Are you a TMI speaker?

Here's a speaking characteristic I suspect you don't want to demonstrate. TMI. Too Much Information. It might appear to be a good problem to have, especially if you are being paid to deliver your knowledge. However, it is not at all helpful to your audience to overwhelm them with facts and figures that they have little time to absorb, let alone use. I see the TMI phenomenon often at events all around the world. Some speakers fear that they are not getting enough information across, so pack their speeches with detailed evidence to back up their messages (yes, they deliver a whole bunch of different messages too). 

The symptoms of TMI can be observed in the audience, by watching people getting increasingly frustrated, and saying to each other "Did you get that?" There are several possible causes. Firstly, the speaker may be rushing through their material in order to finish on time. That's never going to work, since the audience will feel cheated. Secondly, there may be way too much information on the slides, accompanied by the speaker saying "You probably can't see the detail on this slide, so I will talk you through it". (Oh dear).

In most cases, however, it's simply a case of trying to deliver too many messages in one speech. Here's my rule of thumb; one speech, one message. That's it. It's simple, clear and prevents any confusion. The thing is, a week or two later, people in your audience will remember just the one thing that made the greatest impression on them.

So the cure for TMI is obvious and simple. Focus on one message only, and provide plenty of time for your audience to understand it.

Please don't ask me for a testimonial...

...unless I've seen the quality of your work.

If I know you, and I know how good you are, I will happily give you a testimonial. You won't even have to ask, since I always write testimonials for people I work with (or see working with clients) that impress me.

Alas, I receive requests on a regular basis from people I've never met, or hardly know. Sometimes they have written a testimonial for me (often on LinkedIn), and ask for one in return. It's tough for me, since I don't wish to appear ungrateful, but I often reply explaining why I can't reciprocate. I often delete their testimonial for me too, since it's not based on any real evidence.

I believe that the practice of recommending and doing "testimonial deals" between individuals who barely have a relationship is devaluing testimonials in general. I'm not impressed by the number of testimonials on a profile. I rely on personal recommendations.

What's your view?

The OOPS Factor

TV presenter Dennis Norden used to front a show which featured clips of things going wrong on TV and in films. On one occasion, he mentioned the "oops factor", which he defined as "Objects Only Perform Sometimes". I believe it's a corollary of Murphy's Law, which states "If something can go wrong, it will" (to which I will add Stevens' variation "especially in front of an audience"). In short, you need to have a plan B. 

It's impossible to anticipate every possible cause of problems on stage. There may be technical issues, venue problems or external factors that cause disruption. However. you can greatly reduce the chances of embarrassment by taking some simple precautions in advance.
The best advice I can offer is to stay calm. Your audience will understand that things can go awry, but as long as you deal with them with patience and a little humour, they will forgive you. In fact, you can make a huge impression on them by taking problems in your stride and not panicking. Here are a few things to reduce your oops factor.

• Take spares for everything - batteries, bulbs, memory sticks
• Rehearse every use of technology
• If there are handovers between presenters, rehearse those too
• Establish what happens if audio or video fails
• Practice in the same place, and with the same equipment you will be using "live"
• Bring spare stage clothes in case of spills or damage
• Always be prepared to give or finish your presentation without any technical aids at all
• Smile. These things happen

Mike Tindall and the muppets at the RFU

Mike Tindall's international rugby career is almost certainly over. His removal from the England elite squad, and fine of £25,000 has made it unlikely that he'll ever pull on the white jersey with the red rose again. His punishment comes after a grainy video of his behaviour in a Queenstown nightclub with a former girlfriend, the day after England's game with Argentina.

It's clear that Mike Tindall had been drinking. So had most of his team-mates, since there was no squad ban on drinking or going to clubs. He also hugged, and was kissed on the head, by a former girlfriend. Er...that's it.

I'm not suggesting that Mike Tindall should have gone unpunished for being the worse for drink in a nightclub at 2am, but the penalty seems extraordinarily harsh. I think it has far more to do with the shambles at the top of the Rugby Football Union (RFU), and the struggle for power between the blazered officials. It looks like current head honcho Rob Andrew is trying to make a point.

