “Sell“, “No“, “I’ll-agree-when-the-depths-of-Hades-freezes-into-a-solid-mass“.  Trying to convey appreciation is not one of them.

Many of us were taught by our parents to be polite: “Please” and “Thank you“.  And that’s a good thing.  IN PERSON.  Where emotion can be carried with non-verbal cues.  Where an explanation of why can be tacked on.  Where a relationship can be forged.  None of that is done in a one-word TY. Best I can figure, it’s either (a bad) habit or it’s a way to appease one’s conscience at supposedly being grateful, when they’re actually too lazy to pick up the phone and call or draft a heartfelt reply that explains their gratitude.  Most of the time the message really is “I got your email“.  And I didn’t need a response from you to tell me that.

I have vowed to not send any such emails.  It wastes my time and yours.

BTW, I got your email.

Resist the urge to respond to an email with a one-word “Thanks”. Instead, craft a meaningful expression of gratitude or just — gasp — let it go.

I’ve been asked to review some taped presentations of some technical presenters.  I’ve been shown their guidelines — it’s pretty minimal.  The sponsor of the program wants it “interesting”, “exciting”, “informative”, and “imminently applicable to the layman watching”.  I wasn’t sure what to expect.

The people knew their stuff — that was clear.  The slides all had their form and formatting.  The pieces were all there.  Everyone made the cut on their allotted time.  And the first 12 shows I watched all had one thing in common.  Their beginning.  Every one of them began with:

“Hi my name is Fred(a).  I’m a senior research guru in the Hyperbolic Stochastic Hyperspace group. I’m here to talk about fourth order nonlinear Guggenheim functions. Here’s the breakdown of what I’m going to cover today.”

Let’s break this down into the four sentences:

1. Since this is taped (but it would make no difference if it were live), the audience already knows who the presenter is, and made a conscious choice to watch us.  We’re starting by repeating information that is already known, and it isn’t to gain common ground.
2. We’re stating credentials that are about as impressive as the amount of bellybutton lint we produce in a week.  No one cares about our job title but us (unless we’re the president of a country).  Part b of step 2, where we work is inconsequential unless there is politics involved, in which case we stand to lose as much of our audience as we gain by even bringing it up.  The only other reason is to be drawn into the successes of others when our work doesn’t stand by itself.  Neither is a compelling reason to include the group.
3. Again, the audience likely knows the topic or they wouldn’t be watching (attending).
4. In addition to being quite self-centered (and a clear violation of Rule #1), this is fluff to get to content.  While I’m all about previewing content and making order to it, this should be done AFTER there is a compelling reason to listen — it rarely is compelling in and of itself.

So how should we start?  Simple.  The opening of a presentation, speech, class, dialog, or monologue should garner the audience’s attention and get them interested in the communication.  Ideally it gets the audience agreeing that there is a problem and makes a sharp turn to a moral or point, whereupon the presenter provides the solution to the issue at hand.  The presenters name, title, group, speech title, and order of material does none of that.  It speaks boring, eats up two minutes of wasted time, and — when on tape — may just cause people to hit STOP.  The live audiences can’t do that, but mentally they do the exact same thing.  “Wake me when it gets interesting.”

I’ve wondered why this “Standard Start” is so ubiquitous.  I think it’s because that is what is trumpeted around the globe on the conference circuit, replayed in boardrooms around the globe by ‘leaders’, and thus produced by every line employee who has 10 minutes of content to fill.  Imitation is supposed to be the highest form of flattery, but in this case it reeks of lacking any sort of creativity and is simply replicating boredom.

Begin by grabbing the audience’s attention.  Provide credibility along the way, not through an opening title.  Segue to unknown content through a known connection to the audience.

Seth Godin brought to our attention the issue of people apologizing before their talks. I’ll rate this a TTPP (Top Ten Pet Peeve), and generalize further.
It’s not just about egregious time overshoots, but any element that requires the perceived need to apologize:

• “I’m sorry I’m so scattered”
• “I’m sorry you can’t read this”
• “I’m sorry I don’t have handouts”
• “I’m sorry you have to listen to this”
  
• “I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to prepare”
  

Apologizing from the lectern should be restricted to elements that:

• affect and are noticed by the entire audience,
• are under the speaker’s control,
• drive feeling and goodwill towards an acceptance for the issue and point at hand

The vast majority of apologies are self-centered, nervous, delaying tactics with no purpose or need whatsoever.  Unless the audience will likely refuse to hear a word spoken, a talk should never start with an apology. And a phrase to strike from your arsenal is, “I apologize in advance…” which can be translated as “I really don’t care a bit about you as an audience and will do whatever I want.”

Another general rule for any recompense (including apology) is that it should match the crime.  Don’t apologize to an audience of 500 for a sin against one (and also don’t apologize to one when the sin was committed in front of 500).

