Presentation Zen: Simple Ideas on Presentation Design and Delivery, 2nd Edition (Ira Katz's Library) (29 page)

(Photo: Justin Sullivan/iStockphoto.com.)

As noted in
Chapter 5
, Steve Jobs had a simple yet remarkable approach to the art of presentation. His slides, for example, were always devoid of clutter and highly visual, and he used them smoothly and seamlessly, advancing all slides and effects by himself without ever drawing attention to the fact that he was the one advancing the slides. His style was conversational, and his visuals were in perfect sync with his words. His presentations were built on a solid structure, which gave them an easy feeling of flow as if he were taking us on a small journey. On stage he seemed friendly, comfortable, and confident (which make others feel relaxed too), and he exuded a level of passion and enthusiasm that was engaging without being over the top.

It all seemed so automatic and natural. It all seemed so easy that you’d be tempted to think it just came naturally to Steve, and that it was a pretty easy task for him to use his natural charisma to woo a crowd. But you’d be wrong. While it is true that Steve Jobs was a charismatic figure, I’m not sure giving presentations with multimedia support, and even giving live demos (how many executives do that?), comes naturally to anyone. No, the reason Steve Jobs’s presentations went so well and were so engaging was because he and his team prepared and practiced like mad to make sure it looked “easy.”

When Steve was on stage he was an artist. And like any artist, through practice and experience, he perfected his technique and form. Yet, also like a trained artist, there was no thought of technique or of form, or even of failure or success while performing the art of presentation. Once we think of failure or success, we are like the swordsman whose mind stops, ever so briefly, to ponder his technique or the outcome of the fight. The moment he does, he has lost. This sounds paradoxical, but once we allow our minds to drift to thoughts of success and failure or of outcomes and technique while performing our art, we have at that moment begun our descent. Steve Jobs’s approach to presentation reminds us today that engagement can be enhanced by being nowhere else but completely here in the moment.

To see videos of presentations by Steve Jobs, go to the Apple website:
www.apple.com/apple-events

When a swordsman is in the moment and his mind is empty (
mushin no shin
or the “mind that is no mind”), there are no emotions stemming from fear and no thoughts of winning, losing, or even using the sword. In this way, says Daisetz T. Suzuki in
Zen and Japanese Culture
(Princeton University Press), “both man and sword turn into instruments in the hands of the unconscious, and it is the unconscious that achieves wonders of creativity. It is here that swordplay becomes an art.”

Beyond mastering technique, the secret to swordsmanship rests in obtaining a proper mental state of “no mind” where the mind is “abandoned and yet not abandoned.” Frankly, if you are engaged in any art or even a sports match, you must get rid of the obtruding self-consciousness or ego-consciousness and apply yourself completely. As Suzuki says, it must be “as if nothing particular were taking place at the moment.” When you perform in a state of “no mind,” you are free from the burdens of inhibitions and doubt and can contribute fully and fluidly in the moment. Artists know this state of mind, as do musicians and highly trained athletes.

The highly anticipated presentations that Steve Jobs did came with a lot of pressure to get it right. A lot was riding on each presentation and expectations were high inside and outside of Apple. Yet what made Steve so effective in these situations was his ability to seemingly forget the seriousness of the situation and just perform. In this way, he was like the artful swordsman who, through his “immovable mind,” has no thought of life or death. The mind has been quieted, and the man is free to be fully present. As Suzuki puts it: “The waters are in motion all the time, but the moon retains its serenity. The mind moves in response to ten thousand situations but remains ever the same.”

Technical training is important, but technical training is something acquired and will always have the feel of artificiality unless one has the proper state of mind. “Unless the mind which avails itself of the technical skill somehow attunes itself to a state of the utmost fluidity or mobility,” says Suzuki, “anything acquired or superimposed lacks spontaneity of natural growth.” In this sense, I think instructors and books can help us become better at presenting, but ultimately, like many other performance arts, it must grow within us.

You need technique and proper form, and you need to know “the rules.” You must practice and then practice some more. When you put in the hard work in the preparation phase and internalize the material, you can perform the art of presentation in a way that is more natural by obtaining the proper state of mind—that is, “no mind.”

Have you ever been lost in the moment while presenting or performing? I do not mean lost as in losing your place. I mean being so in the moment—without worry of the past or future—that you are as demonstrably interested in your topic as your audience has become. This is a true connection.

In
If You Want to Write
, Brenda Ueland speaks of the importance of being in the moment to maximize your creativity and impact on an audience. Harnessing this creative energy and being fully present is more of an intuitive activity, not an intellectual one. Brenda compares this kind of creativity and connection to a wonderful musical performance.

In playing a musical instrument such as a piano, for example, sometimes you play at it and sometimes you play in it. The goal is not to repeat the notes on the page, but to play beautiful music. To be
in it
, not separate from it. Great musicians play in it (even if they are not always technically perfect). The same thing holds for presentations. The aim should be to be in it completely at that moment in time. Perfect technique is perhaps not obtainable (or even desirable), but a kind of perfect connection can exist between the audience and artist (or presenter) when she “plays in it.”

