|CHAPTER 5|

Be Slightly Different

“His socks compelled one’s attention without losing one’s respect.”

—H. H. MUNRO,
writer

Be the Lightbulb Guy

One day, I was presenting a workshop when, suddenly, a stranger walked in, unfolded a ladder, and climbed to the ceiling. He wasn’t trying to amuse us, he needed to fix a light.

Still, we couldn’t take our eyes off him. He was like a circus act.

What made him so compelling? Variety—he broke the routine of the workshop. Sure, we’d seen people fix lights before, but not that day. Plus, he had a ladder. Never underestimate the power of a good prop.

But then, after a few minutes, he was still doing the same thing and we lost interest.

In retrospect, he should have ditched the ladder and performed his feat atop a team of acrobats or a herd of wild elephants. We’d have watched for a few more seconds.

Variety! Why does it work? Well, a zillion years ago, if you were in the jungle and you heard a rustle in the bushes—but decided to ignore it—you’d get eaten. The survivors, us, are hard-wired to attend to change.

So capture attention with variety. Otherwise, your audience will climb the wall, with or without a ladder.

But what if you don’t want to be different?

Get Comfortable with Uncomfortable

“What you’re asking us to do,” the engineers told me, “won’t work.”

I was pushing them to spice up their presentations with a few techniques, such as moving away from the podium.

“Not comfortable,” they said.

I know the feeling, so do you. It’s how you feel every time you leave your comfort zone to learn something new.

The other day, for example, I purchased a new video camera for professional use. I didn’t want to buy it. The old machine worked just fine, but the new machine, with newer technology, was better for my clients.

Still, I was resistant. “My problem,” I told the Best Buy salesperson, “is that I really love the old machine. It’s like a friend.”

“I understand,” she said, as if she too often grieved for machines. “But I think you’ll be ok.”

Have you ever learned a new skill that didn’t, at first, feel uncomfortable? Remember your first bike ride? There you were, pedaling up the learning curve, feeling unnatural until, one day, you didn’t.

Feeling unnatural is perfectly natural. And it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you—or your bike.

“We can’t ever leave the podium,” the engineers said. “Or we’ll die.”

Well, ok, what they really said was that everyone used the podium—that’s the way presentations are done—and these engineers wanted to look just like everyone else.

That’s a problem, because if you look and sound like everyone else, you lose audience attention. Instead, when you stand up, stand out. You’ve got more chance of dying, or putting your audience to sleep, behind the podium than away from it.

Still, it doesn’t feel that way.

These days, my old video camera sits at home, safely on the shelf. Sometimes I miss it. But I’m getting used to the new one, just as the engineers, I hope, are getting used to some new techniques.

That’s what learning requires. Remember: there’s nothing wrong with the bike. Keep pedaling.

Vary Your Enthusiasm

Sometimes being different means simply to vary your style. For example:

“Thanks for your reply!” an associate emailed me, with a cheerful exclamation point.

How many emails do you get, or send, that end like that? I get a lot! And I send them too! I think it’s contagious!

But I don’t end every email with an exclamation. It would be tiresome. Often, a low-key thanks, is perfectly fine. The email I got today—“Thanks for your reply!”—made it sound like my reply, or any reply at all, was downright amazing.

You can’t sustain this level of astonishment. Nor would your colleagues want you to. A little goes a long way.

Same thing when speaking. You need to project energy, but that doesn’t mean nonstop, hyper-caffeinated pep.

You project energy with physical variety—you gesture or move, then you’re still. With visual variety—you show a PowerPoint slide, then darken the screen. With vocal variety—you talk, then ask a question, or you speak fast, then slow.

Energy comes from variety.

p.s. Ever wonder where the exclamation point came from? Probably not, but just in case: The Latin word io means joy, and “the Medieval copyists used to write io at the end of a sentence . . . [over time] the i moved above the o, and the o became smaller, becoming a point.”

Thanks Wikipedia!

Speed Up/Slow Down

If you exercise, you probably know something about interval training. You get a better workout, fitness experts say, if you vary your pace.

For example, run, then walk, then sprint. Then keel over.

But when I do intervals, usually on the treadmill in our basement, it’s for a different reason: to break monotony. Moving at a constant pace gets extremely boring. But if you change it up every few minutes, suddenly it’s just moderately boring.

Let’s apply this speed up/slow down principle to your communications.

1.Writing: Long sentences are good, but they slow things down, even if you use a dash or two—who doesn’t love dashes? I certainly do—because, let’s face it, a long sentence feels more like a marathon than a dash.

Use short sentences too.

It’s the rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, that works.

2.Speaking: Do you naturally speak fast or slow?

You’re probably fast if, in your opinion, others speak so slowly that you need to frequently interrupt them and complete their sentences. You’re probably slow if you’re the one being interrupted.

If you’re naturally fast, pausing is your best friend.

But pausing is a powerful tool for anyone. Pause for a second or two at the beginning of a presentation, before saying a word. That’ll get attention. And pause, occasionally, before a key word or a key point.

If your rhythm is slower, speed up. One good place: when telling your audience about the agenda. Let’s suppose your agenda is about nutrition.

“First,” you say, “we’ll discuss breakfast.” (Now speed up.) “Is it really the most important meal of the day? Who says? And which is better: eggs, a granola bar, or Greek yogurt? Or should you just put them all in a smoothie, throw in a little kale, and be done with it? (Pause.) Then, we’ll briefly discuss snacks . . .”

You can go fast while outlining your agenda—most people in your audience won’t remember it anyway—since the real point of an agenda is to preview the themes and assure everyone you’ve got a plan.

So whether you’re on a treadmill, delivering a presentation, writing a report, or doing all these things at once, vary your pace.

Use Three Different Ways to Persuade: Head, Heart, Hands

There were 10 men in the room. All of us were stunned.

It was the last night of childbirth class. Up until then, we’d discussed childbirth rather extensively. Still, we had no idea, really, what to expect.

Childbirth, for the men, was an intriguing, faraway concept, sort of like New Zealand.

Then, last class, we watched a video. It showed a woman giving birth.

I wouldn’t have minded some editing, here and there. But this video was determined to show everything, even if it took several days.

“That was unbelievable,” one man said during the break.

“I’m not feeling well,” said another.

No one, of course, had learned any new information. But something had changed.

You can know something in different ways. You can know, theoretically, that you’re going to die. But that’s different than knowing your death is imminent.

How then do you persuade others?

Sometimes, we assume that all it takes is the right information, or the right argument, to make a compelling case.

Wrong.

People are multi-dimensional. Imagine three centers of intelligence: head, heart, hands. Each requires something different.

1.Head: What do you want your audience to think? To influence thinking, provide facts and data. Use logic. Ask thought-provoking questions.

2.Heart: What do you want others to feel? To influence feeling, tell compelling stories. Ask others to imagine a vivid scene. Disclose how you feel.

3.Hands: What do you want others to do? To influence doing, model the desired behavior, or show what not to do. Encourage practice. Call for action.

I remember working with a jet engine company. If you make jet engines and you hear about a plane crash, the first thing you wonder is, Was that one of our engines?

One day the answer was yes. Fortunately, everyone on board survived, but the company seized the event as a teachable moment.

They invited the pilot into the plant. He showed pictures of his wife and children, he described how he felt as the plane was going down.

Everyone at the plant had always known about quality. But that pilot, that day, changed their commitment to quality.

The next time you communicate, consider head, heart, hands. When your message is important, speak to all three.