The Olympian in all of us

My last blog generated much good discussion on- and off-line. So I thought I would pick up where I left off. In that post I focused on the people blaming their lack of "natural gifts" for not trying to cultivate a skill, or improve on what they already possess. As I continued to watch world-class athletes finishing up their competition at the XXII Winter Olympic Games, I kept asking myself: who is really a "natural" at skeleton racing? snowboard cross? And ice dancing? I started skating as a kid, and I remember the first lessons I learned had to do with just staying upright. It was a while before I learned to skate backwards, and I never learned to twizzle! I am sure Meryl Davis and Charlie White fell a lot as kids. But they got back up. Only to fall again. They have probably fallen hundreds of times over the years. But eventually, their technique became so strong that ice-dancing seems the most natural way for them to move. They immersed themselves in their discipline, and they mastered it.

So what about those who reach a level of mastery sufficient to their needs, and then stop? Unlike Team USA members who assured us they just keep trying to improve each time they compete, these folks are happy where they are and that's that. I am not thinking of the U.S. Speedskating team (I am sure they were working hard to stay on top), but of people who perform in a very different arena: public speaking.

You know the ones I mean--those who have reached their own goal of feeling comfortable standing and speaking in front of people, but have stopped there. Now that they are no longer anxious, they try to maintain control by not changing anything. They become set in their ways. Predictable. And not open to hearing suggestions that might lead to improvement. Something worked for them once, and without anaylzing why, they repeat whatever it was each time they speak. Often it involves retelling some lame joke, or striking an "I'm-the-important-expert" pose. Or something else they use as a gimmick so they can face the crowd and still stay in their comfort zone. None of these tactics are designed with the listener in mind. It's all about what the speaker needs. And that's just wrong.

Your job as a speakers is never to just deliver content. If it were, you could send a memo. You need to speak to the audience, not talk at it. Invest in making a connection. Audiences can tell if you are unable/unwilling/unprepared to do this. Sometimes they give you the benefit of the doubt, but don't count on it. That "relaxation" you feel when you think your "formula" has served you well? It may just be boredom from the audience creeping toward you.

Like the Olympic athletes, anyone who wants to truly master a discipline needs to keep moving forward. Keep learning. Keep growing. And be thankful the "stumbles" you have on the way won't send you careening down a half-pipe or slamming into an ice rink wall.

Save the comedy for the club

I know... it has only been two months since I last blogged about the misguided notion that you should start your speech with a joke (see Giving Thanks for Sarah Silverman, and, before that, Safety Training Required) but when I tell people I am a public speaking coach, they often feel compelled to share with me their ideas of best practices. And inevitably, the joke thing comes up. So once again, with feeling, I say: please disregard past instructions from amateur speakers and their clubs, books you have read by random speechwriters, or lessons learned in Public Speaking 101. DO NOT START YOUR SPEECH WITH A JOKE. I am not joking!

Why do you want to waste the first incredibly valuable seconds of a speech engaging in an activity for which you have not had previous training, sending your listeners off on a mental tangent--inviting comparisons with professional comedians who really can tell a joke, or worse  jeopardizing your credibility? You should be "hooking" the audience with your content, not using them as comedy club guinea pigs. It is not that I lack an appreciation of humor. But I know that humor is hard and its use has to be earned. Or as we say in acting world, "Dying is easy, comedy is hard" (deathbed quote variously attributed to actors Edmund Kean and Edmund Gwynne.)

And it's not just jokes. This weekend someone told me the best advice he got in a college course on public speaking was to open with a humorous icebreaker. When I shared this with a colleague, he suggested that there must be a book of such quips floating around, because he has heard a few of them on multiple occasions--from different people. I have had this experience: shifting uncomfortably in the audience upon hearing the same mildly humorous line spoken for the fourth time in as many speeches by a respected, notable speaker. Why does she diminish her brand with this attempt at "funny"? A comedian can have a comic "catch phrase," but is it really appropriate for anyone with a more serious job?