“Only when you play in a thing,” Brenda says, “do people listen and hear you and are moved.” Your music is believable and authentic because you are “lost in it,” not intellectualizing it or following a set of prescribed rules (notes, instructions). We are moved because the artist is clearly and authentically moved as well. Can this not hold true for presentations? Your presentation is believable because you are prepared and logical, but also because you too are moved by your topic. You have to believe in your message completely or no one else will. You must believe in your story fully and be “lost in the moment” of engaging your audience.

“The waters are in motion all the time, but the moon retains its serenity. The mind moves in response to ten thousand situations but remains ever the same.”

—Daisetz T. Suzuki

You can find the best presentation advice in unusual places. Consider the following five principles, for example. These precepts offer good advice for delivering effective presentations:

1.
Carefully observe oneself and one’s situation, carefully observe others, and carefully observe one’s environment.

2.
Seize the initiative in whatever you undertake.

3.
Consider fully, act decisively.

4.
Know when to stop.

5.
Keep to the middle.

These are wise words indeed, but they are not actually “effective presentation principles.” They are Jigoro Kano’s Five Principles of Judo as outlined by John Stevens in
Budo Secrets
(Shambhala, New Ed edition). Yet, it is easy to see how these principles can be applied in your efforts to design and deliver presentations. For example, you may have witnessed a presentation in which the speaker could have done much better if he had only embraced the wisdom of principle No. 4—know when to stop. At times, you may speak for a longer or shorter time than planned, but it must be a conscious decision based on the context of the moment and by following principle No. 1—observing oneself, the situation, others, and the environment. These are just two examples illustrating the application of such principles.

Jigoro Kano founded judo in the late 1800s in Japan. While it is not based on the principles of Zen outright, judo is seen by many to be a great expression of Zen concepts. I have a mountain of respect for people who dedicate themselves to the art of judo. Judo is more than a sport or mere physical activity. To those who practice it, the lessons, wisdom, and experience gained serve to help them in profound ways in all aspects of life.

Commenting on the secrets of judo, H. Seichiro Okazaki said: “Only by cultivating a receptive state of mind, without preconceived ideas or thoughts, can one master the secret art of reacting spontaneously and naturally without hesitation and without purposeless resistance.” This idea need not be confined to the judo mat. Think about the last challenging presentation you made that did not go as well as you had hoped. Perhaps there was more “pushback”
than you expected. Could you have done better by engaging your audience and answering the difficult questions while “reacting spontaneously and naturally without hesitation and without purposeless resistance?” In my experience, when I have received challenging questions from a skeptical or even hostile or aggressive person, a natural, nonaggressive response from myself always proves more effective than showing irritation or defensiveness. Butting heads is very easy to do, but it usually leads to a sure defeat for the presenter.

At some point, you will encounter a hostile client or an audience member who may be more interested in making you look foolish or derailing your talk than getting at the truth. It happens. The key is to remember that they are never the enemy. If there is an enemy at all, it is within us. Even if an audience member does choose to assume the role of “opponent,” your irritation or display of anger will surely not do you or the rest of your audience—90 percent of whom may support your views—any good.

In the world of judo, founder Jigoro Kano had this to say about dealing with an opponent: “Victory over the opponent is achieved by giving way to the strength of the opponent, adapting to it and taking advantage of it, turning it in the end to your own advantage.”

Many years ago I was giving a presentation to a large group. It was going very well, but one person in the audience often interrupted with irrelevant comments to the point of becoming a distraction for the audience. I had many occasions to become angry, but did not. I could sense that the audience believed I was going to rip into the guy if there was one more interruption. And frankly, they would not have blamed me. But I remained respectful of the man and did not show any irritation or anger, nor did I allow his interruptions to derail the talk. After the presentation, several people complimented me on my handling of the “interrupter.” The ironic thing was that while the boisterous man may have intended to damage my effectiveness, he actually had the opposite influence. By flowing with the moment, showing self-control, and not butting heads with him—which only would have made things worse—I gained respect from the audience.

Every presentation is a performance, and Ben Zander knows a thing or two about the art of performance. You may know Ben Zander as the talented conductor for the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra, but he is also one of the truly gifted presenters of our time. He’s so good, in fact, so inspiring and so informative, that he could spend all his time just talking to companies and organizations about leadership and transformation.

As Dan Pink and I were riding the train back to central Osaka in the spring of 2007, he tipped me off to Ben Zander. There are a lot of good presenters, Dan said, but Ben Zander is in another league. That same day, I purchased
The Art of Possibility: Transforming Professional and Personal Life
(Penguin) by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander, and I was inspired. Dan’s suggestion to check out Ben Zander as a speaker/presenter was the best tip I had received in a long time. Ironically, the next month I presented for a Fortune 500 company and found that every single person in the room was well-versed in Zanders’s teachings and their simple advice had a powerful effect within the company.