4.7. I WANT TO JOIN THE PANTHEON. WHERE DO I SIGN?
Discuss the legends in any field for long enough, and a sinking feeling can settle in. So often the advice seems to be along the lines of, "Go forth, and be awesome—more awesome, in fact, than you have ever been." Clearly, such advice treats success as if it were a red pill and failure a blue pill. Beyond a few comedians whose slacker personas actually serve them better than ambition, I think we'd all be downing the reds, given the choice.
A survey of the greats—Jobs, Gladwell, Lessig, and so on—might make the art of the presentation seem unattainable. None of the greats are genetically predisposed to captivate audiences, though. The best in every field do all the right things so naturally that we forget how much practice it took for them to get there. Roger Federer was training three times a day as early as age six; Tiger Woods, it seems, was handed a putter shortly after the umbilical cord was cut. Superiority is laid one brick at a time, day by day.
We can either be daunted by these geniuses' commitment, or we can be greatly encouraged by realizing that being the best depends almost entirely on the things that we do all day. It's a result of the actions and behaviors over which we have direct, moment-to-moment control. Joining the pantheon of presentation gods will entail both your time and commitment. Like any sport, it will require coaching, both for directing your efforts and for constant feedback. In the following chapters I'll detail a specific plan for enhancing every area of your presentation: content, design, and delivery. But my schedule simply won't permit me to travel to your home, sit on your couch, and watch you practice—even if you do keep your refrigerator well stocked with Blue Moon beer. Ultimately, you are going to need a partner—a coworker, spouse, or friend—who can give you honest feedback while you train. I can't tell you how many times my wife has pointed out a nervous tic of mine that I had no idea I was doing. A second pair of eyes will keep you from reinforcing bad habits along the way.
Three is a magic number. Bridges are built with triangle trusses; stools with three legs are strongest. My mother gave me three seconds to listen and obey. How did she know two seconds wasn't long enough and that four was far too long? It seems we have a natural, almost innate understanding of the power of threes. The same power applies to presentations. To join the pantheon, you'll need to master three key areas.
4.7.1. Content
If we're really going to boil it down, this is the whole enchilada. Without content, your presentation is either an art show or a mime performance; the former won't advance your cause, the latter is so unpopular it's relegated to city parks and sidewalks.
You must nail down your content before doing anything else. Always establish your expertise early on, as part of the flow of your presentation, or you'll be astonished at how quickly people disregard every word you say. A plumber and a heart surgeon can give the exact same speech about modern advancements in bathroom plumbing, and even though both individuals deal in pipes, the audience will only care about what the plumber has to say. When the speech is about bypass surgery, guess whom we want to hear from? Facts, figures, and information only matter if the person stating them has the perceived authority to do so.
In almost every circumstance, if you've been asked to speak, you're probably an expert. Your familiarity with the subject matter is both your greatest asset and your greatest weakness. Your audience is an audience because they don't know as much as you do about a particular topic; otherwise, they wouldn't show up or would be giving the presentation themselves. Identifying with the audience and understanding the extent of their knowledge is vital to making your content novel, interesting, and accessible. Going over (or under) their heads is, essentially, wasting their time. Finding the sweet spot is the key to delivering top-notch content.
4.7.2. Design
To the innovative computer scientist, a projector screen of binary code looks like See Spot Run. To an audience, it looks like a perverse game of Brain Twister in which the brain's lobes get so knotted that they collapse. In this Twister horror, there is no laughter at the end and no newly formed crushes among childhood friends. There is only pain and agony.
Design makes you make sense. If we just wanted the facts, we'd buy a few textbooks in the field and start reading. We've called you in to distill your knowledge to us simply and concisely—and nothing is more concise than imagery. A picture can be worth a thousand words, but not if that picture is a garbled nest of charts designed in Microsoft Paint. Therefore, I have to clarify: Good design makes you make sense. Bad design does more for the dismemberment of your reputation than forgetting to wear pants on the big day.
Presenters either fear design or don't respect it. Our culture tends to keep art and business separate—a trend that, combined with the level of technical proficiency necessary to achieve good design, can lead a lot of public speakers to rely on comfortable but unstylish bullet points and clip art. This approach is roughly as sexy as a snoring octogenarian in a recliner with his or her teeth percolating in seltzer water nearby. You may revere the speaker's wisdom, but you're still averting your eyes.
4.7.3. Delivery
Perhaps the greatest example of good delivery is found during our first introduction to the Wizard of Oz (the character, not the movie). He is terribly frightening, an imposing figure that easily convinces Dorothy and her cohort to do exactly as he wishes—to go away.
The worst example is also the Wizard of Oz, during his second appearance. He is careless, revealed, and then controlled by his audience. Our onstage performance—facial expressions, tone, nonverbal cues—can either serve as the finishing touch on our master plan or our inescapable demise. Delivery is a double-edged sword for many people; it requires a fervent and committed effort to perfect while becoming natural and easy with practice. Putting in the hours early on will pay great dividends for any speaker looking to join the pantheon.