Two England officials committed a severe breach of the Rugby World Cup rules by switching the ball before a kick. Their penalty? They couldn't sit on the bench at the next game. So deliberate cheating in a game is a minor offence, compared to having a few beers and being kissed by a former girlfriend?

No-one expects our sports people to be always completely sober and celibate. Bobby Moore and most of his England football colleagues were legendary drinkers. I was at Stamford Bridge many years ago when Bobby Charlton played his last game for Manchester United. He was given an award in the centre circle before the game - a silver cigarette box. Apparently he received a gallon of whisky in the dressing room later.

Having a drink from time to time is not a problem. I have a thick head right now after our team won the school quiz night last evening, and we returned home and drank the prize (some very nice shiraz).

Of course, times change. We expect our sports people to set an example. When they transgress, they should be penalised. But the punishment should be fair and proportionate, not a grand public gesture by an official trying to keep his job.

Lest we forget

This is William John Godwin, my great uncle, and one of my grandmother's beloved two brothers. He joined the army in 1914, aged 20, and volunteered for the Machine Gun Corps. In 1916, he was posted to The Somme. On September 23rd, 1916, he fell in battle. All we have to remember him by is this photograph. His brother, Arthur, was in the Merchant Navy, and drowned on April 3rd 1917 when his ship, HMS Jason, was torpedoed.

My grandmother rarely spoke of her brothers. It was too painful. On the rare occasions when she did, it was with great sadness, but also great pride.

That's why I wear a poppy.

Is your presentation too linear?

I was in Mallorca for a few days last week. The railway line that runs from Palma to Soller is not what you could call a straight line. It runs through tunnels and winds through mountains, but gets to the right destination. Speeches don't have to be a straight line either. Traditionally, you tell people what you are going to tell them, tell them, and tell them what you told them (the traditional "business sandwich"). Often a series of slides takes you along the path from start to finish, making it tough to deviate at all.

Some display software, such as Prezi allows the creation of a presentation from chunks of information that don't need to follow in any particular sequence. However, delivering a non-linear presentation is not about software, it's about an approach which many speakers find uncomfortable. Increasingly, audiences are demanding a style which is more than just a procession of slides, so now is probably a good time to think about your speech structure.

Not every speech lends itself to a non-linear style. Not every audience will appreciate it. Furthermore, you must still have some kind of overall structure and aim, otherwise you will simply be presenting a mass of information with no overall message. Delivering in a non-linear way may demand more preparation and more subject knowledge than a linear narrative. It may also require what a pal of mine used to call "a big dose of brave pills".

Many stand-up comedians are masters of non-linear delivery. They can deviate for minutes at a time, but still return to a core message. They may tell stories in a different sequence each time they speak, responding to prompts or questions from the audience, or just how they feel. In my opinion, the more interactive and non-linear you can learn to be, the more people will want to see you speak. You can choose to ignore the trend, but the train may leave without you.

Liam Fox on the run

As I predicted in my email newsletter this morning, Dr Liam Fox MP has resigned as defence secretary.

Though he has remained dignified in the manner of his departure, and also in his resignation letter, his friends have already appeared on radio and TV to blame the media for his demise. It's a common plaint from politicians when they are forced to leave office after a series of indiscretions. However, there would have been no press interest had there not been some very odd goings-on. Speculation about Dr Fox's sexuality played no part in media reporting, nor should it have done. The damage was caused by a series of inexplicable events which grew more puzzling by the day. Alas, Dr Fox has only himself to blame.

Lessons for all politicians.

1) Don't misbehave
2) If you do, don't lie about it
3) If you get caught, apologise and admit everything.

Our Olympic dreams are shattered

When the announcement was made that the 2012 Olympics would be held in London, we broke open the champagne. My wife, daughter and I live four miles from the Stratford site, so we were sure we'd be able to get involved. We looked forward to seeing events, and maybe volunteering to help out. It would be the greatest party ever.

