Shove It To Them: the 8th UK Speechwriters Guild Conference, Oxford 2014
05 April 2014
Brian Jenner has done it again. The 8th UK Speechwriters’ conference, held last week in the splendid surroundings of Trinity, Oxford, proved once more that, although speechwriters may prefer influence to credit, they do enjoy coming out into the light and seeking out their own kind.
Celia Delaney, our Chair and MC, established an atmosphere of fun and camaraderie within seconds. She opened with a gag and closed with a song. Unaccompanied. Which is more than I would dare.
Two innovations caught my attention this year. The first was an open mike session, conjured through urgent necessity, which gave two delegates the opportunity to take the floor and speak for ten minutes. Energising and diverting, this should become a permanent fixture.
Both speakers on this occasion highlighted the conference's internationalism. How does rhetoric change in different political circumstances? How does it cross cultural boundaries?
Neringa Vaisbrodė, for example, works in Lithuania, where memories of totalitarian doublespeak are still fresh. When she contemplates rhetoric, she finds it hard to shake off feelings of “dishonesty, danger and disbelief”. As speechwriter for the President, she embodies the reinvigoration of democratic political discourse.
Social media create new challenges. Twitter, says Naeinga, helps her sharpen her messages, though it’s not especially user-friendly (too many long words in Lithuanian).
Her key insights: ignore all the ‘very important’ requests from senior civil servants and ministers; and don’t be afraid to deliver a draft you consider sub-standard. “Better done,” she says, “than perfect.”
Willi Vogler, speaking on the main programme, echoed Naringa's sense of rhetoric's troubled reputation. He brought greetings from VRDS, the German Speechwriters' Association, which is working hard to reinstate speechwriting as a profession in a country understandably nervous about oratory. VRDS is already well down the road towards accrediting speechwriters and establishing standardised terms and conditions for their hire.
Villi ended by quoting a useful dictum from Otto Brahm: “What has been crossed out cannot be a flop.”
Jens Kjeldsen opened the conference by asking: why do speeches matter? What’s the USP of a speech? Its ability to weld an audience into a community. The unified response that derives from being physically present in the same space can't be replicated in any other medium. Jens’ big idea was that stories in speeches only persuade when they become arguments: not mediated by dialectic but physically embodied. When speakers invest themselves in rhetorical arguments, putting themselves on the line, and entrusting the audience with their cause, we identify with them and thus with their position. Logos meets ethos.
(Jens has written extensively. I've found his paper on PowerPoint particularly useful.)
Caroline Johns offered insights from the world of corporate speechmaking. Caroline is Chief of Staff to Deloitte’s global Chairman, Steve Almond. Have a clear theme, she told us; make use of surprise; and exercise good judgement. If in doubt, cut it out. Caroline is a historian and championed the virtues of thorough research. Analyse complexity, she says, and explain it simply. Good advice.
Sam Leith brought the core principles of classical rhetoric to life. The author of You Talkin' to Me told us to scrutinise every sentence. If it’s not contributing to the logos, remove it. Speakers sometimes talk big for fear of revealing that their ideas are small. Figures of speech are fun; Cicero’s joke books, apparently, are not.
David Krikler took fun to the edge. Where else are you likely to be if you write for an Israeli ambassador? Activists urge a boycott of Israeli dates as fast-breakers for Ramadan? Suggest that people buy more and support a two-date solution. The Egyptians complain that Israel is despatching sharks to terrorise tourists at Sharm El-Sheikh? Adapt the Jaws poster to read – yes – ‘Jews’.
Humour, says David, has five benefits:
- it establishes rapport between speechwriter and speaker;
- it can cut down to size the more outrageous claims of your opponents;
- it can ‘shove it to the audience’ with memorable power;
- it can allow the speaker to refer to the elephant in the room; and
- it can help deliver difficult messages.
Ben Locker reinvigorated the old AIDCA technique with a fascinating sales letter written in the 1920s by Lewis Victor Eytinge. (‘C’ is for ‘caution’: what rhetoricians would call rebutting the audience’s objections to your case.) Ben was good on the three types of headline: those that stimulate curiosity; the ones that being news; and the ones that offer a benefit. Moral: know your audience’s concerns and address them. (This emerged as another strong theme in the conference.)
David Day brought huge experience as a preacher to the conversation. His principles: mention the elephant in the room (or the pew); put faces on the words; and address grace not guilt.
That second principle breaks down into six methods.
- Use personal disclosure (but don’t overdo the grisly details).
- Visualise concepts (personify Generosity as a person, for example – David is clearly much influenced by Bunyan).
- Use images to re-arrange the mind’s furniture (a person is like a fountain, never the same but maintaining its shape; now consider the resurrection of the body).
- Find instances and examples (shades of Aristotle’s enthymeme).
- Use testimonies ('don't just take my word for it...').
- Tell illustrative stories (he didn’t use the word, but we are surely talking parables here).
(David's written two books. Find them here.)
Incidentally, 60% of Americans believe that the Bible is literally true. But only in the King James Version. Put it in Hebrew, and the number drops to 40%. So says Robert Lehrman, speechwriter to Al Gore, author of The Political Speechwriter's Companion and one-time student of Kurt Vonnegut (whom he somewhat resembles). You might think you know what your audience knows, understands and believes; but you might be surprised.
Marion Chapsal, also on the open mike, offered a culinary allegory of the decline of French rhetoric. What’s the difference between mille feuilles and trifle? The one is elegant, rational, pyramidal, Cartesian (and, I suspect, Ramist). In short, French. The other is messy, intuitive, shapeless, pragmatic and adaptable. In a word, unFrench. The images suggest, for her, the need to breathe passion back into French presenting.
Wiping the saliva from our lips, we moved on.
What about the writer's relationship with their speaker? Richard Mullender encouraged us to negotiate as if they were hostage takers.
You know how to listen? Not according to Dick.
There is no point in attempting to capture the brilliance of his workshop. Read his book. Better still, book him.
Clark Judge has been speechwriter for Reagan and both Bushes. He now runs the White House Writers’ Group. His ethos was perfect. “You,” he said in opening, “are all my speechwriters.”
He discussed the rhetorical style of recent presidents in terms of music. Reagan: symphonic. Bush Snr: rock ‘n’ roll (simple, driving rhythms). Clinton had two styles: on policy, he was jazz; on the stump, he was Cajun. The younger Bush was country music: rigid structures and evangelical lyricism. And Obama: think Miles when discussing policy, and gospel on the stump.
(We often link rhetoric to poetry. The links to music are surely just as strong. Clark reminded us that there are useful seams to be mined here.)
I mentioned two innovations. The second was the presence of students, from both schools and universities. It was great to see them. Next time, they should take the floor. At the open mike, perhaps.
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