It was the question asked on a LinkedIn group board: Why are experts such lousy speakers?
As the professional speaking side of my business is booming, one of the points Shelley in our office is hearing constantly from our clients and prospects is: “We have tried booking less expensive ‘industry experts’ to address our conferences, and we are now returning to invest in a speaking professional, because our meetings have become so dull and uninspiring.”
(Don’t get me wrong — there are drab professional speeches and exciting industry experts. It just doesn’t seem to be the norm in the marketplace.)
However, this is much more than about platform presentations. It’s about what the elements are of any distinctive endeavor. And, it’s about how we choose to live our lives.
My friend, Mike Cane has an absolutely fabulous post entitled, “10,000 Hours For Expertise, Maybe, But Not Artistry.” In it, Mike illuminates something most of us may have missed.
We remember Malcolm Gladwell’s famed quote about the necessity of putting in your “10,000 hours” in order to gain expertise and success in your chosen field at a distinctive level. However, as Mike points out, “People forget something else Gladwell wrote that thoroughly shoots down that facile, misleading, and dangerous notion.”
As Mike writes, “Let’s say it’s true that ten thousand hours can make someone proficient at some skill. What it does not guarantee is being an original. (emphasis mine)
Distinction is discovered in both extraordinary delivery and in extraordinary artistry. By that, I mean your products and services must be delivered (which includes design, manufacture, sales, customer service, and more) in an extraordinary manner to become distinctive. However, that alone is usually not enough. There must be an element of creative artistry to truly stand above all others.
And, putting in your 10,000 hours does not guarantee artistry. Rather, it defines the commitment required for expertise.
One post on Twitter suggested the first version of this post had a “vague definition” of artistry. And, it was right. To keep my word count reasonable, I intentionally didn’t delve into it — however, here’s a thought or two on the subject:
Every definition I have found states “artistry” is the “ability, quality, or workmanship” of the artist.
To determine one’s “expertise,” there are objective, reasonable standards possible to employ. In other words, if you don’t know about Net Promoter Scores, for example, I would question the depth of your expertise regarding customer loyalty. It’s measurable; either you know it, or you don’t.
To define “artistry” is infinitely more subjective. I’m not a fan of Jay-Z’s work, for example. Doesn’t make my opinion correct; it just means we can’t agree on the quality of output of a particular artist.
However, the role of any artist is to engage an emotional response from the audience. That response can vary — some make us laugh, others make us angry; some make us cry; others make us take action — however, all artistry should stimulate or provoke a response.
When a presentation delivers information — expertise — yet, provokes little to no response on an emotional level from the audience — artistry — then, to me, the speech has failed to fully covey what a listener (and the organization booking the engagement) has a right to expect the presenter to deliver.
Of course, the inverse question could be asked, as well: Why are speakers such lousy experts?
I was honored that a person I met while speaking for home improvement giant Do It Best stores, Tom Watson, sent along a terrific blog post by Cal Newport on performer Steve Martin. The title: “Closing Your Interests Opens More Interesting Opportunities: The Power of Diligence in Creating a Remarkable Life.”
In the post, Newport relates the dedication Martin brought to learning the banjo — and comedy. “He spent decades focused intensely on his act, which meant two things: banjo and jokes. If you collapse Martin’s skills into a flat list, he sounds like a Renaissance man, but if you take a snapshot of any particular point of his life, you’ll encounter relentless, longterm focus on a very small number of things.”
As I wrote in “Collapse of Distinction,” clarity is extraordinarily difficult for organizations and professionals — not because it’s so tough to choose what you want to be (although it is difficult) — what’s even tougher is to select what you will refuse to become. What will you NOT do to achieve what you desire?
On a personal note, for me it meant two things: I would focus on speaking…and, even from my teens, turned down chances to do many other things — from jobs to fun trips — because it would take me away from my solitary focus. And, second, I would focus on one subject: distinction. I used to speak on everything from stress management to reading balance sheets — now, I focus on ONE area; how to be distinctive.
(What does it take to be a distinctive company? How do you become a distinctive leader? Why do few people become distinctive professionals? The subject absolutely fascinates me!)
