INTRODUCTION SO WHO SAID YOU’RE A “BAD” PRESENTER?

Respected Rules for Speaking and Why You Should Break Them—Mercilessly

Let me guess: You’re a terrible presenter, right? You hate giving presentations. Some teacher or boss told you that you just don’t have it when it comes to presenting. I bet that was a fun day. You’d love never to stand up in front of a crowd again, but you’re stuck. You’re required to present, maybe because of your job or your position in the community. And every time another presentation comes up, all you can think is “Ugh.”

Or maybe you’re a pretty decent presenter. You like taking on a challenge, but you sometimes get hung up on all the things you’re supposed to do. You feel excited to stand up but still worry that you’re not following all the rules.

I bet something else is true, too. You really do have something important to say. You’ve got a few opinions and probably a message you’d love to share with people — if only you could stop shaking and sweating.

So you took all the feedback to heart. You tried to change. First you tried to mimic famous orators or entertainers — and that made you feel like you were wearing someone else’s clothes and they didn’t fit. Then you took classes, learned the “rules of speaking,” and accepted abuse from counselors who just made you feel more awkward and worried. You just can’t seem to get what you want, and you hate the fake, sales-y approach — which, of course, makes you hate presenting even more.

Excellent!

You have more potential to give great presentations than any polished phony on the planet. Because guess what? You’re not innately a terrible presenter. Someone else’s rules are making you “bad” — rules from Presentations 101 — the rules that box you in, regulate everything you do, and define “good” presentations. Rules like “Always stand to the left of the screen,” “Never cross the beam of the projector,” and “Remain detached during the presentation.”

Those rules are plain stupid! They hamstring you and keep you away from the real stuff — the mystical secret sauce of great presentations: your authentic self.

I once worked with an executive at an insurance company who was a really rotten presenter. He stood stiffly back by the screen and froze every time he stumbled on a word. And he was actually presenting something he really loved — his team’s record-beating success! Take this guy off the stage, however, and one-onone he was a gregarious, funny man. He’d been verbally whipped by so many coaches to follow the rules of presenting that his confidence was blown. He felt trapped in the space up by the screen and miles away from the audience.

I suggested he just be himself — to literally do whatever the heck made him comfortable. So he stood right at the front of the stage where he could see his audience’s faces. Sometimes he stepped off the stage. In some parts of the presentation he even gave himself permission to sit down right in the audience! He was miked, so everyone could hear him, and the audience loved how he became one of them rather than a distant expert on stage.

Leaving the stage, stumbling over words, and sitting down would all be considered classic “mistakes.” Who cares? What really mattered was that the audience connected with the success of this executive — his team beat all the records. And he suddenly felt connected again to his message, his excitement, and his audience. His voice and body loosened up, he stopped stumbling on words, and his stories became funny again. All this happened because he’d found a way to really be himself in his presentations, and that’s what worked.

And here’s the thing: if presentations really didn’t matter, we’d all just send memos. There are a million ways out there to share information, but no matter how much we digitize, we end up wanting human connection. We pay big money to see recording stars and great thinkers in person because their music and words touch us. And yes, it’s really important for people to hear you speak, too. Suppose you’re spearheading the effort to build a community park. You can have phone conversations, write letters to the editor, and start a community blog until you’re blue in the face. But when the advocates for a new park decide to get together, they want to hear your story. They want to connect with you, not a proxy of you.

I’m here to give you the ultimate out — the ultimate freedom. Be human, be you, make mistakes! Don’t worry about all the rules you’ve been taught. People would rather see you, warts and all, if you can communicate with passion. And that’s when all the things you want will follow — jobs, funding, support, partners, believers.

So do it! Your way.

It’s time for a longitudinal change in how we approach presentations. It’s time to turn what we consider “bad” on its head and reconsider what matters. The reason most people believe they’re bad presenters is that they’re bound by archaic rules that make them stiff and uncomfortable. This book is about giving yourself permission to be who you are and to present in a way that is authentically yours — mistakes and all. Everyone has something important to say. We all want to change people’s minds about issues that really matter to us.

And if being the real you is “bad” according to nasty old rules, then let’s change the definition. Just like Michael Jackson, you are now bad in the coolest way. Come on, people, say it with me — “I’m BAD.”

We’re all ready to break these rules. As a society, we have evolved, even if our presentation primers haven’t. We prefer scratchy authenticity to plastic perfection. We are much more likely to trust an online vlogger than a slick scripted commercial. The vlogger’s very mistakes, imperfections, and scruffy jeans make her more believable and appealing. And what’s more, when she speaks enthusiastically about her opinions, we’re drawn in like suntanned kids to a Slip ’n Slide. Now imagine a report given by an impeccably dressed executive who spouts corporate acronyms without cracking a smile. It’s like comparing Velveeta to local artisanal cheese. We don’t want scary processed-block perfection. We want the real deal — lumps, imperfections, and all.

