#25 FOOLPROOF SPEAKING

Here's a story with a few details changed to protect identities.

A sales team is getting ready to pitch a big client, in this case, let’s say it's BMW. The Biz Dev team is involved trying to get a full tech partnership, so the pressure is high. 

Somewhat relevant: long ago a very successful sales executive pulled me aside to give me tough feedback on my writing for him:

"Jesse," he said, "you need to understand that advertising sales is the number one way for C students to get really rich."  

Meanwhile, the Biz Dev folks tend to see themselves as A students, and like some other teams they look down on the Sales team. (Generally a mistake.)

So the Biz Dev fella pulls rank and says, "I'll manage the flow of this meeting.”

He continues, “And it’ll go awesome, since I own 2 BMW's and love them. I'll open it up with common ground."  

Which is exactly what he did, and is exactly what cost them the meeting, the partnership, and ultimately the entire future of a critical piece of technology in BMW cars.

How can you botch something that bad in one meeting??  The problem isn’t that he went in there and gushed about his cars. It’s that he gushed about their cars.

The BMW team took it all in graciously, and the full-day meeting finished as planned. The problem: absolutely nothing happened after. No ad spend, no tech partnership, no nothing. BMW checked out for years.

(Said to me once by a wise C-something: “never mistake common courtesy for a good meeting.”)

It turns out the features and car that the (soon former) BD Head was gushing about had unbeknownst to him been one of the BMW execs' most divisive issues internally.

The issue had driven a rift between some of execs in the room, cost others their jobs altogether, and generally became a reminder of their worst moments. 

This is like a sommelier saying, "before we get to the wine, let's talk about your divorce!" 

Biz Dev’s final grade: F+

There’s a better way.

The basic way you probably learned persuasive speaking is there are 2 kinds of audiences: hostile, and sympathetic.

But in practice, it's much more useful to think of 3 kinds of audiences: hostile, sympathetic, and APATHETIC. 

The key to success is to remember that ALL audiences, no matter how primed they are–no matter what their reason for gathering, who you are, who they are, and no matter what the mood of the room–will be apathetic when you start your talk.  

And they’ll remain apathetic, unless and until you make them like you or hate you.

The biggest mistake most speakers make is exactly what the BD head did: He rushed the audience’s decision about whether or not to like him.

One of the most valuable pieces of speaking advice I could give you (and I’m about to) is to focus the bulk of your effort solely on the conversion from apathetic to sympathetic.

This conversion, in fact, is the ONLY PURPOSE OF YOUR INTRO.

The rest is all the stuff you actually know and matters most to you. And only after you succeed in the conversion, can that stuff ever matter to your audience.

The process is counterintuitive (except your C-student sales team probably does it naturally), and there are a few different methods to do it.

Here comes one I use that is the most reliably successful. (100%)

As I mentioned, the biggest idea to get comfy with is you need to spend way more time than you think on your intro.

This WILL offend your sense of efficiency. If you've only got 20 minutes on stage, it feels insane to spend 6-8 of them warming up! It’s not.

I get it, though. We’re talking about 700 words, or the first 2 whole PAGES of your script. You’ll hate to see all that “fluff” in a draft, and your team will try to veto it. Good luck.

But you didn’t propose marriage on a first date (I assume?)

It’s common sense we have to warm people up. You have to put in slow work up front to expect any results in the end. (Remember: efficiency is an equation, even in comms).

Yet, for some reason on a stage, especially in business, we feel pressured to "get to the point." If you really want to move an audience, you must resist this.

The magic intro that converts apathetic to sympathetic has 4 parts. Also note the time proportions: 

1. Super light; Non-threatening. (3 minutes)

2. Medium heavy; Non-required reading.  (1.5 minutes)

3. Über heavy; Fast and short.  (15 seconds)

4. Retreat to super light; Transition to core content.  (30 seconds)

1. Super light; Non-threatening (3 minutes)

The way our BD guy screwed this up is where it says "non-threatening."  You should always open to an apathetic audience in a way that allows them to easily continue being apathetic.

This doesn’t mean non-interesting. Hook your audience, but make sure it takes zero emotional risk for them to enjoy it. In other words, tell a good story that DOESN’T MATTER. 

No politics, no religion, and definitely no comments on the event. Talk about what you did last weekend, or something that happened in a coffee shop on the way here. Very light, no brains necessary.

And remember: this is the longest part of your intro. So it’ll feel wasteful to talk about something like spilling coffee on yourself.

But making it as easy as possible to listen to you lays a foundation for something you’ll desperately need when you get to the important stuff later: an audience who’s already in the habit of listening to you. 

So keep it very light, and much longer than you think. I can’t stress how important this very low-key entry is to your outcome.

2. Medium heavy; Non-required reading (1.5 minutes)

Next, you're going to go "medium-heavy." Don’t get too smart or important, just a teeny bit interesting.

And this MUST be "non-required reading."  Here’s what I mean: you're going to share something that’s both: (A) objectively true and (B) completely unnecessary.

This is a slick banana to peel.

By "objectively true," I mean it has to click instantly—something your audience hears and immediately thinks, “Oh yeah, I never thought of that.” No convincing, no explaining.

