An explain article

I must disappoint you. This article is not about undead pirates. But instead, we address a similar topic: PowerPoint zombies. Who hasn't suffered through it themselves, the so-called “Death by PowerPoint”? The systematic killing of our brain cells on their journey through diagram deserts, empty phrases, and far too much information?

“No one ever complains about a speech being too short!”, once said Ira Hayes.

And he spoke from our soul. But anyone who has ever created a presentation knows how difficult it can be to keep it short. To distinguish the important content from the unimportant. At least, if you, like me, have a healthy dose of conscientiousness, the demand for depth of expertise and a love for detail. Love is known to be blind. And the love for informational content can blind us to the right measure and to the interest of our counterpart. I like to call this state the “Curse of Meticulousness”. In the (almost) eponymous film “Pirates of the Caribbean” by producer Jerry Bruckheimer, former pirate captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) and the governor's daughter Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley) are stranded on a deserted island in the Caribbean. To Captain Sparrow's great joy, there is the abandoned camp of former rum smugglers here. Thanks to the remaining (high-proof) supplies, a long night of drinking ensues. The next morning, Sparrow wakes up to the pungent smell of smoke. Horrified, he sees Elizabeth throwing the last barrel of rum into a huge fire, where it goes up in flames with a flourish. She has piled up and ignited all the island's supplies.

The following discussion is iconic for the film:

Captain Jack Sparrow: NO! Not good! Stop! Not good! What are you doing? You burned all the food, the shade … THE RUM!

Elizabeth Swann: Yes, the rum is gone. Captain

Jack Sparrow: Why is the rum gone?

Elizabeth Swann: One: Because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two: Because that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me, do you think there is even the slightest chance they won‘t see it?

Captain Jack Sparrow: But why is the rum gone?

We cursed "meticulous" people love the information content of our presentation as much as Jack Sparrow loves his rum. Burning any of it? That's absolutely unimaginable. It just feels wrong. But we should do it anyway. And there are good reasons for that.

ONE: Because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels

As creators of our own presentation, we are responsible for the content. We are in charge of designing the medium (usually PowerPoint) or we commission it. We prepare for the big appearance. And then we are the ones who bravely step into the spotlight, into the center of attention, and speak to the audience. All this makes it easy to overlook an important point: Nobody likes presenters whose most important point of reference in the room is themselves.

The hero of our presentation is not us. It is the audience.

Ultimately, we give our presentation because we hope to gain something from the target audience. A purchase agreement, attention, sponsorship, motivation and self-drive for the new corporate strategy, and so on. We want to deliver a message. It is important to us that it is seen and understood. In short: We are the ones who want something from our target audience — not the other way around. Why should the audience change its mind for us? Invest energy in a new strategy? Why should it rescue our message from its lonely Caribbean island, take it on board, and keep it alive?

As speakers, we are under pressure. Therefore, we should be aware of what interests the target audience and what we can offer them. Why they should even bother listening to us.

Maybe you are one of those highly charismatic people who love the spotlight. Who are able to turn even boring topics into a party hit. But, hand on heart — no matter how charming, talented, or practiced you may be — does the audience really benefit from knowing about your thirteenth location?

We may be fascinated by the role of the sensorimotor cortex in the success of hypnotherapy — if our counterpart does not share our love for neuropsychology, they will not follow us into the depths of brain research. They will sink deeper into the chair with a heavy sigh and switch to autopilot for the rest of the lecture. Indulging in the rum like a pickled raisin — that can be a nice thing.

Especially in like-minded company. However, being the only one to get drunk in front of a room full of stone-cold sober people — that is rather unpleasant. And it's unpleasant for everyone involved. The same goes for the information content of a presentation.

If information is our rum, then we are the bartender of our audience. And it is up to us how tasty the presentation will be. So what do you want to serve?

TWO: Because that signal is over a thousand feet high.

When preparing presentation content, it's primarily one question that keeps us "meticulous" people awake at night: "Did I really forget nothing?"

Then there was that little fun fact that was really entertaining. And the founder's story is, of course, absolute basic knowledge. How could we overlook it? Maybe we should give an even deeper insight into the individual business areas? Otherwise, you don't really understand what we're actually doing...

The topic of the presentation grabs us. It is so interesting and diverse that we don't even know where to start. And certainly not where to stop. That's why we precautiously copy everything onto our slides that might somehow be relevant. After all, we don't want important info to be lost. And anyway: It might interest someone.

Fascinatingly, we achieve exactly the opposite. The viewer can't see the wood for the trees. Our core message miserably drowns in the flood of information. It is not even seen by the audience and probably can never be rescued from its lonely island. And what adds to that: We become boring. At the latest after the third organizational chart, no one loves us anymore.

Even if the audience were really nice, even if they would hang on our every word regardless of the input—no one can remember all that. The human brain simply has its limits.

Figuratively speaking: When the Royal Navy (the audience) docks at our island to pick up the message, they usually don't have an empty cargo hold and they have a relatively short temper.

Sometimes we therefore have to burn the rum so that the information fits on the ship. But also, so that our message is seen at all.

And the higher the altitude of our presentation is supposed to be, the higher the flame must be. The more rum must fall victim to the fire. As much as it pains the Jack Sparrow in us. And let's be honest: Jack Sparrow is definitely the face of the film, but his judgment is sometimes somewhat questionable. Especially in relation to rum. The Elizabeth Swann in us, on the other hand, knows exactly what message she wants to convey. And she knows exactly what she has to burn for it. She is therefore exactly the right person for this job.

Maybe we'll overcome our inner Jack Sparrow and find the Elizabeth in ourselves. For example, it can help to speak the content out loud. We often only stumble over nested sentences, unnecessary jargon, and confused arguments on the soundtrack. Sometimes it is also helpful to get a second opinion. For example, from a colleague or business partner. A person who has a similar level of knowledge as the target audience is suitable for checking the right altitude.

In many cases, this is a layperson or someone with only basic knowledge. In dialogue with this person, it usually quickly becomes clear how understandable your content really is to the outside. So, we should only get drunk if the others are merrily drinking along. Are they, for example, at a trade fair?

Then indulge. Otherwise, we should make sure that we don't overdo it with the depth of information. Even if it hurts. Be a gentleman, or a lady—don't get drunk on stage. And please don't drink your audience under the table.

It's not easy to say goodbye to rum. But it's worth it. Just like in "Pirates of the Caribbean," shortly after the discussion, the sails of the Royal Navy appear on the horizon, you will be rewarded with your audience's attention instead of PowerPoint zombies. And from personal experience, I can tell you: It gets a little easier each time.