OnSpeechwriting

The Professional Speechwriters Association: Welcome to a Brand New World

David Murray, long-time speech hound and editor of the invaluable Vital Speeches of the Day, is at it again. Actually doing stuff that others had only dreamed about. This time? Two major events. First, he's co-founded the Professional Speechwriters Association. And, second, he's arranging for the first-ever Professional Speechwriters Association World Conference.

He was gracious enough to share some of his thoughts about the association, the future of speechwriting and, mostly, the "why" behind the "what." Here's a short interview with him.

Fletcher: You’ve formed a new Professional Speechwriters Association. Tell me why you thought one was necessary.

David Murray: Car wash managers have a professional association! Almost 2,500 years after Aristotle, speechwriters don't? The question is, why has it taken us so long? This is a unique discipline, demanding more specific kinds of intellect, craft and emotional intelligence than other public relations specialties, like media relations or community relations. So speechwriters need a way to learn from one another—because they have many problems only fellow speechwriters can solve.

Also: Though speechwriters are generally better paid than their peers in other communication disciplines, they are also much more vulnerable. It's common that a leadership turnover leaves a perfectly good speechwriter suddenly out of a job, as the new leader wants to bring in his or her own person. So speechwriters need to have a one-stop shop for networking, and as PSA grows, it will provide that.

Finally, speechwriters are a tribe. They like to be together. For years I organized the Ragan speechwriting conference, and invariably people would come up to me afterward and pump my hand. Thank you for putting this together. The Professional Speechwriters Association is designed to give that sense of comfort, stimulation and sense of community all year round.

FD: What’s the benefit to speechwriters for joining?

DM: Members will basically get lots of stuff they need, for cheap or free. They get to use the PSA logo, which marks them to employers and prospects as committed members of the profession. They get a free subscription to Vital Speeches of the Day, which keeps them current on what the leaders of the world are saying on all the current issues. They get free access to an exclusive, members-only LinkedIn Group Almost half-off the annual World Conference. 

They also get big discounts to industry events, discounted entry into the Cicero Speechwriting Awards and lots of other benefits. Basically, a membership is a bulk discount on all or most of the things speechwriters normally by. And we plan on adding benefits as we go—making discount deals for our members with conveners of speechwriting seminars around the world, and making affinity deals with regional speechwriting groups so that the whole speechwriting world.

Eventually, we also see ourselves conducting salary surveys, studying trends in the business and possibly providing member spokespeople to represent the point of view of the speechwriting profession in public conversations that call for it—really doing all the advocacy and information-gathering that other associations do, but just for this very select group: people who call themselves speechwriters.

Speechwriting, as a profession, seems to be changing since I joined the ranks 20 plus years ago. Do you see if changing and how?

DM: It's changing in a million ways, for good and ill. But the Professional Speechwriters Association is a sign of one of the best ways it's changing. Twenty years ago two speechwriters working in the same city would have had a hard time finding one another. Now speechwriters commonly have speechwriting friends all over the world thanks to the Internet and to regional speechwriting associations like the UK Speechwriters Guild and the European Speechwriting Network. Having a global umbrella organization like the PSA will only make the small world of speechwriting that much smaller, so speechwriters can find one another and get the information or inspiration they need. Speechwriting need not be a lonely job any longer.

To help kick off the PSA, you’ve organized the first annual World Conference. What’s the goal and what can attendees expect?

DM: Attendees can expect to listen to speakers and share space with other speechwriters who are committed to the profession and experienced in the peculiar facts of the life of a speechwriter or executive communicator. They can expect candid, high-level discussions. Among the keynote speakers at this conference are PR legend Fraser Seitel and a leader with experience on both ends of the speechwriting game, actually—former CIA director and U.S. Forces Commander (and onetime speechwriter, did you know?) ... General David Petraeus. But most speakers will be people you've never heard of—anonymous speechwriters—who have found better ways to do this difficult work, and want to share their knowledge with their peers.

Also at this first conference especially, we're going to talk explicitly about the profession itself, answering questions like yours, on how the business is changing, what speechwriters need to do to adapt—and how the Professional Speechwriters Association can help them do it.