The reason always given (and I just heard it again this weekend) is that starting with a humorous line "relaxes the speaker and relaxes the audience." But watching an audience suppress the eyeroll and groan that accompany the thought "here we go again--another content expert who wants to unleash his inner comedian on us" does not a relaxed speaker make. So you reflexively turn a blind eye to the audience reaction in the opening moments, when you should be making a strong initial connection! And trust me, there are ways to achieve relaxation at the podium that are more effective than trying to regain momentum after you "bomb" with your first quip. Because unless you know your audience extremely well, know their cultural background, know their sense of humor, and have practiced your jokes and your humorous stories for timing and rhythm, you will bomb with someone there. Why take the risk?

It all boils down to ego. Because in a business setting, unlike a comedy club, no one will boo you if your joke falls flat. And if your core message is in demand, you will be asked to speak in spite of your propensity to be NOT funny. But do you really want to be that guy -- the one about whom people say, "It's funny: for such a smart guy, you would think he would know he can't tell a joke"?

State of the laundry list

The President's annual State of the Union Address always provides a good overview of the agenda his administration will pursue in the coming year. Sometimes it even inspires! But last night's edition followed the pattern of too many SOTU's in recent memory--it was fairly dull. Here's how I know: I am trained to pay close attention to speeches of all kinds, yet I could barely overcome the distractions that beckoned.  After years of asking myself why I feel so strangely dissatisfied after SOTUs--whatever the party of the President--I engaged in an experiment last night. I actually tracked the speech to see if concentrating on that level made it easier to follow. It did not. Even with pen in hand, I lost the thread of the speech, only to pick it up seconds later, when I found we were on an altogether different topic.

I conclude that the State of the Union really isn't meant to be a very good speech, as speeches go. It is a comprehensive list, a giant memo outlining the administration's plans for the next months. I guess it fits this definition of address: "a formal communication". And since everyone in the room (and many of those who tuned in) would be reading and parsing the speech after the fact, maybe the President's speechwriters don't feel the need to "write for the ear." But to anyone at home who was not playing a version of SOTU bingo (I particularly like the League of Women Voters' version, pictured here) or listening for specific sound bites to support her/his cause, it was a dud.

Delivery was good, yes--the President looked relaxed yet enrgized, really focussed and relatively impassioned. And he displayed the great comic sense we relish whenever we see it.

But the content violated so many tried-and-true practices of speechwriting. His "introduction" (if that is what it was) contained one list of six points, followed by one of five, and I was getting lost already. There were far too many topics; Tamara Keith of NPR tweeted that he would cover 12! If they had been clumped into three major topics, say Equality/Inequality (income, civil and human rights), Economic Growth (foreign and domestic, big biz and small), Foreign Relations (Iraq, Afghanistan, war on terrorism, use of diplomacy) we could have tracked the subpoints more clearly. I got lost halfway through "Citizenship," which seemed to include "diplomacy" (with an appropriate shout-out to diplomats and the military). But that segued to the fight against terrorism, on to international relations and back to diplomacy. I saw how these could flow logically if you were reading a paper, but for the casual listener at home who was trying to follow the essence of the speech, it was hard. The address was definitely not user-friendly, unless you were using a scorecard or tweeting out favorite "lines."

There is a reason most speeches adhere to standard organizing principles, and good speeches rely on the "tell you what you're going to tell them, tell them, then tell them you told them" pattern in one variation or another. Even speeches based on a story-telling model have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

I think that is why most listeners are just half-attending the speech, waiting to prick up their ears when the President speaks about their issues. And maybe that is really the point of it--to cover key issues that matter to the constituents and policy-makers. So, yes, on that score it was a win. President Obama covered a lot. And I even heard some points that pleased me.

But let's not fool ourselves that this was a good speech. A good list, yes. With some great personal stories thrown in to liven it up. But beware--no one should use this as a model for their speech-making. Ever. If you want to capture the audience's attention and keep it, look to a speech that has some shape, some vision, some over-arching theme. For an address that really is a speech - look at just about anything else this President has given us.

Words will never hurt me...?

Remember the schoolyard taunt "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me?"  When I was a kid that little saying was taken to be absolute truth, and anyone who complained about being called a name was labelled a crybaby-- which, if you were sensitive to language, and considered name-calling a form of bullying--made matters even worse!

Somewhere during the decades between my childhood and that of my children, "conventional wisdom" on abusive use of words seismically shifted. Thank goodness! I taught my kids that words matter and that hard, mean words could hurt as much as fists. As a word person, I have always felt the inherent power of words. I am glad much of the rest of the world now accepts this truth as well!

