You should do risk/benefit analyses, whether
it is
asking someone out or doing a presentation, says my
good friend and fabulous trainer,
Alison Lester (seen with me in this photo). Here's an
article from Alison that appeared in Straits Times
Recruit section. Alison is a communications coach
and improvisational comedian, and you can find out
more about her by visiting www.ajlestercommunication.com. OK, over
to you Alison ...
THE first time I asked a boy out on a date, I was 16
years old. His name was Scotty Roberts, and I had
loved him since we were both eight. He was very
shy, but he had beautiful brown eyes and I had
heard through the grapevine that he thought I was
pretty.
Standing a little way away down the hall, watching
him get his books out of his locker, I felt ill. My
tongue felt thick, my stomach a whirlpool. But I had
found Scotty Roberts more charming than any other
boy for eight long, silent years, so I stood there and
did a final risk/benefit analysis.
If I asked him out, the risk was he might say no. But
the benefit of his saying no was that I could put
down the torch I had been carrying for him since
before I knew how to do long division.
If I asked him out and he said yes, the benefit was
that I would finally get to know him better. The risk
was that I might find out that I did not really like
him.
Apparently, the benefits outweighed the risks,
possibly because I had said no to lots of boys who
had asked me out, and they seemed to have
survived the ordeal.
My mouth was dry and my heart was beating like a
gorilla against the bars of my rib cage, but my legs
took me over to him and I asked him to the movies.
He said yes.
More than two decades later, I can see the parallel
between the type of high school anxiety I
experienced above, and the communication anxiety
of the modern workplace.
In my work as a communication and presentation
coach, I get the impression that few personal
risk/benefit analyses take place during the average
workday. Certainly courageous business decisions are
being made, but what about courageous personal
decisions?
This is particularly true in the area of presentations,
both to clients and at in-house meetings. So much
emphasis is placed on the facts and figures, and so
little on the delivery.
Why? Because it feels safe to hide behind PowerPoint
slides. Making the choice to entertain and engage
tends to turn the tongue to potato.
Do the analysis. Ask yourself, “If I stand in the dark
and talk in a monotone about my project with lots of
really detailed slides that no one listening really has
the time or the inclination to read, what are the
risks?”
I think you will find there are quite a few. For one,
you are likely to bore your listeners and lose their
attention. By offering a proposal or a product without
your personality, you cannot engage listeners in the
type of lively dialogue that leads to a real working
relationship.
Now ask yourself about the benefits of taking no
personal risks in a presentation. I think you will find
there is only one: You feel more comfortable.
The problem is you feel more comfortable at the
expense of an open connection with your listener.
Take the risk of being truly and deeply
uncomfortable, because protecting your own comfort
level is more risky than trying out a more engaging
style. Holding back is unproductive and the benefits
are so few.
I coached a client who had prepared a very
interesting and intelligent presentation, but who
found it very difficult to smile in the parts where a
smile was clearly called for.
“I’m just not a smiley guy,” he told me.
“So what?” I said. You do not necessarily smile in a
presentation because you feel like smiling. You smile
because it works. It connects you to the listener.
When you limit the emotion you are willing to show,
you risk being judged as humourless, passionless, or
uninspiring.
Do the analysis. If your tendency is always to seek
comfort, let that start making you uncomfortable.
Scotty Roberts and I went out on two or three
dates. He had absolutely no social skills, and thought
it was funny to stick his chewing gum on my face.
But I do not, for a moment, regret asking him out.