And particularly cool—and I think some speechwriters might actually enjoy this aspect the most—attendees will get a chance to talk to undergrads at the NYU's Department of Strategic Communication, Media and Management about a speechwriting career: What it is, what it's not, and what it takes. NYU is hosting the conference this year, and we hope to make mentorship an important part of the conference every year—and a big component of the PSA. 

Let's try to make speechwriting something more than a weird job people just "fall into" by accident. And let's make it a lot more comfortable landing for those who do.

 

The Amazing World of Speechwriting

So I heard an amazing story last week at the Ragan Speechwriters’ Conference. OK, maybe not amazing but it’s a story every speechwriter and everyone who uses a speechwriter should hear.

I was there to mingle with some of the best people in the world: speechwriters who “get it.” And I delivered a workshop, a breakout session and was on a panel. But the whole conference began with a great keynote.

The speaker was Jon Favreau who was President Obama’s chief speechwriter for about eight years before he stepped out of the White House to open his own shop. That’s heady stuff, especially for someone as young as Favreau.

He talked about what it was like to write in the White House, what it is like to be on his own now – see this related article by David Murray – and what it was like writing for Obama.

It was this last part that I found so reassuring and relatable. What he described was a speech process founded on collaboration, trust and mutual admiration. At least that’s what I took away. He said it’s humbling to write for someone who’s a better writer than you are. (That was, indeed, a refreshingly humble thing to hear from someone who had every right to have a puffed chest.)

He said he would often send drafts to POTUS and have them come back with many, many tracked changes. And that it was OK. That it was part of the process. And that the process wasn’t over with one draft but often multiple drafts as they worked on the right words for the right audiences.

So many times, I hear of speechwriters who get no initial input yet are expected to write solid drafts and who have to send material up the line for approval anyway. They then have a graf or two changed and are seen as “missing the mark.” And yet here’s a guy who can write as well as anyone and describes a process that is characterized by a constant and respectful give-and-take.

Hmmm. See some problems here?

What he described is the way the process SHOULD work … and yet rarely does according to so many of my speechwriting friends in Washington. Instead, they describe an opaque process where they write in a black hole with little or no initial input then are criticized for a speech that doesn’t hit the target.

One speechwriter was so distraught he told me privately he was thinking of simply retiring. He said it wasn’t worth the frustration any more. A man who’s a capable writer, smart and engaging and yet who’s bosses stifle him at every turn by shutting him out of the one process that’s critical to his job and his client’s success: the speech-making process.

Even Favreau complained that some of his corporate clients had no clue WHY they should speak. They just wanted to sound like a leader. And they have no time for the initial discussions. As Favrau said, if POTUS has time to think about his speeches and discuss them between fighting Congress and managing wars, corporate clients should, too.

The best process includes an initial discussion about what the communications strategy is, what the speech itself needs to accomplish that goal, and some real back-and-forth discussion built on a foundation of mutual trust and respect. Then you go write and have some additional back-and-forth.

Are you going to hit a home run every time? No, not even with the best process. But having a process in place like I described prevents a lot of missteps, gives a better end product and makes for happier clients and satisfied writers.

And it is amazing, if only because it’s so often rare.

David Murray - in the aforementioned article - believes it's because the clients no longer believe in the power of a speech. Maybe. I'm willing to entertain that idea.

Then again, maybe it's our fault for not making the case strong enough. I've found that speechwriting entails a constant process of re-education. Most executives I know don't come up through the organization giving a lot of speeches. They're managers who - at most - speak to employees in small town hall sessions. They haven't been on the big stage. They don't know what it CAN do.

Part of our job, it seems, is to demonstrate that speeches still matter. Becuase you and I know that looking people in the eye and telling them what you think - instead of hiding behind an anonymous twitter feed or blog - is amazingly effective when done right.

 

 

Required Reading for Speechwriters

Attention all speechwriters (and the leaders they serve): There is required reading for you this weekend.