And there’s another reason the authentic stuff is yummier. Artisanal cheese is made by masters who’ve been at it for decades, whereas Velveeta comes from a factory. We respect mastery — produced by an authentic expert. We realize that they know their stuff and are willing to listen even if they aren’t polished. You can be a master, too. You know about something that people would love to hear about. And you can also master being an effective presenter in a way that feels right to you.

Still skeptical? You have every right to be. “If everyone thinks I’m a ‘bad’ presenter, how do I get to the cool kind of bad?”

I understand. So consider this. I’m fortunate to have worked with more than one thousand people in discovering the best way to be themselves in presentations. Whether they are professional speakers in front of a huge audience, a manager giving a quarterly report via teleconference, or a mom talking to the PTA committee, they can all find power and passion in being authentic. And that often means breaking all the old rules.

You see, I’m an improviser. I’ve been on the stage since I was five, and improv comedy is the core of my business and philosophy. Improvisation is about freedom, positivity, leapfrogging boundaries, and thinking on your feet. It’s about questioning all the rules, throwing out the script, and making it up as you go along. And that core philosophy has allowed me to make a career and life of throwing away all the outdated rules of training and presenting. Shy, skeptical, and gruff people have gone through my company’s courses and walked out transformed. Scientists, accountants, attorneys, engineers, editors, introverts, and extroverts have all figured out that they get to be who they are — and who they are is good.

A leader once told me: “I thought you were going to polish my team, but what I got was even better. They’re authentic. I don’t care anymore that they’re not perfect, but I suddenly care about what they’re saying.” I don’t want you to be a plastic version of me or anyone else. I do want you to throw out all the rules, get rid of your fear of mistakes, be excited, and dig into your personal power.

I’m going to be drawing on the powerful tools of improvisation and theater to help you break rules. So let’s look at how to begin the transformation, how to give yourself permission, and how to stop freezing. Let’s look at passion.

BE PASSIONATELY BAD

Passion — what you care about most — is the core of authenticity. It’s the real deal, and you have it. Somewhere under all those nasty restrictions and buttoned-up rules, there’s a rock star inside you.

It doesn’t matter whether you love your business, your kids, your boat, or your basketball team. And passion isn’t always about loving something. Many folks are passionate about changing something. They work tirelessly to raise money and awareness about disease. They give up their own comfort to provide aid to victims of disaster or poverty. They face their own demons and addictions to show others it’s possible to live a better life.

Passion comes in many forms, but there is a common thread. It lights and drives us. It’s a special part of our psyche, values, and beliefs. We can talk about our passion for hours, and it’s always interesting to us.

And the best part is that in a presentation, passion overrides technique. Audiences would much rather watch someone who is passionate about his or her topic, who isn’t polished and perfect on stage, than someone who is slick and soulless. And here’s wonderful news: audiences want you to do well! They are not out to get you — they really want you to be fabulously bad, and love seeing your passionate, quirky self. (More on this when we break Rule #3.)

Passion uses emotion to engage attention. It actually draws in your audience. In her essay, “How to Fascinate,” Sally Hogshead explains:

Think back to a time…when you were leading a presentation and your audience was completely focused on you…. They were lowering the barriers of cynicism and inertia. They stopped merely listening to you, and started connecting with you. This moment — of intense emotional focus — is when you have an opportunity to persuade.

You want to know where presentation power comes from? Passion. In our trainings, my company has participants give an extemporaneous presentation on something they feel passionate about. You would not believe what I’ve seen. I have been utterly flabbergasted more times than I can count. People who have been boring or stiff will transform completely. I don’t even recognize them. It’s as though a new person walked into the room — someone I haven’t met until now — and I’m blown away by their confidence, clarity, and energy.

I’ll never forget one man. I’ll call him Sam. He was a new safety manager for an energy provider that distributes electricity, natural gas, and water in the United States. Sam had just been promoted from the field. He’d suddenly gone from digging ditches for power lines to having to provide critical safety presentations to the people who used to dig with him. In his first formal presentation, he couldn’t even finish a sentence. He was so nervous and miserable, he tried to bail out three times. We encouraged him, and by clutching a safety booklet and reading it verbatim, he was able to whisper his way through. He kept saying, “I can’t do this. I’m terrible. I can’t do this.”

