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Taking a Talk

It’s called “giving a talk” but let’s face it:

Many speakers show up to take

… our time
… our attention
… our money
… our vote
… our applause
… our approval

Which leads to many of the awkward situations we encounter in speeches and presentations:

The presenter who brags about their accolades while we couldn’t care less and wonder when they will start getting to the point.

The speaker who puts the spotlight on themselves while we’re left wondering what their story actually means for us.

The salesman who praises their offer while we wonder if they will ever bother to ask a question about what we actually need.

The irony, of course, is that it’s the other way around:
The more they give, the more we might be willing to give in return.

A Superpower

Almost nothing is important.
And yet, the Universe is on a mission to make us believe it was.

If you’re leading an organization, you’re bombarded with tons of information and decisions and each one of ’em likes to suggest that it’s rather important.

But from a distance, in that huge pile of stuff, most things aren’t that big a deal. Don’t you agree?

That email? It can wait.
That third bullet point on slide 15? Nobody would have missed it.
That new study that’s all over social media? It’s not even relevant to our scale.

To say it straight: Most things are utterly unimportant.

Treating them as if they were important distracts not only you but the whole team from what really matters.

I think that’s one of the main aspects of lighting the path. To arrive at a clear (and joint) understanding of what’s truly important and what’s not.

So that you can focus on the former and keep the latter from distracting you.

Once you become used to it, it can become hard to bear it when people obsess over unimportant stuff.

Now, this may sound like you wouldn’t care for the details and only the big picture. But I think it’s the opposite.

When the detail matters, you deeply care for getting them right. It’s going to make a huge difference.

But if you let the details of stuff that doesn’t even matter distract you, well it’s going to hold your team back from making a difference.

The Unlikely Speaker Rockstar

You don’t enjoy public speaking?
Well, many great speakers don’t, either!

This observation often surprises people. In both camps.

A friend of mine was baffled to learn that his peers considered him a truly gifted speaker – baffled because he didn’t enjoy the spotlight of a stage much and, as a consequence, thought he wasn’t good at it.

This scenario is more common than you might think. Some of the most compelling speakers are anything but seeking the spotlight.

Which is precisely why we enjoy their speeches so much.

They don’t show up to show off. They show up because they deeply care for what they do.

In other words, if advancing their cause means standing on a stage, then that’s what they’ll do. And if they do it, then they can just as well make good use of that time. My friend wasn’t chasing applause or trying to dazzle the audience. Instead, he aimed to lead listeners to a moment of clarity and understanding.

And that’s what his audience appreciated: The aha. (Did you ever notice how aha moments often come in silence?)

It’s a common misconception that to excel in public speaking, one must love the spotlight. It’s much more important that you love what you do and care deeply.

Have you met such a person?
Do you yourself enjoy standing on a stage?

Easy

Reminder: The easier you make it for your audience to speak about your idea, the more likely it becomes that they actually do.

It’s not your audience’s job to figure out how to spread your idea.

Gettin’ in the groove

“Good job,” the leader declares as the team meeting disperses.

The team members file out with a quiet that speaks volumes, another routine meeting has ended. Efficient in its execution, but lacking groove.

Groove – that hard to describe feeling that infuses energy and passion into the mundane. The element which turns a group of individuals into a dynamic team that dances to the rhythm of a common beat.

In its place was a mechanical march of agenda items.

The meeting had structure, it had purpose, but it lacked the soulful harmony of groove – the lightness, the drive that turns work into something more.

Contrast this with a different meeting. Imagine a space alive with the buzz of collaboration, where ideas are volleyed with the excitement of a well-played game. The leader in such a meeting is more a conductor than a commander, guiding the rhythm but allowing each member to play their unique part.

In a meeting with groove, the air crackles with the energy of possibility. Team members lean in, not back. They speak not just to relay information, but to contribute to a collective melody. Challenges are met not with resignation, but with the enthusiasm of problem-solvers in their element. And when the meeting concludes, it’s not with the emptiness of a routine farewell, but with the satisfaction of a song well sung, a job well done together.

The contrast is stark – on one hand, a meeting that ticks boxes but leaves spirits untouched; on the other, a gathering that moves beyond mere efficiency to resonate on a deeper, more meaningful level. In the end, it’s just a subtle difference, call it groove or energy or whatever you like, but it made a huge difference.

Efficiency creates relevance, but not always resonance.

In the absence of emotion, even the best-laid plans are just words in a room, echoing without a heart to hear them.

How about you? Have you ever experienced groove in a meeting?

Does it groove?

“I will not be thinking theory.”

Victor Wooten, a famous Jazz bassist, prefers groove over theory. For him, it’s obvious that when it grooves, the theory doesn’t matter.

Which doesn’t mean that Wooten wouldn’t know theory. Quite the opposite. He’s a great teacher who can explain in great detail why the groove grooves and what to do to make something groove.

But for him that theory is not the starting point. It’s a helping hand. Here’s how his quote continues:

“Theory only comes in if there is a problem. If I need it. Theory is a tool. And like riding in a car, the tools are in the trunk. They’re not in the passenger’s seat. I hope I never need the tools.”

Wooten doesn’t create a groove from theory.
He creates it from experience.
He creates it through exploration.