Two great pieces on communications appeared over the weekend and if you missed them you missed a fantastic opportunity to learn about the importance of real, purposeful communication. The first talks about how to determine a key message in a speech. The second talks about how - and why - to connect that speech to a larger narrative.

When I speak about and teach speechwriting, I often encourage writers to begin with a simple 1-2-3 process:

1. Analyze the audience and determine what it’s needs are;
2. Determine your purpose for speaking;
3. Choose your key message - your narrative - carefully and accordingly.

These have to be taken in this order, by the way. One builds on the other. If you pick your key messages before you know what the audience needs – a mistake more common than you might believe – you waste a tremendous opportunity and risk alienating the audience. In fact, you will probably do more harm than good to you and your organization.

A common gaffe among many speakers is going to the podium with either A) too many key messages or B) no key messages or narrative at all. The result is a confusing jumble of words and speeches that may inform but do little else. They don’t creat understanding. They don’t reinforce values. They don’t change opinion. And they certainly don’t elicit action.

But you don’t have to take my word for it. Two illuminating pieces over the weekend reinforce this idea very eloquently.

The first is from the master speechwriter Bob Lehrman, the chief speechwriter for Al Gore and now a professor at American University. His opinion piece at The New York Times is a must-read for any one who even ocassionally writes speeches.

In this highly entertaining essay, Bob talks about how he got into speechwriting, the importance of story, why establishing and protecting ethos is critical and awesome power of simplicity. And he speaks with the experience of someone who’s fought the battles: “It also can be difficult,” he writes, “to make someone sound like Moses addressing the Israelites when you announce a three-point plan for reducing the deficit.”

I would encourage you to pay most attention, however, to his words on Monroe’s Motivated Sequence. He says it’s the most popular structure for political speeches and I have no doubt he’s correct. But it could be – and perhaps should be – the go-to structure for those in the corporate and not-for-profit sector as well. Why? Because it forces the speaker to go through the 1-2-3 process I outlined above and places the speech message where it should be: on the audience and its needs.

I call it choosing your own headline. If you fail to choose your own headline – by writing speeches with either no clear, audience-centric message or too many messages – you leave that critical task to the audience. That's a failure of purpose communication and a failure of true leadership.

The second piece is from The New York Times Magazine, a great piece of writing from Matt Bai. Again, the subject is how – and why – establishing your own narrative with the audience is crucial. Case in point: President Obama’s failure to do just that for four years.

Too often, leaders get caught up in the day-to-day. A speech here on health care. A speech there on trade. Another one on the importance of energy or national defense. As Bai points out, there is nothing wrong with that, expect when it’s unconnected to an overall narrative or storyline. In other words, it's fine to have great speeches but do the speeches - collectively - help tell a larger story that resonates with your audience?

David Gergen is quoted as comparing a leader’s need for a clear narrative to a clothesline: “You adopt your clothesline and then you hang your policies from it. They’re missing the clothesline.”

And when you fail to establish that narrative, you create a vacuum. And nature abhors a vacuum ... but only for an instance. Why? Because the moment you fail to fill that void with your own story, someone else will fill it for you. And why would anyone surrender their own narrative to someone else?

Two great articles. Two great lessons. Enjoy.

Commencement Speeches 2011: The best ... and the rest

The familiar refrains of “Pomp and Circumstance” have faded. Mortar boards and gowns have been carefully folded and put away. The Class of 2011 has (mostly) left the auditorium, in search of jobs and new apartments. All of which means it’s time again to commit ourselves to a reckoning of the best, the worst and the merely mediocre commencement speeches of 2011. 

This year’s crop of speeches – from luminaries, CEOs, actors, and secretaries of this department or that – was largely “B” work. Most was filled with the typical fluff and pith: follow your dream, be passionate, don’t be a cynic, we need your talents more than ever, etc. But most of the ones I read tended to be shorter than usual so there wasn’t much room for the speakers to get into real trouble by going too far afield or losing their audiences in a reckless ramble of thought.

That’s actually an improvement over past years when it was easy to find several true stinkers without really trying. In fact, I had to read many dozen to find a couple that were so off-the-mark as to qualify as examples of “please-don’t-do-this” primers.

