Speak Like a President

How to Inspire and Engage People with Your Words

Simon Maier

• Publisher: A&C Black Business Information and Development
• Year: 2010
• Print ISBN: 9781408125335
• eBook ISBN: 9781408134399
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Business
• Subtopic: Business Communication
• Index: Business

For some people, making presentations of any type can be a trial; others relish the opportunity to speak to others, but are they really inspiring and engaging their audience with what they say, rather than catering to their own ego?

In this book, Simon Maier offers an essential guide to the power of rhetoric and oratory for executives, managers, consultants, sales professionals or anyone, in fact, who needs to get their message across powerfully and convincingly.

Covering key issues such as: understanding what makes a great speaker; how to find your voice; how to choose the best speech style; and pitfalls to avoid, Speak Like a President will help you speak with passion, confidence and influence whatever your topic or audience.

Chapter One

Whatever You Say

“Believe me, it is not failing to speak out with promptitude and energy that is the matter with you; it is having nothing consistent or valuable to say.”

Matthew Arnold (1822–1888)

The greatest presidents—along with a few religious leaders, some politicians, a number of political leaders, and a handful of business chiefs—have tended to be remembered as the greatest speakers. One of the reasons for this (other than media profile) is the sheer quality of writing. While the content of Obama’s books might be a little thin (which actually is perhaps an unfair criticism because they are of course now a fascinating insight), his writing style is congruent with the flowing language of his speeches. Obama takes a close interest in the language and content of what he says in public, and he works with his speechwriters, as of course he should, to ensure that they capture his particular, comfortable style. It isn’t a lazy style, but one which sounds natural and clever. On the whole, we all understand what he is saying and why; we get the emotion and the tone; we anticipate the sentences to come. In his second memoir, The Audacity of Hope, published in 2006, Obama describes his speechmaking capability as a “certain talent for rhetoric,” and his speeches are filled, thrillingly, with the formal rhetoric of the sort that would be recognizable to the likes of Cicero*—in whose time rhetoric, along with grammar and logic, formed one-third of an education. (A fraction of that third right now would be added value indeed within any nation’s educational strategies.) What Obama does on the world’s stages is as old as Aristotle—whose treatise Rhetoric made plain the basics (the rules really) for the art of persuasion four hundred years before the birth of Christ. And it’s with an understanding of rhetoric that we should start.

Rhetoric—The Beginning

Rhetoric, of which oratory is part, is the study of speech composition and delivery. It’s the shaping of the words that you will speak whereas oratory is formal speechmaking. Rhetoric is the study of all available means of teaching and persuading a group of people. According to Plato (in Phaedrus), rhetoric is “the art of winning the soul by discourse.” In overall terms, Plato had it right. Aristotle, in his Rhetoric, defined it this way: “Rhetoric is the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion.” Cicero believed that rhetoric was all about truth. In Tusculanarum Disputationum, he states that, “Our minds possess by nature an insatiable desire to know the truth.” And in his De Inventione, Cicero said, “Rhetoric is one great art comprised of five lesser arts: inventio, dispositio, elocutio, memoria and pronunciatio.” Translated into English these “lesser arts” mean “invention,” “arrangement,” “diction,” “memory,” and “delivery.” Invention was the discovery of the relevant material; arrangement entailed putting the materials together in a structured way; diction was concerned with finding the appropriate style of speech for a particular occasion—grand, middle, or plain (the latter sometimes known as “low”); memory gave guidance on how to remember speeches, much as an actor would do now (and, of course, there’s little difference between an actor or a public speaker on stage); and delivery gave guidance on the techniques of public speaking. One can’t really argue with any of this and it’s as good a guideline to public speaking as any.

Public speaking comes down to personality and belief as much as anything else. Our topic is much less about “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots” and much more about how oratory can work for you and you with it. Quintilian, whose full name was Marcus Fabius Quintilianus, was a Roman rhetorician who reinforced the general view of rhetoric by saying that, “Rhetoric is the art of speaking well.” It’s a simple and direct definition, and perhaps that’s the main element that you must remember, but there’s more to rhetoric than just that. Rhetoric is also about making a point, ensuring that the audience gets the point and that the point then sticks so that it is remembered long afterward. Most scholars (Edwin Black, Kenneth Burke, Stephen Toulmin, George Campbell, Edward Corbett, Robert Connors, Wayne Booth, and even the wonderful Marshall McLuhan, to name but a few) have agreed over time that rhetoric is the persuasive use of language. Persuasion and argument were regarded in Greek and Roman times (and actually up to the twentieth century) as necessary skills. Until the eighteenth century, the study of rhetoric was one of the central disciplines in European universities alongside theology, natural and moral sciences, and law. Persuasion and argument had to be credible, though, to be of any use.