This week, schools across the country celebrated No Name-Calling Week. Created by the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network (GLSEN)  in 2004, this program encourages "schools to dedicate a week of the year to improving school climate," and "has grown into one of the largest bullying-prevention initiatives in the country." No-Name Calling Week offers activities for all grade levels, so that pernicious bullying may be stopped before it even starts. And GLSEN is not alone in tackling the problem of bullying: my son's high school has their own award-winning program, Project Upstanders.

It is through such efforts that we now see what name-calling always has been: a way to diminish and discriminate against those we perceive as "other." The world is getting smaller by the day. We have contact with people of widely different backgrounds and preferences all the time now. We need to treat those we interact with respectfully, and use language that reflects a non-judgmental awareness of others' differences.

Those used to wielding language as a cudgel need to get with the program. "Verbal bullies" must see that their words can provoke as much as actions do. Incoming (and former) New York City Police Commissioner Bill Bratton knows this. Maureen Dowd quotes the Commissioner in a recent column for the New York Times, saying "We have an expression in policing that it’s not the use of force that gets cops in trouble, it’s the use of language... an officer who says, 'Sir, can I speak to you?,' rather than 'Hey, you, get over here,' will be more productive."

Well said, sir, well said. Now let's all go out and "use our words" as well as NYC's finest!

Listen down

Happy New Year! Readers of this blog will, I hope, forgive the fact that I did not post much over the Christmas/winter holiday season. I was taking time off from virtual communication to engage in real time communicating with friends and family. And doing lots of cookie-baking.

I was also working with clients, and managing to keep up with The News. Last week, while trying to solve some communications problems specific to clients in leadership roles, I looked to Adam Bryant's Corner Office  interviews in the New York Times. If you're not familiar with this column, look it up. Bryant shares insights from a variety of savvy leaders in business and management. One column in particular jumped out at me, Penny Pritzker's interview, titled "On Hearing the Whole Story." It dealt with the power, and importance, of listening. Pritzker, a highly successful business leader in the real estate, hospitality, and financial services industries, is currently serving as Secretary of Commerce. She answered Bryant's question about improving her leadership over the years this way: 

"Probably the biggest mistakes I’ve made were when I wasn’t listening carefully enough. Sometimes you need help with that. I have often said to my closest advisers that your job isn’t just to tell me what you think, but you also have to get in my face and make sure I heard you. It’s hard to deliver bad news, and part of leadership is giving people permission to give you bad news, and making sure you really hear it."

The thing that struck me was how much humility is packed in that statement. And the acknowledgement that true leadership means a willingness to deal with uncertain, or even negative, feedback. A reminder that when you are a leader it is not about you, but about the shared goal of the stakeholders in your venture. If your staff or team is reluctant to give you bad news, then how can you really find our what is going on? Their job in not to please you, but to give you the information you need. 

As Shanti Atkins, President and CSO of Navex Global, said in Bryant's January 2nd column: "Even now I like to have people around me who will disagree with me and who will tell me when they think I’m wrong or something is a terrible idea. If I get the feeling I have people around me who are managing up, I get very nervous. I just instantly start wondering, 'What’s actually happening and why can’t you give me more of a balanced picture?' ” 

We all need to be ready to really hear what employees, co-workers, even family members, have to say--especially when it is something we may not want to hear!  Let's resolve to be better--and more open--listeners this year. Mindfully practicing our listening skills will improve every facet of our lives, not just the bottom line.

Magical memory

photo by Lee Jordan

I read a wonderful piece in yesterday's New York Times that explains how "magical thinking" and belief in such fictitious characters as Santa Claus is part of normal brain development. When we are very young we start out with billions of brain cells whose connections are "relatively sparse," according to the author, neuroscientist Kelly Lambert. So our childish grasp of what is real and what is not develops over time. Dr. Lambert begins her opinion piece by recounting a time when she had to undo the damage of some early Christmas snooping. Her daughters, who still believed in the magic of Santa, wanted to know why presents from him were in their attic well before Christmas Eve. Dr. Lambert asserts that she acted instinctively, as a mother. Yet, as a scientist, she was relieved to realize later that protecting these beliefs was really OK. Because the richer and deeper our memories are, the more likely we will be able to conjure them up as visceral experiences later in life. We will be more likely to relive positive past memories if they are multilayered.  Lambert says this is because they are a special type of memory, what Washington University Professor Pascal Boyer calls mental time travel memories, or M.T.T.  "Professor Boyer describes how neuroimaging evidence indicates that, when certain events are recalled--presumably after being triggered by familiar sights or sounds--emotional brain areas are activated as well as visceral responses. You relive the feelings you experienced in the past. These recollections can be thought of as full body and brain memories."

