ESN Conference September 2013: Why write speeches?

 

And so to the main business of the European Speechwriter Network conference, on Friday 20 September.  (Notes on the pre-conference proceedings are here.)  Here are my selected highlights.

Denise Graveline, our capable Chair, set the tone.  (Check out Denise's website, doing its bit to redress the gender imbalance that has damaged the world of public speaking for - how long?)

English – the conference language on this occasion – is not one language but many.  (Cue customary jokes about American and English.)  When we say “I’m speaking your language,” we don’t just mean “I’m speaking your native language,” but “I agree with you.  I see things your way.”  Language generates both meaning and filters of meaning.  Never more so than in the TED age, when audiences are both diverse and – often – remote.  Technology, humour, public opinion: so many filters can alter a speaker’s meaning. 

(The theme was echoed later by Max Atkinson, who reminded us how much English is spoken by non-native speakers to audiences of non-native speakers.  How do the filters work?)

 

Rune Kier Nielsen energized us with his advice on how to exploit the new filters of social media.  Drawing on his work in Brazil and with ethnic minorities in Copenhagen, and inspired by his young daughter’s love of fairy stories, Rune offered us the seven dwarves of social media and their essential rules.

In summary:

Share what you find.  Share your research, using LinkedIn groups and others.  And use those groups also for inspiration.
Get to know the others.  Follow the opinion makers and hashtags, the debates and the conversations.  Poll functions can be ‘ideation platforms' to help you develop your ideas.  Challenge and form opinion on YouTube.  Let your audience become participants.  We’re talking co-creation.
Light the path for the one in front.  Being a speechwriter means analysing the speaker as much as the audience.  Use social media to guide and promote your speakers; link their speeches to websites and groups.  Make them visible.
Shout to be heard.  We can piggyback on others’ success.  We can find popular blogs on our subject, link the speech to it and ask our network to share.
Remember your talks.  Storify collates all the social media in one place.  Pinterest does the same thing for visuals.  They’re good for inspiration, too.
Follow your word around.  “One feather is worth five chickens.”  (Did I hear that right?  Danish proverb, I think.  I didn’t get to ask.  Google has so far not helped me.)  Speechwriters don’t have to be outnumbered by others in cyberspace.  Use Tweetreach.
Share to succeed.  If your speaker is a woman, share her speech on Denise’s site.  Use Vital Speeches of the Day. (Of which more below.)  And nothing, but nothing, will increase your credibility with your speaker than telling them that they’re on a site with Obama, Elizabeth I and the Pope. 

My big takeaway: every tweet must have content.  Tweets should lead somewhere.  No content?  Stay silent.

Jonathan Parish reminded us of the problems of translation and the horrors of sending speech texts through multiple layers of authorization.  Parish works for NATO, which has a 300-page glossary of acronyms.  Speechwriters in this organization need to translate wonkery into plain language, but they also need to recognize the effects of eight (or more) layers of intervention on their lovingly crafted tricolons.  In his words: "Each of us has the hide of a rhinoceros." 

Mia Doornaert offered us a privileged insight into her work as a speechwriter at the highest level of politics.  Three moments stand out for me. 

First:  her view on the status of speechwriters.   In Anglo-Saxon countries, she suggests, we are seen as craftsfolk, professional wordsmiths.  In Latin countries, a speechwriter has the status somewhat of a mercenary.  Speakers using others’ words are seen as dishonest.

Second: her disdain for ‘mail-order catalogue speeches’, with no clear line and no message.  “A good speech,” she says, “generates headlines automatically.”  She admired the minister who told her: “I don’t want just to speak; I want to say something.”

And third, her closing quotation, from Bill Bernbach (and thank you, Mia, for allowing me to copy it down):

 

The truth isn’t the truth until people believe you.  And they can’t believe you if they don’t know what you’re saying.  And they can’t know what you’re saying if they don’t listen to you.  And they wont listen to you if you’re not interesting.  And you won’t be interesting unless you say things imaginatively, originally, freshly.

 

Amélie Crosson-Gooderham, Senior Analyst and Writer at the Bank of Canada, feels noticeably at ease working in a multi-lingual environment.  “For me,” she says, “Babel is a very comfortable place.”  Her advice on how to write for non-native speakers was wise. 

As with any audience, your intention and language should be clear.  The narrative arc and the signposts matter just as much, if not more. 

Preparation also matters more.  Speakers will need to rehearse the difficult words and phrases, when to 'breathe, stop and sip'.  The text will benefit from more visuals, especially on slides.  Use paintings to make your point metaphorically. (Linguistic metaphors might be more problematic).  The writer needs to coach their speaker.  Practise with them; attend the event; take notes and give feedback.

Richard Toye showed us that audience reaction can be complex, even when the language is shared.  Churchill’s wartime speeches (discussed in Professor Toye's new book, The Roar of the Lion) were not the universally inspiring events of post-war myth.  Interestingly, the moments when he offered his audience detailed, depressing accounts of setbacks and defeats actually increased his authority (his ethos) when the war’s momentum turned in the allies’ favour; the good news became more credible. 

Professor Toye suggested that, if there is any lesson from Churchill for today's speechwriters, it is that the famous soundbites were actually less important at the time than his detailed arguments and explanations.

And David Murray brought matters to a satisfying conclusion.  Murray runs Vital Speeches of the Day, an essential resource for any speechwriter.  He began by asking the most important question of all.

Why are we here? 

After all, a speech is about the least efficient way to deliver information – or arguments or explanations, for that matter.  Why do we gather to listen to speeches?  Why do we seem to crave them?  What are we seeking?

His answers: community, charm, courage.  (Yeah. I know.  That's my triad, not his.)

Audiences want to feel safe; they want to feel that they are united and enlivened. Hatred will unite them; hatred of incompetence, he hastened to add, quoting Mencken.  But shared goals will also bind an audience together, as will a sense that the speaker cares passionately about the cause. 

Murray quoted Kafka:

A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.

As with books, he suggests, so with speeches.

The most common complaint that he hears from speechwriters?  That speakers want to share facts, when audiences want inspiration.

Perhaps Murray’s right.  Correction:  of course Murray's right.  Why give a speech simply to give the audience information?  Why make a speech at all?  As Amélie Crosson-Gooderham had reminded us earlier in the day: to create awareness, build community and inspire action.  Those are the reasons that matter.

An inspiring note on which to end an inspiring day.

(Find more conference photos here.)