Not too long ago, I walked into a room where some of the country’s top oncologists were preparing to launch a new cancer-fighting drug. The occasion was the group’s rehearsal before a big presentation to the Federal Drug Administration. Given that these men and women are some of the best and brightest in their field, I thought the rehearsal would be a breeze. So, I sat down, pen poised to make a few notes so I could help them fine-tune their presentations and be ready for the onslaught of media that was sure to follow.
What a letdown. Five articulate, highly educated, well-dressed presenters, armed with shiny animated slideshows, droned on and on and on and on. It didn’t matter what they were saying because the audience wouldn’t really hear any of it anyway. Around me, eyes closed, and others pretended to take notes while playing solitaire on their laptops. I wondered how in the world I could help these presenters. I also thought about tripling my consultation fee on the spot.
All presenters believe their words are important, and they are. But if you don’t give an audience a good reason to listen, they will quickly tune you out. In...