Actors know the importance of using sense memory to trigger emotional memory, though they have probably never heard of M.T.T.  We have been utilizing this type of memory in our profession since the cusp of the 20th century. It is the only way to create an honest emotional life for a character who is not us. We do not know exactly how this character would react to the given circumstances of the world of the play. Since we only have what the playwright gives us, the big-picture outline, we have to fill in the blanks and populate every second we are onstage with a living, breathing reality grounded in past experiences. BUT we cannot substitute our own past. I have seen my acting students get really tripped up; they say, "Well, I wouldn't have acted this way" when examining a character's divergent reality. But you can't get inside the character if you are judging. So I tell them they must use their imaginations, put themselves in the character's shoes. And use their own sense memories and emotional memories to build a new reality. When my beginning acting students ask how this is done, I sometimes answer, "all theatre is magic." Now maybe I should give the scientific explanation. As Prof. Boyer would say, we use our brains' M.T.T. capacity to catapult ourselves, however briefly, into a completely different world. 

Dr. Lambert concludes her article by observing that even when they become adults, "the sight of Santa will allow my daughters, once again, to see the world as a child would, if only for a few fleeting moments." Actors get to use their storehouse of memories from childhood to the recent past over and over and over. Is it any wonder we take joy in our work? 

When he spoke the world listened

Nelson Mandela. We all mourn his passing. He was a great man, and, like President Obama, I "pause and give thanks for the fact that Nelson Mandela lived, a man who took history in his hands and bent the arc of the moral universe towards justice."

What has struck me about the broadcast coverage of his life and legacy is how many audio clips I am hearing of the man himself speaking. There is a very good reason for this: he spoke about his vision more eloquently and dynamically than anyone else could. Most of the news stories I have heard or seen in the past day have included tape of him speaking, because the power he communicated is easier to experience than describe. NPR put together an amazing special: Nelson Mandela: an Audio History, which excerpts many recordings of Mandela. It is amazing to listen to. The print media has also devoted many column inches to the fact that Mandela's considerable speaking skill was often his strongest weapon.

All leaders strive to express their vision with such authentic voices. Most of them fail. To be a leader requires a bold vision, and an ability to be clear-eyed about how you embody that vision and how you will implement it. And a strategy for communicating that vision to your followers. It all takes time--and a lot of thoughtful effort. Sometimes people on the "leadership track" are looking for quick results. So they like shortcuts, like modelling themselves on leaders they admire. I can foresee that soon I will have new clients asking me to teach them to "speak like Mandela." Yes, that really happens... Ask any speaking coach, we have all had that experience. The desire to "sound like Obama" has waned a bit, but we still get it. I am sure--now that she has finally developed her own reliably powerful voice--I will soon hear "I want to speak like Hillary."

But to be an authentic leader you need to find your own voice. Then you should ask a professional to help you refine it. And you need to really do your preparation. There is no shortcut for that. Even leaders with speechwriters collaborate on the writing process and then practice the heck out of the text to internalize it. Again, Mandela offers an instructive example: his four-hour speech at the 1964 Rivonia Trial set him on the world stage. He spent a great deal of time crafting that speech, then asked for expert help. As the Washington Post reports: "For weeks he worked on his public statement, which was polished and edited by novelist Nadine Gordimer and British journalist Anthony Sampson at Mandela’s direction." That article also asserts that "He read from a script, slowly and deliberately in a flat voice — the drama was all in the content and the circumstances."  I have heard recorded excerpts, and I would not say his voice was flat at all. He words were a stinging indictment of the government, but his delivery was simplicity at its best. He trusted that his dramatic text would be best served by such openness and honesty. 

We should be thankful that this most authentic leadership voice, though silenced, lives on in recordings for all to hear and cherish.