Ethos was the name given by Aristotle to that part of rhetoric that establishes a speaker’s credibility or bona fides. In other words, is he or she someone to whom you should lend an ear? Is there value in what he or she says? Can you trust his or her reputation? Do you like him or her? Is he or she actually worthy of your time? If a CEO or politician was to expect an audience of five hundred to stay put when he or she hadn’t bothered to prepare or rehearse a speech about the future of the company or that of the country, his or her ethos would be zero. And, of course, you don’t need to be a CEO or politician to display errant arrogance or ignorance. The actual argument—the message, the appeal, the logic—is what Aristotle called logos. And pathos was the name given by Aristotle for the manipulation of the audience’s emotions, part of the speech armory often forgotten by speakers these days at all levels in politics and, particularly, in business. Manipulation doesn’t of course have to be a negative. Think of the last speech you heard—any speech—when your emotions were manipulated.

Rhetoric For Today

T. S. Eliot (not always an easy writer to understand, and a reader whose flat, dull renditions of his own work put people off the verse) maintained that the meaning of a poem was something that the poet would use to distract the reader while the poem did its true job upon him or her. The same sort of thing could be said about political or business rhetoric. As rhetoricians from Aristotle down through the ages have recognized, the style and shape of an address are vital to its persuasive force. Much of the work of political (and now business) rhetoric depends on what it sounds like—or, if you want to be technical, how it “scans.” Don’t groan, but it’s much the same as with poetry. Think of the steady, obdurate thump of stresses in Churchill’s wartime mantra of “blood, toil, tears and sweat” or the perfect “music” of the opening line of the main peroration of the American Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident.” It’s a perfectly cadenced iambic pentameter, and it soothes the soul because that’s what iambic pentameters do. Here’s an example from Shakespeare’s prologue to Romeo and Juliet: “Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene…” It does soothe, doesn’t it?

Obama’s winning slogan, “Yes we can,” (about which he was initially unsure and thought far too plain) actually draws much of its strength from its three stressed syllables. It is a metrical object called a molossus—thump, thump, thump; as in Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, “Break, Break, Break” or Seamus Heaney’s “The Squat Pen Rests.” You could, arguably, scan it as an anapest (which goes “diddly DUM”), but Obama doesn’t. The official transcript of his speech at the New Hampshire primary punctuates it like this: “Yes. We. Can.”

The Basics of Speechmaking Are Easy

Truthfully, none of the basics of making a speech are hard. It really is a question of marshaling your argument, your thesis, your proposition—the reason that you’re standing there in front of people. And, much as is the case with any other skill, there are some rules and guidelines that should be followed along with a huge wealth of ideas and examples that can be gleaned from history’s greatest speakers and speeches. For example, repetition, particularly in the form of anaphora (where a phrase is repeated at the beginning of successive lines), is one of the prime oratorical tools and one in which Obama, among others, revels. His speech at the Iowa caucus on January 3, 2008 began: “You know, they said this time would never come. They said our sights were set too high. They said this country was too divided, too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose.” He went on: “I’ll be a president who finally makes healthcare affordable...I’ll be a president who ends the tax breaks...I’ll be a president who harnesses the ingenuity...I’ll be a president who ends this war in Iraq.” Later, his speech used sentences beginning with “This was the moment when...this was the moment when...this was the moment when...” And, as his speech built to its peak, he stated: “Hope is what I saw...Hope is what I heard...Hope is what led a band of colonists to rise up against an empire.” If you know the devices and you’re brave enough to apply them to what you have to say, you’re well on the way to making a good speech, if not yet a great one. And don’t make the mistake of thinking you can’t use devices used by presidents. As long as they’re appropriate, why not?

Politicians everywhere, particularly presidents of the United States, have used such devices for a long time. But, strangely, very few business executives have ever followed suit, and few do. Maybe it’s because business people think that they can make presentations without any rehearsal and little preparation or that speech preparation is not time well spent. Or perhaps it’s because business executives prefer to keep emotion and numbers very separate. Or perhaps there’s an embarrassment in showing too much soul. If so, that’s a great shame because the power of rhetoric is plain. To an American aware of his own country’s history, Obama’s comforting repetitions will bring to mind (probably unconsciously) the Declaration of Independence. Interestingly, the run of charges against King George III in that extraordinary document rolls out in an unstoppable anaphoric fugue. “He has refused...He has forbidden...He has refused...He has called together...He has dissolved...He has refused.” But the acute listener will also hear in Obama’s oratory a deeper and older rhythm, of the psalms in the King James’s version of the Bible. That flows into his language through another level of input well understood by most Americans: The rhetoric of the civil rights movement started in the Baptist churches of the southern United States. There is no shame in borrowing styles—as long as the result isn’t risible. Most of the great speakers borrowed ideas, quotations, styles, and devices from others to make a new whole, to sell an idea, to convert thinking, to bring hope, to tell people something new. You can do it too. Sales figures or politics—it makes no difference. It’s all about convincing people.

