Whatever field you are in, your industry probably has conventions. And, of course, the participants go to learn something. For example, when doctors, dentists, and chiropractors go to their conferences, they want to gain knowledge from other docs. The crucial part of their presentations is the content.
Not so for my own arena, motivational speakers (who smugly prefer the designation “professional speaker”). In addition to the big voices, big mouths, and big egos that circulate at the industry convention, speakers make big judgments about each other. Not so much for content, but for style, stories, and originality. Everyone who speaks in the main auditorium at the National Speakers Association suffers merciless scrutiny from an acre of other loquacious types.
Several years ago, the association invited a celebrity speaker and well-known author of a series of bestselling books to give the keynote address. As soon as the doors opened, hundreds of speakers charged into the crowded ballroom, anxious get a sample of this gentleman’s celebrated oratory.
True to expectation, the speaker kept the crowd spellbound. His energy and enthusiasm were unmatched. His gestures were exciting. He was a top professional in every sense. About fifteen minutes into his speech, he announced, “Here’s a true story.” We couldn’t wait to hear it.
Big-Time Speaker made a grandiose gesture and began:
A powerful battleship is plowing through rough seas on a murky dark night. The captain peers out through the thick fog and perceives another light in the distance.
Some of the speakers looked bewildered because it had the ring of a story we had all heard before.
The captain blinks out an emergency message to warn the other ship. “Emergency! Collision inevitable! Change your course ten degrees to the north!”
By now, audience members were questioning each other in muted whispers. “Isn’t this the old chestnut we’ve all heard?” We assumed it was a joke and he would soon give the punch line.
Our hopes faded further when he continued:
The light in the distance blinks back an answer.
“Emergency! Collision inevitable! You change your course.”
Now the captain of the big battleship gets angry and sends a Morse code message back. “No, you change YOUR course ten degrees to the north!” He frantically notifies the other captain about the size of his vessel, his guns, and the importance of his mission. He tells the other captain he has one option: “YOU MOVE OR GET BLOWN OUT OF THE WATER!”
At this point, disappointed audience members started to dribble out of the ballroom. Mr. Celebrity was telling an old standard speaker’s story—and trying to convince them it was true.
In spite of the diaspora, Big-Time Speaker continued, as animated as ever:
The infuriated captain of the battleship repeats his message and adds, “I am captain of the biggest battleship in the fleet.”
A reply signal came through the fog, “I am a lighthouse.”
This powerful parable usually brings applause from even the toughest audiences when presented as a fable. This time, there was only a gratuitous smattering of clapping.
Had the big-time celebrity speaker prefaced it as a fictional story that made a powerful point, we would have enjoyed hearing it again—especially with his passion, gusto, and electric gestures. We left saddened, however, because we were no longer able to respect this icon. All because of the one sentence he uttered, “Here’s a true story.”
At dinner that night, a group of us was discussing the impact of saying something is a true story. One of our respected colleagues said, “I never use those words—even if it is a true story.”
“Why?” we asked, almost in unison.
“Because it makes everybody think, ‘He’s telling us this story is true. Does that mean the rest of them aren’t?’”
We discussed similar expressions like, “I’ll be honest with you . . .” What does that subconsciously imply to your listeners? It tells them you haven’t been truthful all along. Instead, you have decided, just for this one time, you are going to be honest.
Such phrases as “to tell you the truth” or “frankly speaking” insinuate the same thing. I call them “fibber phrases.”
Little Trick #65
Avoid Fibber Phrases
Sadly, even when the most truthful, trustworthy, decent, and law-abiding citizen uses phrases like “I’ll be honest with you,” and “frankly,” people subconsciously suspect she is lying at other times. After all, why would she tout something as being the truth if everything she said really was? Don’t run the risk of sounding fake. Eliminate fibber phrases.
Younger friends, this next one is for you!