So here’s a sampling of this year’s commencement speeches and what we speechwriters can learn from them for next year. These aren’t the best of the best or even the worst of the worst. They’re only the ones I tripped across and thought we could learn something from. If you found a great example we can learn from, post it below in the comments section.

First, some of the best in no particular order:

• Robert Cargill, Fresno City College. This nice speech does several things right. First, all speakers like to tell a bit of their life stories but few have the skill to pull it off like Cargill. He doesn’t bore the audience with his life history, but collects his life’s ups and downs into a short, snappy segments punctuated repeatedly with “I am you, 18 years from now.” It’s an effective way to remind the audience that life is unpredictable but survivable. This speech is also short with a solid structure that respects the fact that the audience has better things to do than listen to a commencement speaker. The big lessons? Keep the language engaging, the length short and the structure simple.
• Denzel Washington, University of Pennsylvania. My confession: I picked this speech because I was sure that the actor – like so many other celebrities – would flub this one by focusing only on himself. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Washington begins this with some great “insider jokes” that all the grads would get. Specific comments about the food on campus, the squirrel population and a guy named “kweeder” all show he did his homework. Audiences appreciate that.  (OK, it probably helped that his son is a Penn student but what the audience hears is ‘I care.’) Two things make this speech (video version) a real success, though. One, his language is natural and uncontrived. It’s comfortable to hear. Secondly, he uses a very brief personal anecdote to segue into his main point: “don’t fall back, fall forward.” Big Lesson? Find a short, memorable theme and stick with it. Be yourself. It works.
• Robert Krulwich, University of Berkeley School of Journalism. Another surprise. I picked this largely because it was eight pages long, single-spaced! I knew it would be a first-rate example of speaking too long, disrespecting your audience, etc. Alas, it turned out to be a first-rate speech, my personal favorite, and probably the most appropriate one I found for the audience. Krulwich is a radio and TV journalist and he hit the J-school grads where it hurts: “How these days does anybody get a good job in journalism?” he asked. Given the rapidly changing world of journalism, you know it has to be on their minds. He provides an optimistic answer and along the way tells a host of good stories. For any other audience, this would be a misguided approach. The safe course is to get into the speech and get out. Be the apocryphal body at an Irish wake and all of that. But journalism students – like most speechwriters – love a good story. And Krulwich manages to tell several relevant stories without losing his audience. Big Lesson? Know your audience and write appropriately.
• Sheryl Sandberg, Barnard College. The COO of Facebook delivers a solid commencement speech here. It’s virtually a how-to all by itself. She uses short anecdotes from her life to make larger points. Her language has nice rhythms – short sentences, long sentences. She doesn’t make it a “Sheryl Sandberg” speech or a “Facebook” speech or a product ad (unlike Steve Ballmer of Microsoft who clumsily dropped in references to Microsoft products in his talk at the University of Southern California). Most of all, she has crafted a speech exquisitely appropriate for the audience of female grads: how to succeed in what is largely still a man’s world. Big lesson? Having something interesting to say – a real point of view – will take you a long way.

Now for the rest. The not-so-good, off-the-mark speeches that make you want to pick up the phone and offer your speechwriting services. Or at least some counsel.

