Titles & Labels
The first formal presentation I ever gave was on my Masters project, to an audience of mainly lecturers. I began, logically enough I thought, with the title of my thesis, which was: "Experimental Study of the Effect of Inlet Valve Generated Turbulence on the Rate of Combustion in a 2.5 litre Naturally Aspirated D.I. Diesel Engine". Catchy stuff. In doing so, I had needlessly made the title of my project into the title of a presentation based on that project. There's a difference.
Many people make this mistake, particularly academics, and it reflects a mind that wants to be exact at all times. The title of a presentation, however, is not the place to be splitting hairs. The title should be more of a label than a title. It sets the talk apart from other talks, but doesn't become subsumed in discriminating detail. But labels can hazardous too, particularly in an area as poorly understood as presentations.
Every single word carries baggage, which can prejudice an audience from the off. When choosing a title for my book, for example, I asked as many people as I could for their comments on a list of possibilities. The word 'technical' was rejected straight away. When I speak of a 'technical presentation', I'm referring to any talk with complex domain-specific knowledge, but the word 'technical', it seems, just makes people think of jet engines, Meccano, and silicon chips.
The word 'podium' was also unpopular. To presenters, it suggested fear; to audiences, starched boredom. In fact even the term 'presentation' gives off mixed messages. It is suggestive of a show, or a performance, and reinforces the (wrong) idea that in a presentation you project your words into the auditorium, like someone tossing breadcrumbs to ducks.
When giving courses, I find that the word 'analogy' is one that grates. In a recent conversation with my dad, he said that he didn’t care for analogies. Despite this, he made frequent references to examples of presentations that he had seen at work, and such comparisons are a pure form of analogical reasoning. We use analogies all the time, and because of this, we only notice the more flamboyant, and oftentimes annoying examples of the sort: "This company is a car; the employees are the fuel; the product is the right wheel arch…" etc.
Another word that people react strongly to is, 'story'. When I encourage individuals to use stories in presentations, I often receive responses like, "Ah, I wouldn’t be much of a story teller." But we are all story-tellers; we think, imagine, converse, remember, and even dream in stories. Because stories are such a part of how we make sense of the world, we don't notice them, and the word 'story' has come to mean the more pronounced examples of the art, the cleverly spun yarns and anecdotes that are beyond the ordinary.
Of course if you're worried about the unfortunate connotations that words might have, you can always make up your own ones. But, apart from the risk of alienating people with terms like 'solutionise' and 'webonar' (web-based-seminar…yes?), there is more poetry in the average word than you might imagine. Recently my niece, who lives in England, baffled me, during a conversation about her school, by telling me about a subject called 'resistant materials'. This title, as it turned out, refers to what you and I would know as 'metalwork & woodwork'. The modern term, by comparison, lacks something.
English is a fantastic language, as are all languages, and good words aren't made but rather evolve over time, with only the strong ones surviving. There are many to choose from when titling your talk, but be aware that they may come to mean different things to different people. You should explain the important words clearly before you start, but even this might not be enough because like wood and metal, the average person's connotation of a word, is a resistant material.
Many people make this mistake, particularly academics, and it reflects a mind that wants to be exact at all times. The title of a presentation, however, is not the place to be splitting hairs. The title should be more of a label than a title. It sets the talk apart from other talks, but doesn't become subsumed in discriminating detail. But labels can hazardous too, particularly in an area as poorly understood as presentations.
Every single word carries baggage, which can prejudice an audience from the off. When choosing a title for my book, for example, I asked as many people as I could for their comments on a list of possibilities. The word 'technical' was rejected straight away. When I speak of a 'technical presentation', I'm referring to any talk with complex domain-specific knowledge, but the word 'technical', it seems, just makes people think of jet engines, Meccano, and silicon chips.
The word 'podium' was also unpopular. To presenters, it suggested fear; to audiences, starched boredom. In fact even the term 'presentation' gives off mixed messages. It is suggestive of a show, or a performance, and reinforces the (wrong) idea that in a presentation you project your words into the auditorium, like someone tossing breadcrumbs to ducks.
When giving courses, I find that the word 'analogy' is one that grates. In a recent conversation with my dad, he said that he didn’t care for analogies. Despite this, he made frequent references to examples of presentations that he had seen at work, and such comparisons are a pure form of analogical reasoning. We use analogies all the time, and because of this, we only notice the more flamboyant, and oftentimes annoying examples of the sort: "This company is a car; the employees are the fuel; the product is the right wheel arch…" etc.
Another word that people react strongly to is, 'story'. When I encourage individuals to use stories in presentations, I often receive responses like, "Ah, I wouldn’t be much of a story teller." But we are all story-tellers; we think, imagine, converse, remember, and even dream in stories. Because stories are such a part of how we make sense of the world, we don't notice them, and the word 'story' has come to mean the more pronounced examples of the art, the cleverly spun yarns and anecdotes that are beyond the ordinary.
Of course if you're worried about the unfortunate connotations that words might have, you can always make up your own ones. But, apart from the risk of alienating people with terms like 'solutionise' and 'webonar' (web-based-seminar…yes?), there is more poetry in the average word than you might imagine. Recently my niece, who lives in England, baffled me, during a conversation about her school, by telling me about a subject called 'resistant materials'. This title, as it turned out, refers to what you and I would know as 'metalwork & woodwork'. The modern term, by comparison, lacks something.
English is a fantastic language, as are all languages, and good words aren't made but rather evolve over time, with only the strong ones surviving. There are many to choose from when titling your talk, but be aware that they may come to mean different things to different people. You should explain the important words clearly before you start, but even this might not be enough because like wood and metal, the average person's connotation of a word, is a resistant material.
posted by Barry Brophy at 12:09 PM
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