As we have just discovered, there are four basic different audience member types. Some want to listen. Some want to talk. Some just want to take control. These individuals make up the entirety of an audience. Chances are if you have more than seven people in a room you are going to have at least one of each personality type and will have to deal with them individually and as a group. Now that you are aware of this, you will often feel like the conductor of an orchestra—keeping everyone on time and in harmony. It may feel like a lot of responsibility, but remember, you are there to guide the audience to an end goal. It was about them, not you.
While there are different kinds of people there are also different audiences for different situations. There are audiences to be presented to and audiences to be pitched to. The pitch audience is a very unique group of individuals, because not only do you have to educate, inspire, and engage them—but you need to persuade them as well. Earlier I talked about how your intention as a presenter is to persuade the audience. And this is true for every presentation. You need to get them on your side and get them to believe what you believe—to go on a journey with you. While this is true for any pitch meeting, it goes from being an intention to becoming your number one goal. In a pitch meeting you need to persuade your audience to literally buy into what you are saying.
Two weeks after a presentation, be it a TED talk or a client meeting, the audience will more than likely forget mostly what you presented. What they will remember is how you made them feel and not be able to recall specifics. However, two weeks after a pitch meeting, the audience is most likely talking about you, your company, your product, or all in great detail. This is because they are about to make a major decision—to hire you and spend money on you. This can put a lot of pressure on you as a presenter because your livelihood may depend on your success as a presenter.
Create Tension
A great writer will use tension to urge the reader to continue on with the story. Whether it is inner conflict with the main character or with supporting characters, creating a challenge is what makes the story tense. It is uncomfortable and the reader is hoping the tension will be resolved. Without a challenge, a story is boring—and we do not pay attention to boring things.1 Remember the audience is the hero of the story, and to become a hero, the character must face and overcome a challenge that changes the character in a profound way. It is the challenge that creates the tension that moves the hero toward change. And that is precisely what we want from our presentation—to take our audiences (our heroes) on a journey that changes their behavior and enables them to take action.
Creating tension at the beginning of a presentation does two things. First, it makes the audience uncomfortable and literally on the edge of their seats to see what comes next. Second, it puts you completely in charge because the audience is invested and wanting resolution.
I have pitched products and services to thousands of clients over the course of 30 years. Nine out of ten times, the one thing the client cares about most is the budget. They just want to know, “how much is this going to cost me?” And for many years, I followed the same storyline. Talk about myself (my company, my services, etc.), then talk about the client, and then tell them the cost. I had created a simple path to get the audience to what they wanted. What I realized, after so many years, was that I was completely disrespecting the audience. I was doing what I wanted and not giving them what they needed. I had my own agenda. I made the presentation about me. I thought I was Luke Skywalker. And while I was very successful, I was not treating the audience like the heroes they were. I realized that while there was tension in the room, it was the wrong kind. My audiences were tense because they were bored and waiting for the punch line.
Let Me Tell You a Story
Five years ago, there was one meeting that forced me to change my tactics forever. I was half way through my pitch when a driver stood up and said, “For goodness sakes, we read your proposal and looked at your website. We know everything there is to know about you and your company.” I felt like a deer in the headlights. I was frozen. The driver then said something that profoundly changed the way I looked at pitch meetings: “You’re in the room because we know you can do the job. Just tell me why we should hire you and let’s move on.” I got through the meeting and on the drive home I replayed that one simple sentence over and over. “You’re in the room because we know you can do the job.” And then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Most of us do not like meetings. They get in the way of getting real work done. So, if a client is going to take the time to assemble a team for a vendor to come in and pitch, then chances are the client already believes the vendor can do the job. The meeting is not the time to sell your capabilities. The client already knows them. The meeting is your time to show why you are the right vendor for the job. This is the exact moment I realized that a presentation is not a meeting; it is a performance. The pitch meeting is not about whom you have worked with in the past; they already know this. The pitch meeting is not about your budget—you already sent that in the proposal. The pitch meeting is a chemistry test. The client wants to meet you and see if they like you and want to spend time and money with you. It’s your time to shine, to tell a story, to get the client to like you and hire you.
Back to creating tension. Introducing tension creates a mystery. It sets up a puzzle to be unraveled. It puts the audience on edge and puts you in complete control of the mood and emotions in the room.
Benjamin Zander, the conductor for the Boston Philharmonic, in his TED talk, The Transformative Power of Classical Music, calls this “going home.”2 He uses a prelude by Chopin to make his point. Chopin moves from the B note all the way to the E, but does it slowly. He gets close to it, but moves back up the scale, just before the piece is resolved. And once he gets to the E, he plays the wrong E chords—some are suspended, some are minor, some have odd notes. Then finally he plays the right E chord and the piece is complete and the audience breathes a sigh of relief. If he had played the right E chord too early, the piece would have been over and the listener would have never taken the uncomfortable journey to home. As Zander says, “Follow the line all the way from B to E, and you’ll hear everything that Chopin had to say.”3 This is what I want you to do with your pitches. Take the client on the path from B to E. But do not resolve too quickly. Create some tension. Force the client to pay attention. And then, take them home. They will feel resolved and appreciate you closing the loop. It’s a wonderful feeling to end a meeting when everyone is satisfied and has closure.
Up until this point in the book, I have talked about how to use your unique style to engage audiences of all types in two different situations: the presentation and the pitch. For the remainder of the book, I will discuss the tools you will need to present. Now is the time to talk about how you will present to an audience of any type and size.