• Sylvia Earle, Smith College. OK, it does make sense for speakers to pull from their lives and tell stories from their own realms. Business leaders talk about succeeding in business. Doctors talk about treating the ill. But the best commencement speeches use these anecdotes as short parables. They’re tools to find the universal theme the graduates can learn from. Unfortunately, Earle – an oceanographer – offers three full pages (about three-quarters of her talk) on how terrible the oceans are. What a bummer. On a day that should be celebratory! Big lesson? No one wants to hear the negatives on a day of triumph. Keep it positive and focus on the graduates.
• Sec. of Defense Robert Gates, Notre Dame. This was a great example of a fine speech … but a terrible commencement speech. Technically, this is as sound a speech (video version) as you would expect from Gates, someone whose speeches I’ve always admired. It moves quickly. The language is competent if not inspiring. The biggest problem is that it really doesn’t relate to the occasion. The speech is all about defense policy. Boring … for this audience at this time. A better approach might have been to share a few “observations” from his vaulted position – very appropriate considering he’s announced his retirement – and what that means for the grads entering the big, bad world. Tell them what he has learned that they can use. Big lesson? Give the audience a reason for listening.
• Jo Ivey Boufford, Pace University. Another example of taking yourself and your job way too seriously. Boufford is president of the New York Academy of Medicine. You get the feeling she didn’t have time to write a commencement speech and grabbed the first old policy speech she could get her hands on. There’s nothing here for the audience to listen to. Yes, I get it: healthcare is important. And she’s president of a medical association. But is it really appropriate to tell a bunch of grads that “Just last week, the first-ever grant from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) to improve indoor air quality and eliminate household environmental conditions that exacerbate asthma symptoms was awarded to a faith based community organization Little Sisters of the Assumption with deep roots in East Harlem, a low-income, minority neighborhood where asthma is a leading cause of school and work absences, emergency room visits and hospitalizations”? Makes you pine away for a good, old-fashioned Mahatma Gandhi quote, doesn’t it? Plus, that was a 60-word sentence! I’m kind of surprised she didn’t faint just trying to deliver that one line and have to be revived on the spot. Unlike the rest of the speech, at least that would have been memorable. Big lesson? Lighten up a little, OK? Graduations are supposed to be fun.

There is no one-size-fits-all approach for commencement speeches. I do know – and this year’s speeches reinforce this – that if you want to fail: talk about yourself, talk about your company, talk about things the grads can’t relate to.

Success is more fleeting. Humor works (Denzel Washington). Brevity is an advantage (Robert Cargill). Having a real point of view helps (Sheryl Sandberg). Using language and stories that engages the audience and is fun to listen to is a real bonus (Robert Krulwich).

But perhaps the biggest lesson from this year’s offerings is the simplest. Once again, I’m reminded of my favorite mantra I try to deliver at every conference and every workshop: It’s not about the speaker. It’s not about their life’s work. It’s all about the audience. To paraphrase former Chrysler CEO Lee Iacocca, if you begin with a deep respect for the audience, everything will fall into place.

McChrystal Speech a Model of Eloquence

I’m always on the lookout for speeches we can learn from. To tell the truth, most of the speeches I highlight harbor attributes that make them candidates for a “you-can-do-better-than-this” exposition: poor structure, too much hubris, confusing messages or lack of attention to the audience’s needs.

Then, once in awhile, something comes along and restores my faith in the awesome power of a well-written speech. This is such a case. The speech comes courtesy of the fine folks at Vital Speeches of the Day who included it in their Speech of the Week email. (It’s free. Sign up now.) 

The source is an unlikely one, at least for me. General Stanley McChrystal – often characterized in the media as being blunt and direct – delivers a retirement speech that is not only a model of eloquence but a great example of how to effectively deal with a difficult subject. It’s an admirable speech in terms of the circumstances in which it was delivered, but for students of speechwriting, it’s also a model of structure and pacing.

You can find the speech here, topped by speeches at the same occasion by General George Casey and Secretary of Defense Robert Gates.

First, the setting. McChrystal is the former Commander of the International Security Assistance Force and Commander of U.S. Forces Afghanistan. He resigned those duties after being recalled to Washington by President Obama for making unflattering remarks about Vice President Biden and others in a recent Rolling Stones article.

Days later, he announced his retirement from the United States Army after 34 years of service.

In his retirement speech, McChrystal demonstrates what many PR veterans often advise their clients to do but rarely see in action: he deals with the elephant in the room quickly. Through humor and humility, he successfully defuses the tension the entire audience must have been feeling and captures an amazing sense of admiration.

He begins with a joke about wanting to exaggerate his accomplishments then follows it up with another that signals he’s not there to dodge the question of his retirement.

“ ... to those here tonight who feel the need to contradict my memories with the truth, remember I was there too. I have stories on all of you, photos on many, and I know a Rolling Stone reporter.”