My daughter worked out that she and her friends would be 15 in Olympic year, and set her heart on some kind of role, such as volunteering to help, or taking part in a ceremony at the opening or closing. As a pupil at a local school, we were sure there would be some activities. We were wrong. As a governor at two schools less than a five-minute drive from the games site, there has been no benefit at all, and no involvement of the children in the Olympic project. Furthermore, worries about child protection have meant that only over-18s can volunteer or take part in ceremonies, crushing the hopes of thousands of local children, many of whom will be outside the fence, tearfully looking in when the games are on.

Then there's the ticketing fiasco. We didn't apply for tickets, for a reason I will explain shortly. However, many of our local friends did. Hardly anyone received any tickets at all. Despite having been affected by years of construction and transport "upgrades", there's been no thought given to any gesture towards local people, other than a two-fingered one from the London 2012 organisers. Around the UK, we don't know anyone among our friends that received more than a fraction of what they applied for. No-one got near the athletics or the swimming.

We didn't apply for tickets because I decided to volunteer for the PR and media team. Though I put in my application over two years ago, I still hadn't received a date for an interview when the ticket lottery opened. I knew that as a volunteer, I'd be busy during the games, so decided not to apply at all.

My Olympic volunteer application form specified three areas: Press and Media (First preference), General PR team, (second preference), Brand protection (Third preference). Why? Because I've worked in radio and TV for over 30 years, I've been in over 3,000 media interviews, I've written several books on media skills, I'm a Chartered PR Practitioner, and I run a successful media consultancy advising major global brands. I knew there were no guarantees, but with a requirement for over 5,000 volunteers in PR and media, I thought I had a pretty good chance of selection.

I did get selected for interview, but not for the press and media team, not for the general PR team, and not for the brand protection team. I was selected for the transport team. I rang to enquire what this meant, and was told "It's either driving officials to and from venues, or it's helping to run the car parks". I meant no disrespect to cabbies and car park attendants when I said "What???" Of course, I requested a change of team. "That's not possible" I was told "You have been allocated to the team best suited to your skills, and there is no appeal". I assume "best suited to my skills" means that I can drive, or point at a car parking space while wearing a yellow vest.

We're very, very disappointed. For years, my family and I have looked forward to the Olympics coming to our part of our city. We all feel badly let down. As things stand, we'll probably go abroad and rent out our house, so at least we get something from the Olympic debacle.

It just goes to show that to get things wrong, you need a Government oficial, but to really foul things up, you need an Olympic committee. I've lost interest in London 2012. Roll on 2013.

Speechwatch: David Cameron, Conservative Party Conference 2011

David Cameron was 25 minutes late starting, giving rise to speculation that he was doing a last-minute rewrite. He added in a "joke" about "catgate", which fell flat, like all politicians attempting humour.

He seemed confused about whether it's a Conservative Government or a Coalition Government, and used the terms randomly. In some sections he seemed to be positioning the Conservatives as more socialist that Labour. He called them the "part of the NHS" which I'm sure raised a few eyebrows nationally.

His regular speech patterns were in evidence "Let me say this.." "I'd like to say.." They weren't in the text of the speech, so are clearly part of his delivery style. He didn't over-excite the audience, and it was hardly his best speech. It was fairly subdued, possibly to match the national mood. He looked and sounded tired for much if the speech. 

I suspect that the re-writes and the media reaction overnight to the early briefings may have knocked the stuffing out of the speech to some extent. There were a few strong patches, but not as many as the audience probably hoped for. There were no major (or even minor) gaffes, but I doubt that any of the phrases will live long in the memory.

His delivery was faltering and hoarse to begin with (possibly the reason for delay). It built to a crescendo late in the speech and finished in strong. Not the greatest speech, but competent enough.

He can do much better. I'd rate it six out of ten.

Speechwatch; Ed Milliband, Labour Party Conference 2011

Ed Milliband is not the greatest political speaker of his generation, by quite a long way, but I thought his performance today showed that he''s improving fast.