Speakers often make lousy experts because they may attempt to deliver emotional and charismatic performances upon a subject about which they have little expertise.
Experts often make lousy speakers because they fail to understand that knowledge isn’t the solitary factor required for audience engagement. They miss the critical element of artistry — which isn’t an outcome of the 10,000 hours they’ve put into their subject matter.
However, when you bond expertise and artistry — the audience will receive an experience both intellectually illuminating and individually inspiring.
It can become a moment in time that initiates momentum in life.
Why are “experts” such lousy speakers?
February 7, 2012 · 2 comments
It was the question asked on a LinkedIn group board: Why are experts such lousy speakers?
As the professional speaking side of my business is booming, one of the points Shelley in our office is hearing constantly from our clients and prospects is: “We have tried booking less expensive ‘industry experts’ to address our conferences, and we are now returning to invest in a speaking professional, because our meetings have become so dull and uninspiring.”
(Don’t get me wrong — there are drab professional speeches and exciting industry experts. It just doesn’t seem to be the norm in the marketplace.)
My friend, Mike Cane has an absolutely fabulous post entitled, “10,000 Hours For Expertise, Maybe, But Not Artistry.” In it, Mike illuminates something most of us may have missed.
Distinction is discovered in both extraordinary delivery and in extraordinary artistry. By that, I mean your products and services must be delivered (which includes design, manufacture, sales, customer service, and more) in an extraordinary manner to become distinctive. However, that alone is usually not enough. There must be an element of creative artistry to truly stand above all others.
One post on Twitter suggested the first version of this post had a “vague definition” of artistry. And, it was right. To keep my word count reasonable, I intentionally didn’t delve into it — however, here’s a thought or two on the subject:
Every definition I have found states “artistry” is the “ability, quality, or workmanship” of the artist.
To determine one’s “expertise,” there are objective, reasonable standards possible to employ. In other words, if you don’t know about Net Promoter Scores, for example, I would question the depth of your expertise regarding customer loyalty. It’s measurable; either you know it, or you don’t.
To define “artistry” is infinitely more subjective. I’m not a fan of Jay-Z’s work, for example. Doesn’t make my opinion correct; it just means we can’t agree on the quality of output of a particular artist.
However, the role of any artist is to engage an emotional response from the audience. That response can vary — some make us laugh, others make us angry; some make us cry; others make us take action — however, all artistry should stimulate or provoke a response.
When a presentation delivers information — expertise — yet, provokes little to no response on an emotional level from the audience — artistry — then, to me, the speech has failed to fully covey what a listener (and the organization booking the engagement) has a right to expect the presenter to deliver.
Of course, the inverse question could be asked, as well: Why are speakers such lousy experts?
I was honored that a person I met while speaking for home improvement giant Do It Best stores, Tom Watson, sent along a terrific blog post by Cal Newport on performer Steve Martin. The title: “Closing Your Interests Opens More Interesting Opportunities: The Power of Diligence in Creating a Remarkable Life.”
As I wrote in “Collapse of Distinction,” clarity is extraordinarily difficult for organizations and professionals — not because it’s so tough to choose what you want to be (although it is difficult) — what’s even tougher is to select what you will refuse to become. What will you NOT do to achieve what you desire?
On a personal note, for me it meant two things: I would focus on speaking…and, even from my teens, turned down chances to do many other things — from jobs to fun trips — because it would take me away from my solitary focus. And, second, I would focus on one subject: distinction. I used to speak on everything from stress management to reading balance sheets — now, I focus on ONE area; how to be distinctive.
(What does it take to be a distinctive company? How do you become a distinctive leader? Why do few people become distinctive professionals? The subject absolutely fascinates me!)
Speakers often make lousy experts because they may attempt to deliver emotional and charismatic performances upon a subject about which they have little expertise.
Experts often make lousy speakers because they fail to understand that knowledge isn’t the solitary factor required for audience engagement. They miss the critical element of artistry — which isn’t an outcome of the 10,000 hours they’ve put into their subject matter.
It can become a moment in time that initiates momentum in life.