Make apologies brief, appropriate, and seldom when speaking publicly

Traveling a few weeks back and found a number of customer service stories from the line of work that seems absolutely determined to provide bad service — the airlines.

After missing one flight (due to no fault of my own — in fact, I ran through the airport and arrived 10 minutes before departure only to be told the plane I was looking at was “closed”.  Another post, perhaps) I made my make-up flight that sent me back to where I’d just come from to make another (later) flight home.  I settled in and prepared to sleep.

The flight attendant, smiling sweetly, started about row 2 to ask folks to move.  Story was something like: “We have to move some people towards the back of the plane for weight and balance issues.“  Being a pilot, this got my attention.  A plane that is out of balance can easily become uncontrollable, with disastrous results.  The attendant received blank stares, and proceeded to the next row.  And the next.  People flat-out ignored her.  Finally she goto my row and asked if I — and my seatmate — would move.  Sure, says I, wanting to live to see another sunrise.

To my surprise, we were asked to move exactly one seat rearward, to the exit row (she was selling more footroom and people still weren’t biting).  So in effect, she moved about 350 pounds about 18 inches on a plane that probably weighed nearly 20 tons.  And this was near or at the existing CG (Center of Gravity) of the airplane.

Now I have degrees in Aerospace Engineering and Mathematics, and am a pilot and aviation safety instructor.  While there is certainly a mathematical and aerodynamic change, I don’t believe for an instant it mattered one whit.  Which as a communications coach, raises one of two questions:

1. Why would an Airline-whose-name-means-change-or-triangle-shaped-part-of-the-head-of-a-river employee deliberately lie to customers, with the likelihood very high that they would be found out?
2. Why would an Airline-whose-name-means-change-or-triangle-shaped-part-of-the-head-of-a-river employee charged with safety of flight issues not be instructed as to the ramifications and parameters that must be met to ensure said safety?

My guess is that the regulations require an able-bodied person to actually be in the window seat of an exit row.  Why can’t that be said?  It would even put the blame on some bureaucrat instead of the person standing in front of me.  Either answer is quite disturbing to me.

Tell the truth or find out the reason.  Else you will be found out.

Found a phrase that is a tip-off more than perhaps any other that a speaker is not bound by Rule #1.  It’s very prevalent.  I’ve used it.  We should all ban it from our vocabulary.  The phrase is any one that starts with “I want…”  Some examples:

• I want to cover…
• I want to tell you…
• I want you to know…
• I want to press on and finish this section…
• I want to start class back at …
• I want to go back and cover…
• I want to digress for a minute…

It just proves to the audience that you’re not there for them.  It’s selfish.  And used a lot, it really undermines the message that you try to give.

An audience is selfish.  But they’re supposed to be — they had a choice to come.  And we as speakers should give them what they need and want, not what we want.  It’s a simple paradigm shift that means everything to the speaker who desires to communicate effectively.

Always be audience-centric in your content and wording.

Another brilliant customer service story. My cell phone provider (who shall remain unnamed, but whose name means to run really fast) evidently called me this evening. Toll free number calling, man with thick accent identifies himself and gives the greeting and who he represents. “This call is free. You will not be charged and it won’t show up on your bill.”

So what. I buy enough minutes that I don’t worry about how long I talk on the phone, and I’m already hoping this won’t be long.

He continues, “The reason I’m calling tonite, Mr. Hoffler, is to inform you of some rate changes that will enable you to save money on your bill.”

OK, I’m starting to get suspicious — I don’t know a company on the planet that calls me to reduce what I’m already paying them.

“Mr. Hoffler, you only have one phone with Sprint. Is that correct?”

Since he has interrupted me playing a game with my son (which I would normally not stop, but the number is the one I’m answering calls about selling my plane and I’m ready to get that done), I’m a little peeved and responded, “Well, if you’re from Sprint, you already know that.“  And the kind customer service rep who was so interested in saving me money… hung up.

Now him hanging up saved me minutes of my day and returned me to playing with my kid, which is really what I wanted from the moment he identified himself and I knew there was no business that I wanted, needed, or asked for on the hook.  And in the back of my mind I’m a little curious if it was, in fact, my phone company (I’ll call the number back to find out, perhaps).  Assuming it was, I have a hard time believing the CEO of Run Fast Wireless wants his people hanging up on customers.  It’s something anyone faces when others speak with your brand, name, or reputation on the line.  Choose wisely and make sure people understand what they represent.

BTW, in my opinion said phone company has a great phone, the service is what I need and works when and where I want it, and EVERY time I’ve interacted with them I’ve been tempted to cancel the service on the grounds that I don’t enjoy dealing with imbeciles.  Just the principle of the thing — their customer service does not Run Fast.

Be clear about what people represent and how they should do it.