And by "non-required reading," I mean it cannot be something they feel they should’ve known, or will benefit from knowing now.

Think useless trivia vibe. Zero pressure. No shame. NO subtle flex or humblebrag from you. Just a mildly interesting fact that slips right in and floats there.

Anatomy lesson: what's happening here? 

If you do this right, this section is pure surgery. First, you’re earning credibility before your audience is even aware of it. “Logos,” in rhetoric terms.

But in comms-y Jesse terms: you’re stacking bricks on a foundation.

You’re building habits in your audience of doing the things sympathetic audiences do. (Like agree with assertions, and trust speakers.)

Second, you're sort of outing yourself as weird—in a good way.

You're making clear your ideas aren't from McKinsey, or Gartner, or any of the same crap every “thought leader” thinks matters.

No, this is interesting. YOU are interesting. Maybe worth listening a little closer.

But again: to cast this spell, you CAN’T imply your fact is something they should have known, cared about, or will ever benefit from. You’ll kill the magic.

3. Über heavy; Fast and short (15 seconds)

Okay, now it's time to strike. Super heavy. 

You’ve earned some ease and trust, and it’s safe to spend a little. You’ve got 15 seconds, maybe 20.

The goal here is to go fast, heavy, and deep. It’s your core idea, distilled into an almost-controversial statement. 

Start with a clean pivot from your useless trivia. 

"And you know, that got me to thinking…" 

Then hit it hard, with something that seems wild:

"The Internet as we know it will cease to exist."   "The future of automotive marketing is not the car, or the driver, but the road."  That kind of fluff.

It should feel TOO bold to say. A little heretical. It’s something that makes an audience sit up. Something your CMO hates.

And that discomfort? That’s good. Because your job, for the remainder of your speech, will be to make that wild statement feel perfectly reasonable by the end.

But for now, this is the moment apathy recedes.

So far you’ve been easy to listen to, while laying some nice credibility bricks.

Now, you’re impossible to ignore.

4. Retreat to super light; transition to core content (30 seconds)

Get out!  A fast strike includes a fast recoil. You just atom-bombed an audience out of their apathy, and you need to reduce their stress immediately. 

Quickly minimize the crazy you thing you just said, both in body language and tone.

You can just copy this verbatim if you want, no one will notice: "Okay, I know that sounds crazy, I’m sorry.  But it is actually what I want to talk about today. Because if something like that is true, how would we get actually there?"

If you’ve done this right, curiosity is now the path of least resistance for your audience. 

They want to go with you on this journey. That is sympathetic audience.

Then you start your speech. With all the stuff your dozen stakeholders want you to say.

Remember though: on a TED stage with a 17-minute window? Everything above should have been 5 minutes, or 30% of your allotted time.

If that seems crazy just do math: You could use 100% of your time on your core content and get a 0-10% rate of success. Or, you can shorten your core pitch by 30% and gain a 100% rate of success.

Do you want to feed your ego, or do you want to feed your kids’ grandkids foie gras cereal in their Ferraris?

Finally, a warning:

The process I've described to you is not actually an easy recipe. It's not proper-French-croissants-difficult, but it is a helluva lot harder than sourdough.  

The secret, like anything, is practice.

No one bakes a perfect bread on the first try: have your comms team practice writing these intros while you practice delivery. Test it out on easier audiences first. 

There's nuance in each of the 4 sections, but when you nail it, this method is 100% effective. Even on the crabbiest most-hostile version of Kara Swisher. I've seen it.

Current models of Kara could probably be pleased with sourdough, but in the metaphor and real life, don't you think she deserves some real effin’ croissants??

You do.

Which is to why, if you want the best way to persuade an audience, I just told someone (you) how to do it. For free. For the only time in 20 years.  

Bon apétit,
Jesse

PS: LINKZ! 

• This is a pretty good recipe for getting started with your own croissants, while we're on the topic. 

• I don't like making sourdoughs (I have enough dependents, I don't need one living in a mason jar in the fridge), so this is my favorite and easiest recipe for a daily baguette, French style.

• Want Publera to write your speech this season? Too bad. BUT, (see next bullet)

• Want ME to write your speech? Okay, maybe. As we’re hitting the halfway point on this newsletter experiment, it’s clear the most fun part really has been hearing from everyone who reads. So as long you're comfortable with an extended turnaround time, I'm setting aside some of my personal time in April (normally spent tinkering, reading, or learning) to help the first 4 or so people who email me for a speech review/edit/work session. It'll be free, and you get what you pay for, but I'm a decent baker. And I love to see people getting onstage this time of year. You can just reply to this email to get a hold of me.

• A couple throwbacks: Here’s Issue #3, my original highest-level advice on getting better at speaking. And here's Issue #14 on efficient communication.

• SONG OF THE WEEK: My older brother was here to visit this weekend, and he has a lot more connection than I do to the little slice of Appalachia where we grew up. So it was a fun moment to play him this little twanger on an adventure through the snowy Idaho woods.

PSSSSSSS:  The share link. Send this one to Kara Swisher. I really do owe her something croissant-level someday. For usefulness, though, send this one to any friend with a big talk coming up.