Turn Off All Phones
In the last article I issued an instruction: apologise for nothing. It's simple advice, based on simple logic: if something in your talk necessitates an apology, then that something shouldn't be in your talk. It also reflects a point in style: people want you to believe in yourself, they would prefer you to be good. But - as some people who responded asked - does this not border on arrogance, or even aggression, and could it not do more harm than good? I certainly didn't mean it this way, but if taken to that extreme we introduce a new issue, one which was brilliantly exemplified earlier this year by a big-name actor, playing on an Irish stage.
The use of the phrase "don't apologise" is an entreaty to the nervous presenter to just get on with it. I didn't mean it to be totally literal, insofar as if you stand on someone's toe, or forget to give handouts to one half of the room, then a gracious apology is perfectly in order. It is important to speak with conviction, but this does not mean that you cannot also be nice. And you must be nice, to everyone in the audience, which brings me back to the actor that I alluded to, earlier.
Many of you will probably have guessed that I'm referring to Ralph Fiennes, who appeared in the Gate theatre this year in Brian Friel's Faith Healer. During the opening minutes of one performance, the mobile phone of a woman in the audience rang, prompting Fiennes to break out of character and bark at her to "turn that f*****g thing off". Although not the same as a presentation, the incident does highlight a key point - if you attack one member of the audience, everyone will feel it.
It was only one line, but it sent ripples, not just through the audience, but through the whole country. It was mentioned in newspaper articles, and discussed on national radio. Normally if a phone went off in a situation like that, the audience would direct their hostilities on the hapless perpetrator. But when the person is then vilified by the host on stage, the sympathies of the audience will change, as they feel the injury to one of their own. The same thing happens in presentations. If you are rude, brusque, arrogant or cruel to a member of your audience - however irritating you might be finding them - you will harm your relationship with the whole audience. There is a "them and us" complex established, even for the brief duration of the presentation, which you must respect.
I experienced this, memorably, when I was a student. Someone was chatting quietly enough in a lecture, when suddenly the lecturer rounded on him, and fairly aggressively instructed him to desist. He further warned that he wasn't in the business of tolerating such behaviour in his lectures. It may have been that this lecturer had endured troublesome students in the past, but this rebuke seemed to come totally out of the blue. It had a very damaging effect on the fragile lecturer-student trust in the class, and the fact that I remember this incident - clearly, and alone among the many hours of this rather dry subject - all these years later, is telling. And I wasn't giving presentation skills courses at the time; in fact had never even made a presentation by this early stage in my career.
Heavy handed audience control is never a good thing. Making an example of an individual is a form of bullying, which, although effective, is very harmful. I'm sure most of you assume that you never do this, but in a subtle way, many of you do. It can happen, without your conscious awareness, when you are taking questions. Presenters greatly fear questions, and this can lead them to be slightly hostile or short with the questioner. Try very hard not to be. Be nice to your interrogator - the Q&A session is often the best part of the whole presentation. Remember: the person asking the question is speaking in front of the group too - without the authority or expertise that you have - and they will almost always be more nervous than you are.
Respect for the audience is the overall message here. By not apologising for things that shouldn't need to be apologised for, you are showing that you have prepared well, and that you respect the needs of the audience. And by being nice to the audience, you are showing another form of respect. If you deny one audience member this courtesy, you'll be denying all of them.
The use of the phrase "don't apologise" is an entreaty to the nervous presenter to just get on with it. I didn't mean it to be totally literal, insofar as if you stand on someone's toe, or forget to give handouts to one half of the room, then a gracious apology is perfectly in order. It is important to speak with conviction, but this does not mean that you cannot also be nice. And you must be nice, to everyone in the audience, which brings me back to the actor that I alluded to, earlier.
Many of you will probably have guessed that I'm referring to Ralph Fiennes, who appeared in the Gate theatre this year in Brian Friel's Faith Healer. During the opening minutes of one performance, the mobile phone of a woman in the audience rang, prompting Fiennes to break out of character and bark at her to "turn that f*****g thing off". Although not the same as a presentation, the incident does highlight a key point - if you attack one member of the audience, everyone will feel it.
It was only one line, but it sent ripples, not just through the audience, but through the whole country. It was mentioned in newspaper articles, and discussed on national radio. Normally if a phone went off in a situation like that, the audience would direct their hostilities on the hapless perpetrator. But when the person is then vilified by the host on stage, the sympathies of the audience will change, as they feel the injury to one of their own. The same thing happens in presentations. If you are rude, brusque, arrogant or cruel to a member of your audience - however irritating you might be finding them - you will harm your relationship with the whole audience. There is a "them and us" complex established, even for the brief duration of the presentation, which you must respect.
I experienced this, memorably, when I was a student. Someone was chatting quietly enough in a lecture, when suddenly the lecturer rounded on him, and fairly aggressively instructed him to desist. He further warned that he wasn't in the business of tolerating such behaviour in his lectures. It may have been that this lecturer had endured troublesome students in the past, but this rebuke seemed to come totally out of the blue. It had a very damaging effect on the fragile lecturer-student trust in the class, and the fact that I remember this incident - clearly, and alone among the many hours of this rather dry subject - all these years later, is telling. And I wasn't giving presentation skills courses at the time; in fact had never even made a presentation by this early stage in my career.
Heavy handed audience control is never a good thing. Making an example of an individual is a form of bullying, which, although effective, is very harmful. I'm sure most of you assume that you never do this, but in a subtle way, many of you do. It can happen, without your conscious awareness, when you are taking questions. Presenters greatly fear questions, and this can lead them to be slightly hostile or short with the questioner. Try very hard not to be. Be nice to your interrogator - the Q&A session is often the best part of the whole presentation. Remember: the person asking the question is speaking in front of the group too - without the authority or expertise that you have - and they will almost always be more nervous than you are.
Respect for the audience is the overall message here. By not apologising for things that shouldn't need to be apologised for, you are showing that you have prepared well, and that you respect the needs of the audience. And by being nice to the audience, you are showing another form of respect. If you deny one audience member this courtesy, you'll be denying all of them.
posted by Barry Brophy at 12:10 PM
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