One of the biggest ways that people let themselves down when
giving a presentation is so simple that I actually find it difficult to say out
loud: they don’t really know what they
are going to say.
People come up to me having made a presentation or given a
speech, asking: “How did I do?” The sheepish way in which they often ask
betrays the fact that they already know the answer, which is invariably: “You
didn’t really know what you were going to say, did you?” At which point they
protest about how busy they have been, how they only got a chance to look
through it on the train etc. I don’t usually need to follow through, but if I
did the blunt version would be: “So how can you expect to be any good?”
Part of the problem these days is that we are all exposed to
a fair of stand up comedy and the best performers are very good at giving the
impression they are simply chatting with the audience and making much of it up
as they go along. I urge those I am coaching that this is simply not the case.
“Go and see any comedian for a second, third or fourth night,” I tell them,
“and you will find it remarkably similar, right down to apparent mistakes and
interruptions. If they adlib, they do
so because they have a solid structure for their act; they know that if they
step out of that structure and it doesn’t work, they can get back into it very
quickly. Indeed, having that safety net there frees them to exploit an
opportunity for an adlib should it arise.”
Recently, however, I saw an absolute masterclass in the
principle of appearing to make it all up on the spot, when Alan Davies came to
try out new material at a little pub close to where I live. He was so
convincing with his casual, chatty approach that even I started to think that
perhaps he might be an exception to the rule that I so strongly espouse.
When I got home I started thinking more objectively about
what I had just seen. Davies spent the first ten minutes talking hilariously
about the pub and the neighbourhood. Surely that can’t have been planned? On reflection I am pretty sure it was, for
two admirable reasons. First he would have thought: Where am I going tonight?
A: Peckham. Right, I can use some of my ‘South of the River’ material. That
will juxtapose nicely with all my usual jokes about the pretentious coffee bars
in my neck of the woods. Next, what sort of pub is it? A: ‘London’s first co-operatively
owned pub’. So it’s probably a bit ‘rough and ready’, if not actually run down.
Great, I can use my old material about Health & Safety inspectors and
gangsters in the car parks. How can I make that topical? A: Quip about this
being what Brexit is all about – getting back to proper old fashioned pubs.
We all loved it because it was very funny, but also – and
here comes the second reason it was so good – it was all about us. He engaged us and got us to like him immediately by focusing on our
favourite subject, which is always the same for any audience: ourselves.
As I always say, the priority for anyone with a message to
communicate – be they a business presenter or a comedian - is to think first
and foremost about your audience – who they are, what they know, what they are
thinking. Only then should you start polishing your message in the light of all
that information.
As for truly knowing what you are going to say, Derren
Brown’s early advice to magicians included this little gem: The key to
achieving good spontaneity is very good scripting. It’s not about killing
spontaneity, it’s about setting the framework as best as it can be, to allow
you to have the confidence to move into other areas.
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