Rhetoric and Presidents

It is extraordinary what’s been achieved in the name of communications. What is clear is that in order to convince large numbers of people unequivocally, before the advent of technology, speeches had to be consistent and excellent, clever and witty, humorous where appropriate, certainly fit for the purpose, challenging, carefully considered, and with argument that was plain. More recently, key communicators—politicians, business people, diplomats, those in education, and agitators throughout the world—have felt less of a need to make “the big speech.” Sound bites, they believe, will do. But, actually, sound bites won’t always do. Neither will only a tweet or a text. What is said in great speeches moves people and is remembered long after the balloons have popped or shrunk, long after the wine stain on the floor has dried, and aeons after the cheese-and-cracker crumbs have been vacuumed up. It’s also no surprise to find that most American presidents have shown that oratory and powerful speeches make an enormous difference in persuasive argument. When you have a moment, take a look at Theodore Roosevelt’s inaugural address (1905) and Woodrow Wilson’s first inaugural address of 1913, where he described his New Freedom. Then you might glance at Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s first inaugural address (1933), in which he described his New Deal. These (and others) are premier persuasions. They are speeches not just in form and substance but also in delivery and belief. They lift fears and anxieties. They promote safety and leadership. They convince.

Many presidential speeches have presented beautifully articulated propositions. And it’s any speech’s proposition that is the important ingredient—what you’re saying, why, and what result you want. Woodrow Wilson’s first inaugural not only explained what he wanted and what he meant by progress, but he also explained why such ideals and ambition were important; these things were lacking in early-twentieth-century American politics. FDR, in his first inaugural, explained the New Deal and also conquered the endemic fear that had caused paralysis during the American Depression. JFK’s inaugural called upon Americans to be of service while inspiring civic idealism. The process is much like designing a TV commercial. The proposition has to be crystal clear to the creative team, and the end result (within an average of fifteen or so seconds) has to make that same proposition unequivocally clear to those millions who will watch and hear it. Setting out your position and your proposition is key. Management trainers talk about “elevator pitches.” These are speeches usually made by a junior executive to a senior one in the time it takes to go from the first floor to the twentieth, for example. If you can get your message, your main point, over in that time, then you are a clear and logical thinker and, no doubt, you’ll go far. Of course, in a speech you have more time, but the process is much the same.

Rhetoric and Your Position in History

Very often a speaker can gain position and respect by locating him or herself in history. You can do that too. And it doesn’t have to be world history of course. The “history” can relate to a modest project or initiative, to a relationship, to a marriage, to a business, to a country, and to time. Indeed, Obama locates himself in history—a clever approach. One of his early campaign catchphrases was, “There is something happening in America.” He also talks about “unyielding faith,” “impossible odds,” and “the voices of millions.” He urges crowds to recognize that “this was the moment.” Such use of the past tense gives us the odd sense of already looking back at the moment, of being in and out of time. It puts the speaker and his or her message right at the front of the audience’s mind, and it shows the speech content to be very big and therefore very important—of the moment. You can do this. Try it now. Consider a sentence which begins “This was the moment when the campaign to deliver profitable returns began,” or “This was the moment when the team understood that the new system worked.” You’ll see that it gives what you have to say (and the implication of what you have to say) great weight, even if the weight of the “thing” isn’t that big a deal. Make it a big deal. Of course, you should make a big deal of something only if that something is important to you and, crucially, to your audience. It’s all about the proposition. It’s all about expanding the way people see you and hear you. It positions you as being a bigger player. But don’t boast. Show instead that you have developed or achieved something big. Something of value. Then, through oratory, it’s your job to tell others about this “value.” State the proposition and then expand it in order to sell the idea.

Good Oratory is Rare So There’s Room for You

Despite what we may see in Obama’s speeches, oratory today (let alone great oratory) is rare. It’s not generally taught in secondary schools and rarely in tertiary education. Certainly, debating societies exist, but they’re regarded as elitist, and the process of debating isn’t refined or nurtured in any particular way. This isn’t just an American conundrum but an international issue. The standard of political and business “public” discourse is low everywhere. Public speaking is, by and large, ignored, resented, or avoided. Where have all our orators gone? Are there so few left? Why are there so few left? Do people really not want to listen to argument and persuasive language beautifully delivered? The social, financial, and governmental issues are as pressing and dramatic as they ever were. Perhaps even more so. The world is still regularly on the edge of something dangerous, dark, or doom-laden. These are times which in the future may well be marked as history’s hinges, so where are the big vocal moments? Maybe our collective patience is less than it was. W...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• A Beginning: Wednesday Morning, New York
• Introduction
• Chapter One: Whatever You Say
• Chapter Two: This Little Thing Called Oratory
• Chapter Three: Tell Them a Story
• Chapter Four: Now, Go to the Movies
• Chapter Five: Leadership
• Chapter Six: Sometimes It All Goes Wrong
• Chapter Seven: Time for a Workout: An Oratorical Six-Pack
• Chapter Eight: Who Cares About Audiences Anyway?
• Chapter Nine: Jargon and Other Rubbish
• Chapter Ten: Persuasion
• Chapter Eleven: Structure? What Structure?
• Chapter Twelve: Body Languid
• Chapter Thirteen: Quote Unquote
• Chapter Fourteen: Presidential Speechwriters
• Chapter Fifteen: Speak Like a President
• Conclusion
• Another Beginning: Wednesday Afternoon, London
• Further Reading