I felt he overdid the opening bonhomie, with references to his wife and sons, but perhaps it gave him a chance to overcome his nerves. It sounded as though a speechwriter had written "icebreaker" at the top of the sheet, and then they'd decided how to fill a couple of minutes with family-friendly welcomes, like the father of the bride at a wedding.

Once he was into the speech proper, he aimed a few shots at Nick Clegg, but the audience were slow to pick up the pace. Even though the speech was short on policy, there were several clear themes. Firstly "New bargain". He used the phrase a dozen times throughout, and delivered a fine piece of anaphora in his closing remarks;

"The fight for a new bargain. A new bargain in our economy so reward is linked to effort. A new bargain based on your values so we can pay our way in the world. A new bargain to ensure responsibility from top to bottom. And a new bargain to break open the closed circles..."

A secondary theme was the "predator and producer", where he likened the bankers in general (and Fred Goodwin in particular) to the former, and manufacturing industry, like Rolls Royce, to the latter, No prize for guessing which he preferred.

Thirdly, there was the "closed circles" at the top of society, a clear reference to the backgrounds of much of the current cabinet. He linked this to tertiary education, though I'm not entirely sure what he meant by a "competitive university"

Overall, I think it's the best speech he's delivered so far as Labour leader. He rallied the faithful with "You can't trust the Tories on the NHS", and the audience warmed to him as the speech went on. Competent but not brilliant, with no obvious gaffes.

I'll give him 7 out of 10.

Speechwatch: NIck Clegg. LibDem Conference Sept 2011

Nick Clegg had a tough speech to deliver in Birmingham today. Support in both his party and the country at large has fallen away in the 500 days since the election.

"Not easy but right" was a phrase he used often. He used the old ply of "this conference hall stands on the site of...." to link his speech to Liberal history. Barack Obama used a similar gambit in his brilliant "more perfect union" speech in Philadelphia in March 2008. Nick Clegg is not a great orator (nor is Barack Obama in my view), but he knows how to deliver a political speech to an audience outside the hall.

He indulged in plenty of Labour-bashing, but said barely a word about his coalition partner, for obvious reasons. The Tories have taken a lot of stick from other conference speakers, but the Deputy PM was having none of it. He tried a few lines of humour, such as the gifts exchanged between him and the French President (Kendal Mint Cake). Alas, the jokes were weak, and his delivery somewhat wooden. There was also the conference cliche of the personal story ("One young woman called Chantal told me..."). There was a good line about being "in nobody's pocket" that drew prolonged applause.

It was a fairly sombre speech overall, without any specific promises, and it was received well, if not rapturously. Paddy Ashdown, a party darling, received several mentions and praise.

He closed with a good triplet-based crescendo about the riots: "Britain is our home. We will make it safe and strong. These are our children. We will tear down every barrier they face. And this is our future. We start building it today."

Overall, a steady-as-she-goes speech, which was competent rather than spectacular.

MediaCoach Speechindex : 6 out of 10.

The Bad, The Good and The Indifferent: Gordon Ramsay, Hyatt, BA

Brands are all about perception. Allow me to tell you a story in three parts about my weekend, that illustrates the point rather neatly.

I flew to Dallas, Texas, to attend a conference of Meeting Professionals International (MPI). I was booked to fly BA out of Heathrow Terminal 5, and I arrived in time to grab some food before boarding the flight. Like all new airport terminals, T5 is more of a fly-by shopping mall, so there is the usual mix of luxury shops and fast food outlets. Last time I passed through, I had a very pleasant huevos ranchos in Giraffe, the eco-friendly world music restaurant. This time, I spotted Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food (Geddit?) so wandered in to sample some fine fast dining, or so I thought. I was shown to a bench seat that stretched past several tables. Alas, a waiter was cleaning the same bench seat two tables down, so I was rocked back and forth for about thirty seconds as he scrubbed the beige vinyl. Not a great start. I ordered eggs Benedict (my regular travelling breakfast, by which I compare restaurants) and black coffee.

