Poor Phil. In his position as manager, he has to both sit in on and give a lot of presentations. He’s bored by the former and frightened by the latter. When he listens to others’ talks, he’s judgmental and critical. “Why don’t these zombies get a clue and come to life?” Yet, when it’s his turn, he becomes the same talking head.
What’s going on? Why is it Phil can be so clear on what he likes and doesn’t like in a presentation, yet can’t even come close to getting it right himself? Is it that good speakers are born good and Phil and we ordinary mortals are doomed to perpetually put our audiences to sleep?
Genetics is not the answer to this mystery. The answer is in the interrelationship of two factors: the fear of the “Bozo Zone,” and our inability to accurately judge how we’re coming across to an audience.
First, let’s define the Bozo Zone. The continuum is a measure of Phil’s energy during a presentation. Imagine at the far left is zero, where Phil is in a catatonic state. As we move right toward 10%, he talks, but his lips barely move, his head slowly bobs up and down, and his eyes are fixated on either the script or a spot on the far wall.
I call this the Zombie Zone. There is little life in the speaker, little energy coming across to the listeners. Phil is in a state of contraction, trying to be as small as possible.
As we move up the continuum, at about 30% or so, Phil uses gestures, looks directly at people in the audience, sounds relaxed and conversational, and seems to actually be enjoying speaking. The audience is involved, listening, enjoying the talk.
I call this the Energy Zone. It’s the area we all aim for because we know that it’s here that real communication can take place. Phil is no longer in a state of contraction, but is now in expansion, opening up.
What happens if we move up to 50%? Phil becomes more animated, moves about the stage area freely, and is perceived as enthusiastic and involved. That’s good.
But it’s starting to get dangerous. Somewhere at about 70%, hard to say exactly where, a terrible, deadly line is crossed. Phil becomes so animated, the gestures, movements and voice so exaggerated that he is no longer perceived as sincere. Phil becomes a phony. The line has been crossed from the Energy Zone into the dreaded Bozo Zone.
Why this zone is so feared is that from this area the speaker has lost credibility. When we think about it, credibility is all Phil really has, the audience’s willingness to accept him as a credible source.
We all fear entering this zone with good reason. No one willingly and consciously goes there unless it’s for comedic effect. In fact, our fear of the Bozo Zone is so strong that if given only two choices, being in the Zombie Zone or the Bozo Zone, we would all choose the Zombie Zone without hesitation. Our explanation would be that we’d rather be considered a boring speaker but a credible source than a phony. Our instincts about this are right.
Okay, you may be thinking, but there are more choices. Why don’t we choose to speak in the Energy Zone?
This brings in our second factor, our inability to accurately judge what zone we’re in.
When Phil stands up in front of a group to speak, a strange and marvelous thing takes place: he becomes afraid. Adrenalin is pumped into the bloodstream. Heart rate and blood pressure rise; breathing becomes shallow and rapid.
This response creates what many have called “an altered state of consciousness,” or in extreme cases, an “out-of-body experience.”
How objective can Phil be at this time about what’s going on? Not much. But watch. We’ll suggest that Phil gesture while speaking. In this altered state, any gestures that are more than the twitching of the fingers feels like the Bozo Zone. And since Phil instinctively backs away from that zone, he stops gesturing and there he is, frozen in the Zombie Zone.
For Phil the Energy Zone exists as only a thin, thin sliver between the Zombie and Bozo zones. As soon as he begins to become expressive, it feels as though he’s rubbing his shoulder up against the border of the Bozo Zone. “Back off, back off,” his mind screams. “Red alert!”
The truth is, the Energy Zone is broad and expansive. It’s there, but Phil can’t feel its presence as long as he’s in that altered state of consciousness.
The easiest way out of this dilemma is for Phil to use gestures while he is videotaped. Then he should watch the playback.
Phil is initially dumbfounded. He’s expecting to see a fool, a clown, wildly gesturing and losing all credibility. Instead he sees a speaker using gestures, nothing more.
Watch Phil now. He’s still nervous, but he’s willing to override his inner voice that says he’s going too far. His gestures feel uncomfortable but look natural and enthusiastic.
And his audiences like the change, too. Phil’s no longer speaking in the Zombie Zone. He’s gone to pure energy.
If you don’t think too good, don’t think too much.
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