Theory is always there as a fix when he gets stuck.
But it’s not the starting point.

And that’s exactly what’s wrong with executive communication. It’s often formulaic because it relies heavily on the tools in the trunk.

The speeches that have been written by professional speech writers. The jargon that marketing agencies create. The strategy language that consultants have created.

These often originate in the theory.

The rhetorical devices? Eloquent, but often boring.
The fancy names? Cool, but intangible.
The clever structure? Smart, but not exactly exciting.

Which is why they don’t groove.
It’s only theory and no groove.

When you use these tools as a means to an end, it gets the order wrong. You’ll fit the narrative into the devices, rather than finding the device that fits the narrative.

You’ll have an argument that’s sound, but not groovy.

But groove is what creates change. If you want to move your team, your investors, your cusomters, they need to resonate with your words.

Groove creates resonance.
Groove creates movement.

Your unique personality

For much of the last century, management theory was about ironing out human personalities.

It was focused on standardizing processes, reducing variability, and treating human resources as just another cog in the machine.

In order to increase efficiency and predictability, the idea was to minimize the impact of individual human traits and personalities on the work process and create a more uniform and controllable environment.

Of course, from that perspective the best human is no human. Which is why, over time, most of these jobs have been and will continue to be taken over by machines (which increasingly means AI).

That’s probably one of the reasons why we’ve seen a decisive shift in contemporary perspectives that emphasize the value of human creativity, emotional intelligence, and individuality. This shift aligns with a broader recognition that employee well-being and personal development are crucial to organizational success.

Modern management and leadership theories often focus on empowering individuals, fostering innovation, and creating a more human-centric work environment.

It’s built on the belief that while machines and AI can handle many tasks that humans used to perform, there are certain qualities – like empathy, creativity, and moral judgement – that are distinctly human and invaluable in the workplace.

And yet, people are regularly surprised to see some of these categories disappear. What used to be “distinctly human” is suddenly AI territory.

I think that’s because it’s often a lazy argument. We all think we know what “distinctly human” really means, but do you?

Can you articulate it?

In a way that your team sees what it means for them to be distinctly human?

In a way that you and your team can leverage it to make an even bigger impact for your customers?

The irony here is that those who consciously and rigorously tackle those questions, will likely see superior results on both fronts: They can wholeheartedly embrace the human strengths. And they can wholeheartedly embrace AI to replace everything else.

What are your thoughts on what “distinctly human” really means?

A Damn Cool Company

I have the privilege of working with people who love what they do and who are extraordinarily good at what they do.

Most of them are humble, too.

They know that their companies are special, but they also see where they are lacking.

They know where they are superior to the competition, but they also know where they are not.

What they don’t often do is take a moment to appreciate that brilliance. The next leap is always already waiting to be made.

When Oliver Kohl, CEO of Rebional, walked into our session, it was clear that he was leading a brilliant team. He had a strong vision for the company and a team that he deeply believed in. Over the past years, they had established themselves at the forefront of innovation in their field (catering). But they were facing some serious setbacks. After many years of hard work, they needed to make yet another leap.

Oliver wanted to inspire his team to believe in themselves just as much as he did.

After we had laid out the story, something magical happened.

He paused.

And calmly said: “This is such a damn cool company.”

It was a moment of revelation, of seeing beyond the collection of services and strategies that occupy his day-to-day work. He saw that he was not just running a business, but leading a true force of change, innovation, and passion.

That’s the power of trying to find the right words. Some words are precise. Some are eloquent. But the right words are more than that. They also feel right. They are true to who you are.

When he saw in plain sight what he had only felt deep inside, it put a bright smile on his face.

Pride is probably the word that describes it best, an outburst of pride.

Moments like these are what makes my job incredibly rewarding. Watching these leaders swell with pride, seeing their bright smiles, and hearing the excitement in their voices as they talk about their companies is a testament to the power of words. Words that don’t just communicate but connect, resonate, and, most importantly, inspire.

Reach out if you want that, too!

The Simplicity Initiative

Recently at Confused Corp, they launched the ‘Simplicity Initiative’.

In a team meeting, one brave soul asked, “What’s the goal of this initiative?”

The manager, shuffling through a stack of papers, answered, “It’s simple – to reduce complexity.”

As hands shot up with questions, he added, “Don’t worry, there’s a 10-part webinar series and a 500-page handbook explaining it all.”

The room groaned in unison, realizing the ‘Simplicity Initiative’ was anything but simple.

Unlocking complexity

Simplicity is not the opposite of complexity. It’s the prerequisite.

Deep inside, complexity is terrified of simplicity. It fears that simplicity would strip away the depth of a complex topic.

But that gets it upside down: it’s through simplicity that we unlock complexity.

Simplicity is the key that opens the door to deeper understanding. Without this entry point, complexity can be an inaccessible fortress.

But simplicity does more. It doesn’t just make complexity accessible; it ignites the curiosity and ambition to enter complexity and go deep into the fortress.

True sophistication in communication means inviting your audience, not excluding them.

Simplicity is that invitation.

It doesn’t make complexity go away.

It’s the key to unlocking complexity so that it feels simple.

It’s a sign of respect for your audience.

Spread the Word

Dr. Michael Gerharz

Dr. Michael Gerharz