He follows it up immediately with a blunt admission and segues gracefully into the theme of his comments as he mentions his wife and their future together. As he does, notice how he signals the audience with such words as “still” and the stoic “that’s what I feel,” both important auditory clues for the audience. Plus you have to love the joke at the end of this section that keep things light:

“Look, this has the potential to be an awkward or even a sad occasion. With my resignation, I left a mission I feel strongly about. I ended a career I loved that began over 38 years ago. And I left unfulfilled commitments I made to many comrades in the fight, commitments I hold sacred. My service did not end as I would have wished ...

“Still, Annie and I aren't approaching the future with sadness but with hope ...

“And my feelings for more than 34 years I spent as an Army officer are a combination of surprise that any experience could have been as rich and fulfilling as mine was and gratitude for the comrades and friends we were blessed with.

“That's what I feel. And if I fail to communicate that effectively tonight, I'll simply remind you that Secretary Gates once told me I was a modern Patton of strategic communications.”

The remainder of the speech is a model in structure. First, he divides the people he wants to thank into four groups – audiences love number structures because they’re so easy to follow – and then calls out a laundry list of individuals to thank individually. He ends that section – as the audience might expect – with his wife with some extremely poignant – and humorous – words.

He ends the speech with some words to the wise for the comrades in arms he’s leaving behind. Known widely as a leader who was a “soldier’s soldier” and who earned immense respect for his direct leadership and willingness to say what needed to be said, his words most likely carried additional meaning for the largely military audience.

“As I leave the Army, to those with responsibility to carry on, I'd say, service in this business is tough and often dangerous. It extracts a price for participation, and that price can be high.

“It is tempting to protect yourself from the personal or professional costs of loss by limiting how much you commit, how much of belief and trust in people, and how deeply you care. Caution and cynicism are safe, but soldiers don't want to follow cautious cynics. They follow leaders who believe enough to risk failure or disappointment for a worthy cause.

“If I had it to do over again, I'd do some things in my career differently but not many. I believed in people, and I still believe in them. I trusted and I still trust. I cared and I still care. I wouldn't have had it any other way.”

We can learn a lot from this speech.

• The power of dealing with a difficult subject up front, on your own terms. This was not only smart PR, I consider it an amazing gift to the audience which was most likely anxious about what he might say. Through directness and humor, he lets them off the hook early and gives them the opportunity to enjoy the remainder of his remarks.

• The power of structure. His use of numbers, his preciseness of thanking individuals near the end and his use of signaling phrases such as “as I leave the Army” help the audience follow along and anticipate the speech progress.

• The power of pacing. Review this from top to bottom and you can see that McChrystal deftly keeps the speech moving forward. His regular and consistent use of personal anecdotes, humor and quotes is extremely effective. Likewise, he varies his sentence patterns with great effect. The combination promotes active listening by giving the audience something fun to hear.

In all, this is a speech that was just right: right for the circumstances, right for the speaker and right for the audience. You simply can’t do better than that.

An Interview with the New Editor of Vital Speeches

Vital Speeches of the Day has a new editor. David Murray, the former editor of Speechwriter's Newsletter and chair of Ragan Communications' annual Speechwriters Conference, has just been handed the reins at the most respected speech journal in the country. He was kind enough to give me an interview about the new position and his goals.

Murray's Background

Murray brings nearly two decades of experience to the position. He's covers speechwriting and executive communications out of Chicago where he lives with his wife and daughter. He also edits the weekly e-newsletter Executive Communication Report and writes and speaks widely on business communication.

If that isn't enough, he also covers politics, society sport and adventure for publications ranging from ESPN the Magazine to the Chicago Tribune and websites ranging from the Huffington Post to Vibe.com. For a look at his personal blog, check out Writing Boots.

As the new editor at Vital Speeches, Murray says in the interview below the personal writing may take a backseat as he gorges on his new job. But he does have time, energy and desire to read your speeches so be sure to send them to him.

The Interview

I realize you just  got the job, but do you see any changes ahead for Vital Speeches of the Day (VSOTD)?

You’re right, I’m just getting settled. I’m afraid to move anything, for fear that one of these great stacks of speeches might fall on me! More important than editorial changes is establishing Vital Speeches online.