When we got to the passion exercise, my expectations were low. I expected Sam to speak a few sentences and get off the stage. I could not have been more wrong. He couldn’t wait to tell us all about building dune buggies and four-wheelers. He stood up straight, smiled, and joked about his wife having to put up with all the mess in the garage — and oh my. When he related the experience of driving over beaches, the thrill and pleasure he got from it, we were all transported. It was as though we were there in the buggy with him, the radio blasting. Sam even taught at-risk youth how to refurbish vehicles, how to drive and fix them, and how to find a career. When he finished, we all sat stunned for a moment. Even his colleagues couldn’t react, they were so surprised. But once we started applauding, we couldn’t stop.

Your passion allows you to be… well, you. As a matter of fact, most people don’t know what they look like when speaking passionately. I’ll bet you light up like Rockefeller Center during the holidays when you get going.

When you are connected to who you are, all the stuff that gets in the way is diminished. And by the way, anyone watching you doesn’t care as much about technicalities. When Sam was talking about zipping along in his dune buggy, I was busy visualizing the sand, sunset, and speed. I wouldn’t have noticed if he had used some incorrect grammar or stuck his hand in his pocket. I just wanted to see more of this interesting, funny guy.

Here’s what I’m asking you to do: go deep. What really matters to you? Knowing about your passion is critical to bringing power to your presentations.

This is also the point where some people suddenly feel stuck.

“Well, of course I do well talking about something fun or meaningful. But what do I do when I’m stuck with that boring quarterly report? How can passion possibly apply to that?”

That’s the key. Finding out what’s important to you, no matter the topic, is one of the trickiest but most effective ways to be really bad in the best way. Even the driest topic can be animated by passion — you just have to identify how you connect to it. I’ll talk about that next.

APPLYING PASSION TO WORK

I worked with an impressive manager at an East Coast Internet and cable service provider. I’ll call him Todd. Todd’s first presentation was about the company’s health and wellness program. Sounds great, but Todd looked like he had the flu while presenting — he was visibly unhappy. He actually said, right before he began, “I’m warning you, this is going to be really boring.”

And it was boring! He just delivered the outline of the program and a bunch of numbers. Something wasn’t clicking. He happened to be a very fit, active guy, naturally excited about health and wellness. It took some digging, but we finally figured out that Todd was disappointed with a major portion of the program. Employees weren’t embracing one of the offerings — it was a waste of the company’s time and money, which frustrated him intensely.

Todd really liked the walking and smart-diet portions of the program. He felt they were financially efficient, and they were extensively embraced by employees. So I challenged him: could he present his thoughts about slimming down the program to the company’s leadership and focus on the parts that really worked? It was like someone had just thrown him a surprise party — he laughed and started working on his new presentation right away. He was passionate about the health and wellness program. Passionate about making it good rather than wasteful.

Now, let’s take a reality check here. Presenting your opinion on company programs is not always possible. It can risk your reputation or even your job. We made sure to question Todd closely about the appropriateness of this action. Luckily, he was in a position where he could state opinions freely. And let’s not forget, when he was fueled by his passionate belief that the program could really work, he made a powerful presentation. He didn’t go in and complain. He went in to convince his audience that he had a more effective, more budget-conscious option so that they would reorganize the program. He used his passion to create and present options that were well received. What started out as a boring corporate chore became an opportunity to make a difference.

Try applying this to your own work. I’m sure you’ve been stuck with presenting a quarterly report or a department update that made you want to fall asleep, let alone your audience. Where’s the passion in that? It’s there, but some rigor is needed to find it. Any information you present has some connection to you. Try taking the time to ask why it matters:

 

› How does this apply to me?

› If I could change anything in this situation, what would it be? Can I talk about that?

› If this is the most important thing I’m doing today, how can I find the powerful part of it?

› What piece of this do I really care about?

› If I don’t care, why is that? What could change to make me care?

 

Those questions allow you to pause in the midst of your busy life and consider what matters to you. Examining motivations, opinions, and thoughts on any topic allows anyone to present in a more meaningful way. When working with presenters, I’m surprised how often they’ve forgotten to ask themselves why they are doing what they are doing. And time spent digging a little deeper is well spent — it enables your ability to connect to passion and meaning, no matter what the topic.

Channel your passion — find surprising places where it might apply. I’ll be sharing more stories of people who took boring updates, applied their passion, and came out fabulously bad.

But before we move on, let me make an important point.

Does this mean that if you’re passionate, nothing else in presentations matters? No. Being both passionate and effective in your presentations is the magic combination. It means that passion can transform you, elevate you, connect you with your audience. The questions to ask are “How can I be myself and bring my passion out?” “How can I show it without being so crazy or emotional that I sink my own ship?”

Rethink your approach to speaking. Instead of focusing your preparation and presentations on following rules, start centering them on you. What matters? What do you want to accomplish? How can you have the most fun?

And whatever you do, break any rules that don’t work for you!