When does a polished speaker become slick? 

I ask this question because I occasionally see so-called “professional speakers” behaving in peculiar ways.  They have developed a presentation “style” that doesn’t seem natural, that smacks of late night infomercials and snake oil charlatans. 

What they do would get them fired in most corporations, not because of what they say, but because of what their style says about them.

First, let’s define the terms.  Polished means at ease, organized, and skilled at structuring and delivering a talk.

Slick means gimmicky, schticky, schmaltzy, overdone, histrionic, overly theatrical, manipulative, and insincere.

A polished speaker does not let his desire to impress overwhelm his obligation to provide something of value to the audience.

A slick speaker has a routine that he uses to dazzle his audience, and seems more interested in wowing than connecting.

I’m not saying that style is unimportant.  But the style of a speaker should suit the topic and the occasion.  A style that draws attention to itself, or is out of sync with the content, undermines the credibility of the speaker and creates a gap between speaker and audience.

Most of us live at a safe distance from the polished to slick border line.  But as we get more skilled and confident, let us beware of the danger. 

Audiences crave intimacy with a speaker.  Slickness turns them off.

Sims Wyeth is a private speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in executive speech coaching and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

Thank Your Wife

My father and I graduated from the same high school, 25 years apart. This past weekend we went to our reunion and watched as one of Dad’s classmates won the lifetime achievement award for his work in cancer research.

The winner was a distinguished gent, a good friend of my father, and a slow, but charming speaker. He told funny stories of his time at the school, and only at the end did he mention his work.

I happen to know, thanks to Dad, that the prize winner’s wife has been a a tower of strength over the years, but he never mentioned her as he recounted the story of his career. There she was, sitting in the front row, but not a single acknowledgment came her way.

The speech was largely well-received, and I certainly enjoyed the stories, but it would have been even better if it had included a gracious and loving tip of the hat to his spouse of sixty-odd years.

Such a remark would have alerted the audience that she was present in the hall, and would have made the remarkable accomplishments of the speaker’s professional life even more salient by drawing attention to his personal graciousness and private character.

“Every word uttered evokes the idea of its opposite,” said Goethe. This is true because no single statement can summarize the totality of a person, object, idea or event.

For instance, if I say, “President Obama is a great public speaker,” my listener might be thinking, “Yeah, but…” and then come out with, “He says ‘er’ and ‘uhm’ too much in interviews.”

At that point, I am stuck with rephrasing my original assertion, because I was talking about my impression of the President speaking at formal occasions.

I would have done better to say, “The President is a great public speaker on formal occasions, although he ‘ers’ and ‘uhms’ too much in interviews.”

If I’d said that, then I would have been able to talk about the President’s accomplishments as a platform speaker without having to defend my incomplete assertion.

Furthermore, I would have demonstrated that I had thought about the pros and cons of the President’s speaking style, and would therefore have earned more credibility with my listeners.

It pays to say what you have to say, and also say what you’re not saying.