Presentation Zen [58]
The art of musical performance and the art of presentation share the same essence. That is, it’s always about bridging the distance between artist and audience to make a real connection. If there’s no connection, there can be no conversation. This is true whether you’re pitching a new technology, explaining a new medical treatment, or playing at Carnegie Hall.
To Tom Grant, performance is not an exhibition—I perform, you listen. Tom clearly feels it’s a two-way encounter. Here’s what Tom said in an interview in Smooth Vibes in 2005:
“There is joy in music for the player and for the receiver. I play music because it is my calling in life. I hope it conveys a joy and benevolence that people can apply to their own lives and thus improve, if only in the tiniest way, the quality of life on earth.”
Are not presentations about the player (presenter) and the receiver (audience)? A good tip to always remember: It’s not about us, it’s about them. And about the message.
Hara Hachi Bu: Why Length Matters
A consequence of Zen practice is increased attentiveness to the present, a calmness, and a good ability to focus on the here and now. However, for your average audience member, it is a safe bet that he is not completely “calm” or completely present in the “here and now,” but is instead processing many emotional opinions and juggling several issues at the moment—both professional and personal—while doing his best to listen to you. We all struggle with this. It is virtually impossible for our audience to concentrate completely on what we are saying, even for shorter presentations. Many studies show that concentration really takes a hit after 15-20 minutes. My experience tells me it’s less than that. For example, CEOs have notoriously short attention spans while listening to a presentation. So the length of your presentation matters.
Every case is different, but generally, shorter is better. But why then do so many presenters go past their allotted time, or milk a presentation to stretch it out to the allotted time, even when it seems that the points have pretty much been made? This is probably a result of much of our education. I can still hear my college philosophy professor saying before the two-hour in-class written exam: “Remember, more is better.” As students, we grow up in an atmosphere that perpetuates the idea that a 20-page paper will likely get a higher grade than a 10-page paper, and a one-hour presentation with 25 PowerPoint slides filled with 12pt lines of text shows more hard work than a 30-minute presentation with 50 highly visual slides. This “old school” thinking does not take into account the creativity, intellect, and forethought that it takes to achieve a clarity of ideas. We take this “more is better” thinking with us into our professional lives.
One Secret to a Healthy Life (and a Great Presentation)
The Japanese have a great expression concerning healthy eating habits: hara hachi bu which means “eat until 80 percent full.” This is excellent advice, and it’s pretty easy to follow this principle in Japan since portions are generally much smaller than in places like the U.S. Using chopsticks also makes it easier to avoid shoveling food in and encourages a bit of a slower pace. This principle does not encourage wastefulness; it does not mean to leave 20 percent of your meal on the plate. In fact, it is bad form to leave food on your plate. In Japan, and in Asia in general, we usually order as a group and then take only what we need from the shared bounty in front of us. I have found—ironically perhaps—that if I stop eating before getting full I am more satisfied with the meal, I’m not sleepy after lunch or dinner, and I just generally feel much better.
Hara hachi bu is also a principle that can be applied to the length of speeches, presentations, and even meetings. My advice is this: