Want To Show How Intelligent You Are?

Perhaps it's because my body doesn't know what time zone it's in, but one thing has been sticking in my craw since I got back to Chicago. I've sat in a dozen workshops and meetings over the past few weeks, and among all of the presentations, one element was consistent.

Of the time allotted to them, many presenters filled up the agenda with themselves – I call it “ME” time – leaving little room for Q&A and/or keeping audience interaction to a minimum. These meetings looked like Drawing A.  

In contrast, a few presenters chose to use the agenda to get their organised points across quickly, spending the remaining time with key people discussing and debating the recommendations. These meetings looked like Drawing B. 

I understand why the A people chose to facilitate the meeting the way they did. They wanted to get the maximum amount of information across to their audience, to show how much they knew their topic or recommendation, to show they were thorough and comprehensive.

Afterwards, when I asked why, the reasons were various. One said they reported to someone who was anal-retentive and controlling. Meetings were meant to agree on decisions: instead, they turned into opportunities for their boss to micro-manage information. Others realised they were justifying their employment or position in uncertain economic times. Most admitted that the idea of editing their thoughts never occurred to them.

Ironic, isn’t it? What they ultimately wanted to achieve (to show value, get promoted, keep their job) was in direct opposition of what they actually did in their PowerPoint presentations.

I applaud the B people who elected to facilitate their meeting differently. They chose to convey their recommendations in messages which were clear, succinct or prioritised. They’d learnt that distilling a sea of information down to its essential points demonstrates as much (if not more) command of the topic as filling up a slide up with charts, graphs and detail. Their response to the anal retentive boss was to show they could differentiate between strategic data and minutiae. Their response to a tenuous position was to show their efficiency and effectiveness.

Earlier this year, this point was brought to vivid display when I was helping two people – equal of position – prepare a presentation to their supervisors on corporate governance in the UK. The first person selected a slide with many scans of the document covers he’d read over the past 12 months, and then proceeded to tell us what each and every document said. The second person chose a photo of the document pile on her desk, and then said, “You don’t need to read all of these documents, I already did … and here’s the three things that we need to know to make the best decision.” If you were the supervisor – anal or not – which would you think is more qualified? (The woman’s argument to her supervisor always reminds me of a line from my Grandmother: “Spare me the details. Just give me enough information to be dangerous.”)

Again, isn’t it ironic? The person whom we most often define as “smart” is the person who takes a complex subject and makes it simple. It’s not the person who takes a complex subject and makes it more complex. To me, that’s the difference between B people and A people.

This is why I suggest to presenters that the Q&A section of the meeting should be the largest section of the agenda, not the smallest. The most engaging and dynamic part of the meeting is the interaction between presenter and audience, not the reading of the information to the audience (who can read it faster than the presenter can say it). I’d argue that no one – ever – has demonstrated their grasp of a situation by reading a slide. Do you want to show us your command of the topic? Then tell us what the slide means.

Do you want to show how intelligent you are in a meeting, PowerPoint slide or not? You can demonstrate your intelligence and insight when you allow us (the audience) to watch you think on your feet. It shows you trust what you know.

In other words, if you can’t trust your brain, why should we?