Public
speaking, by definition, has been with us as long as spoken language.
Professional
instruction in public speaking as a persuasive tool is slightly newer, but only
slightly. Ancient Egyptians received formal training in speech, and by the 4th
and 3rd centuries B.C.E. it was the default method of conflict resolution in
Athenian Greece.
These
days, we mostly think of speech as the purview of politicians. (Though in our
internet age many politicians are just as likely to use a bullet-point list and
a two-minute press conference to present their agenda.) But the reality is that
any “speech” longer than a few sentences qualifies as a persuasive exercise, as
long as you’re trying to convince someone other than yourself of some point or
perspective.
A sales
presentation in a boardroom is public speaking. So is a lengthy explanation at
the bar of why Hank Aaron was a better hitter than Barry Bonds. (Though if
you’re putting as much preparation into your baseball argument as you are into
your sales pitch, you might need to adjust your priorities!) But the same
fundamentals underlie both situations — and the better you are at them, the
more convincing you’ll be in both cases, whether you’ve done extensive
prep work or are improvising on the fly.
The Three Fundamentals
Hundreds
of thousands of words have been written on the subject of public speaking, but
in this article we’re going to break it down to three fundamentals:
- Focus
- Rhetoric
- Presentation
If you do
your job in those three areas, you’ll probably make a good impression.
All three
fundamentals share a common theme, and it’s the most important piece of advice
we’re going to give you:
All the
fundamentals of public speaking are improved by the groundwork you do ahead of
time.
The more
effort you put in ahead of a speech, the less work you do during
a speech.
Let’s
first look at the anatomy of a good presentation, and then dive into each of
the three pillars in turn.
Anatomy of a Speech
If you
ever had to write “five-paragraph essays” in grade school, congratulations! You
already know how to structure a speech.
That’s a
bit of an oversimplification, but the general framework for the majority of
speeches looks something like this:
- Opening, including a statement of the overall thesis.
- First piece of supporting evidence and your analysis of it.
- Second piece of supporting evidence and your analysis of it.
- Third piece of supporting evidence and your analysis of it.
- Conclusion, summarizing your analysis and re-stating your thesis.
Or in the
famous words of Dale Carnegie: “Tell the audience what you’re going to say, say
it; then tell them what you’ve said.”
If you
watch long speeches, you’ll see that the speakers mostly follow this “five
paragraph” format. Written out, something like the State of the Union address
might be dozens of pages long, but still has an opening and a conclusion, with
three general sections in between: a domestic policy outline, a foreign policy
outline, and a specific agenda of the president’s own priorities.
Three
pieces of evidence is not mandatory. Nor does every “piece” require its own
separate analysis. You might open a section of your speech with a quote, tell
an anecdote, and cite a scientific study, all demonstrating the same basic fact
or theory.
Do make
sure to keep every supporting fact separate. For example, say you’re arguing
for a food service requirement that diners put real cream on the table rather
than non-dairy substitutes. If you’re going to present evidence that the
substitutes are unhealthy, that restaurants with real cream receive higher
tips, and that a stronger dairy industry is good for the state’s economy, each
of those should be clearly separate points, rather than throwing in arguments
on each piece of evidence throughout the whole speech.
As you
get more advanced as a speaker it certainly becomes possible to deviate from
this basic framework. And there are some cases in which it doesn’t work at all
(long first-person narratives told for entertainment rather than persuasion, for
example).
But for
beginners, and for most persuasive situations, be thinking in terms of
“opening, supporting point one, supporting point two, supporting point three,
conclusion.”
Focus
The focus
of a speech is, at its most basic, what the speech is about.
It’s a
little more complicated than that, but not much more. If you know your subject
matter, you’re a long way toward a good speech.
The trick
lies in really knowing your subject matter — not just the topic in
general, but what you want to say about it specifically.
It’s the
case you want to build, and if you know that case inside out, you’ll give a
good speech. If you have a topic you’re speaking on but you haven’t really
thought through your specific arguments, you’re in for a rocky ride.
From Topic to Thesis
Unless
you’re participating in a public speaking club or something similar, you’re not
likely to be asked to give a speech on “any topic.”
Most
public speaking situations are predictable. You have a topic and a goal.
The key
to a good speech is knowing how to go from a topic to a thesis:
- The topic is a general category of interest. “Great baseball sluggers” is a topic; so is “the new model of leak-proof ballpoint pen.” It’s a subject rather than an opinion on said subject.
- The thesis is the specific argument you’re making. It’s a summary of what you want the listener to walk away believing. “Hank Aaron was a better slugger than Barry Bonds” is a thesis. So is “It’s worth the price to upgrade your ballpoint pens.” A good thesis can usually be summarized in a single sentence or short paragraph, which may or may not appear in the text of the speech itself.
The goal
of your speech is to go from a broad topic to a specific thesis. A long,
complicated speech might present several theses; most shorter speeches only
focus on a single overall argument.
Your key
question should always be: “If my speech works, what do people believe after
it’s done?”
You need
to have an answer to that question before you put pen to paper. It’s the litmus
test for your entire composition: words that help make your argument can stay;
words that don’t add to the case get cut.
Knowing
your thesis ahead of time keeps you from meandering around and speaking about
the topic in general. Information about the overall subject might be interesting,
but if it’s not advancing your thesis it’s getting in the way.
The more
specific your thesis, the better you’ll be at using the broader topic to make
your case compellingly. Never confuse the topic for the thesis itself.
Assembling Your Evidence
“Evidence”
has a courtroom sound to it, but in rhetoric (more on that later) it
simply means anything that supports your thesis.
Evidence
is not always factual. A quotation from a famous and inspiring individual
doesn’t actually “prove” anything, in a logical sense, other than that one
person felt a particular way at a specific time. But it can be a compelling
appeal that helps transfer your audience’s affection for a famous person to
your specific cause or goal.
In
general, most evidence breaks down into one of three categories:
- Factual evidence includes statistics, scientifically proven conclusions, statements of historical record, and anything else verifiable as hard fact. It’s powerful because it can’t be directly contradicted, which makes the argument about interpretation instead. However, too much factual evidence starts to sound dry, and if you have many separate data points it becomes harder to make a single argument that accounts for all of them (and leaves no room for other interpretations).
- Anecdotal evidence is a story or stories that support your claim. It doesn’t have the authority of a statistically sound study or proven science, but it can make a more personal appeal. Saying “Over 15,000 children were injured by guns in 2010” is factual evidence, while saying “When I was a child I lost two fingers in a gun accident” is anecdotal. Anecdotal evidence is not as reliable as factual, but can make a more powerful personal appeal to an audience. It’s much easier to relate to than numbers and statistics.
- Expert opinions are neither factual nor anecdotal. Instead, you bring in the words of someone else, with the implication that they have studied the topic in greater depth. Quoting Thomas Jefferson in an argument for a particular bill being passed is a way of suggesting both that Jefferson would have supported the bill and that he was a qualified expert because of his role in early American government. Evidence of this nature doesn’t always stand up to any deep factual analysis, but it helps present your opinion as something shared by qualified experts, rather than merely a product of your personal beliefs.
If
possible, you want a mixture of all three types of evidence in your speech.
If you
don’t have any factual evidence, you may have a tough row to hoe — even when
something is as subjective as who was the “best” slugger, you should still be
able to talk intelligently about batting averages and season lengths, or you’re
going to come across as someone who hasn’t done their homework.
On the
other hand, if all you have is numbers, people are going to perceive you
as a dry know-it-all. The human touch of a personal anecdote or an appeal to an
expert/famous authority helps make your data — and your argument — accessible.
src: http://artofmanliness.com
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