The food arrived fairly quickly, and was placed in front of me. I regarded it with suspicion. A large white plate had on it what appeared to be something like eggs Benedict, as conceived by a five-year-old. The base was half of an untoasted, cold, white bap. Several thin slices of cold supermarket ham covered it, with two tiny hard-poached eggs perched on top. The whole thing was covered in a yellow sauce with a darker colour, and different taste, to hollandaise sauce. The taste was unexpectedly bland, and unlike any other eggs Benedict I have ever tried. I ate two bites and gave up. The waiter returned for the "Is everything OK?" question and I reported "No, the food was awful". He replied "How strange, we've served lots of those today". That was it. No apology, no reduction, no concern. I wonder what Gordon would say?

On arrival in Texas, I took a cab to the Hyatt Regency, North Dallas. The service was of a standard I have rarely encountered. The staff were attentive without being overbearing, the food was tasty and healthy, and everything worked perfectly. I couldn't fault it. It was such a pleasure to be relaxed and comfortable.

On the flight home, I was reflecting on the contrast betweem my experiences of the Gordon Ramsay and Hyatt brands. They couldn't have been more different, but the difference was mainly the attitude of the staff. It's often said that service is better in the US because people work for tips. It's much more than that. It's an approach that is regarded as the norm, regardless of whether tips are involved. As I pondered this thought, my in-flight meal arrived. I will spare you the details, but every element was inedible. As the flight attendant collected my uneaten food she said 'I'm sorry about that - we have no control over this". Fair enough. She was doing her best, but the food production and quality control had failed.

So there we are. Three brands; Gordon Ramsay, Hyatt and BA. The Bad, The Good and The Indifferent. It's the small things that matter.

What are social networks good at?

Someone asked me the other day "What are the really good things about social networks?" it made me stop and think. Like you, I use social networks on a regular basis. I make connections, find out interesting stuff, and let others know what I do. I've never really considered why I find social networks so useful. So here are three things that I think are really handy:  

1) Speed. News stories often break on Twitter, which is why all journalists have Twitter accounts, and alerts set up on their topics of interest. However, speed is just speed. It's not analysis. Social media is really useful in alerting you to something that just happened, so that you can look into it on more detail. If you're the kind of person who needs to know stuff first, social media is brilliant. But there's a caveat. Because you don't usually know the source of the information, there may be no validity check. It's probably better to say that social media can alert you to something that may have happened, and you need to find a trusted source to be sure.

2) Structure There's more and more random information flying around the web. Social media tends to facilitate hubs and groups of interest that provide structure to that information. Again, you need to be aware of the possible bias of the curator. However, getting a current view of a topic you don't fully understand is much easier than it used to be.  

3) Mood Finding out what people think about an issue is also made much easier by social networks. Online campaigns and petitions are now seen as reliable indicators of the public mood. Once again, the usual warnings apply, but if a few hundred thousand people feel strongly enough about an issue to comment online, there must be something going on.

Not quite beyond the fringe...

I’m sitting in my hotel room in Edinburgh, looking out on a glorious Scottish morning, reflecting on an interesting experience. Last night, I performed a stand-up comedy gig to an audience of around 150, some of whom had just wandered in off the street, having seen the “Bright Club – one night only – free show” signs outside the Informatics Building at Edinburgh University, where the event took place. It came about after a phone call three days ago from UCL (University College, London). A friend asked me if I might be free on Saturday evening. Thinking it might be an invitation to an event with free beer, I checked the diary, checked with my family, and told him I was. “Great” he said “We’ll book your hotel and cover your train tickets. We’d like you to do a stand-up comedy routine in Edinburgh on Saturday night”.

OK, I thought. I do the occasional spot of stand-up, and being a speaker, use humour in my speeches. But I’m not a career comedian, and the Edinburgh Fringe is full of cracking performers. Would anybody come to watch? If they do, how will it go? But there was more. “By the way” said my pal “the other comics are all scientists. Can you do a science routine?” So now I’m right in it. I’ve agreed to the gig, and I’ve got three days to write a ten-minute set of science gags, to be performed at an Edinburgh Fringe event. I pick up my pencil. Nothing occurs to me at all. I go for a run, and return with an idea for a riff about astronomy, featuring Patrick Moore and a few puns (“It may be no constellation to you….”). I work on it and find I’ve got about three minutes of material. I try it on my wife and daughter, and they both laugh. That’s a very good sign.

I then get an idea for a running gag based on songs with scientist’s names in; “What a day Faraday dream, Darwin-er takes it all, You were made Fermi…”. Alas, I get so interested in thinking these up that by the time I board the train to Edinburgh, I’m still around six minutes short, and I haven’t rehearsed. Luckily, it’s a four and a half hour journey, so by the time the train pulls into Waverley station, I’ve enough to fill the set, though I haven’t tested it on anyone (testing is a vital part of comedy). The gig is still 24 hours away, so I meet up with a good pal for drinks at a Fringe venue (he lives in Edinburgh and is a comedy veteran). We swap some stories, I try a few lines, and he suggests a couple of scientist song puns.

The next day, I wander around Edinburgh, buy a few gifts for my family, browse bookshops and linger over some strong coffees. It’s a very relaxing day, but my mind is still on the gig. As always, I wander over to the venue hours ahead of time (mid-day to be precise) to check it out for acoustics, lighting and “feel”. Like many Fringe venues, it’s somewhat rudimentary. I decide not to worry about it and at 3pm, head back to my hotel to rehearse the routine in my room. I find it helpful to run through routines out loud three our four times – the same discipline I adopt for speeches. Then I discard my notes and head off to the venue.

We’re due to start at 6.30, so I arrive at 5.30. The other performers arrive. None of them is even half my age, and they’re full of confidence. I agree to be the opening act, since they’re all local, and have their pals coming to watch, whereas I’m just the old guy from out of town. At 6.25, there are ten people in the audience. The MC, who appears to have just left school, suggests we delay until 6.40. It turns out to be a good call, as by then the barkers have managed to persuade around 150 people to come in out of the rain. I must admit, despite speaking to much larger audiences on a weekly basis, I’m a tad nervous. I need to nail this. The MC does a ten minute opening session, and it’s clear that he’s well known to the crowd. He picks out a few familiar faces and has some saucy banter with them. I realise that there are a number of other fringe performers in the audience. Fine.

Then I’m introduced, so I leap on stage and go into the astronomy routine. The line about Patrick Moore being so large he has his own gravitational field gets a small laugh. Things pick up when I ramble about new names for constellations (Three stars – the Bacon Sandwich…Four points of light, all dim – Cheryl Cole). Then I’m into a story about the time I played a Scottish shopkeeper in an Italian soap opera (absolutely true). I can feel the crowd is onside now. I decide to drop the running gag about song titles, and finish with a longer story about getting my MSc in 1975 with a disastrous research project. They love it. I’ve found their funny bone. I finish with a gag from a pal of mine (which he offered to me for this gig – I would never use it without permission). It’s about the male morning-after pill. “It changes your blood group”. It gets a huge laugh and I’m off stage with a wave of thanks.

The other comics perform well. The gig ends at 7.30 and we repair to a restaurant for a meal of faggots and gravy washed down with single malts. All the performers, including me, are high on adrenaline. I’m pleased that it’s an early finish so I’ll at least be able to get to sleep after the euphoria wears off. In the event we head off to the castle and watch the military tattoo and fireworks at midnight before more whiskies.

In the morning (now as I write this) I’m amazed not to be hungover. Maybe it hasn’t hit yet. So that was it. I managed to pull off a good gig at the Edinburgh Fringe. I’m not switching to a career in stand-up. It wouldn’t be an easy life. Bob Monkhouse used to say “My friends laughed when I said I was going to be a comedian, but they’re not laughing now”