I’m pouring all my extra time and energy into our new website, vsotd.com, and into social media surroundings like the herding speechwriters into our new Vital Speeches group on LinkedIn, shoveling historical and contemporary speeches onto our new You Tube channel and—yes—Tweeting.

I want to make Vital Speeches relevant to more than just the Baby-boomer-and-older policy makers, executives, academics and speechwriters who read it now, and the thousands of librarians who subscribe. I want to place Vital Speeches back where it belongs—as something that gets read by everyone who’s interested in what Americans are saying, and how they’re saying it.

As far as my editorial vision, I’m not changing the 75-year-old mission of the publication. I’m just determined to search high and low, as broadmindedly as possible, for powerful oral expressions on every subject, from every point of view imaginable. I want Vital Speeches to be more than the publication of rhetorical record. I want it to be a thrill to read every month.

There’s also now an international version of Vital Speeches. Are you involved in that?

Yep, I edit Vital Speeches International, too. Traditionally, Vital Speeches has focused on American speeches; Vital Speeches International gives us a chance to showcase great talks being given outside the States.

One of the best things about Vital Speeches is that it has always showcased not only important speeches from well-known people (like Presidents and legislators) but also brought readers some fantastic speeches from relative unknowns. Is that still a goal?

Not a goal, Fletch, a mission. Check the October issue—my first—for examples of my willingness to entertain speeches on odd subjects.

What makes a vital speech today and what can speechwriters do to potentially see their work in VSOTD?

As simply as I can put it: A Vital Speech is an authentic attempt by one person to make an audience understand something that’s important to all involved. Whether that’s about healthcare, stained-glass, free trade, dog-fighting or antique Cadillacs—I don’t care. Sincere attempts to communicate ideas to audiences. That’s what I’m after, and that’s what people will subscribe to Vital Speeches to read.  

What’s the biggest no-no for speechwriters hoping to get into VSOTD?

The most tried-and-true test of a speech is: Could any other speaker but mine have given this speech to any other audience but this, at any other time in history? If the answers to most of those criteria are “no,” you’re pretty much a shoe-in. If the answer to two or more is yes, the speech is probably headed for our shitcan. 

I saw something recently I thought I’d never see in VSOTD – slides. Is that recognition that speech giving is changing and technology like PowerPoint is more accepted now?  

Don’t look for many more slides. I do, however, believe our YouTube channel will be an increasingly important part of the Vital Speeches offering. The ability to read a speech—or read along with the delivery—this’ll be instructive to speechwriters, and more interesting for readers. So expect to see some YouTube URLs at the bottom of speeches we have video for.

Is a VSOTD print publication still relevant in an Internet-era and, if so, why?

Take it from the guy who searches the World Wide Web for speeches—there’s still no other central, reliable source of good speeches out there. So as relevant as speeches still are—and I think they’re as relevant as ever—Vital Speeches is still important.   Speeches are long and hard to read online. I don’t see The New Yorker going online-only, and I don’t see Vital Speeches going that way either.   The magazine is also important a big, fat, friendly physical embodiment of a broader community of influential people and the people who help them communicate. That community will probably thrive mostly online, and I hope very much that it grows to the point that we can even have Vital Speeches gatherings someday.  

VSOTD used to be bi-weekly and now it’s a monthly. Is that a reflection of the quality of speeches or simply a reaction to production and printing costs?    

That decision was made before my time, but my understanding is that the move didn’t affect the number of speeches we carry every month—just cut the frequency of publication, which did help with costs. I think it was a good move. One of the reasons I don’t subscribe to The New Yorker is that the darn thing stacks up on me. If you launched that magazine today, you’d never in a million years do it weekly. I think VS is a natural monthly.  

What else are you doing at McMurry to connect with speechwriters and speech givers?

I mentioned Vital Speeches is on Twitter and YouTube and LinkedIn sites. I also blog and podcast at VSOTD.com and we offer news, ideas and opinions on rhetoric there. We want Vital Speeches to be the hub the rhetoric community has never had.

I know you’re passionate about speeches but you also have a personal writing project you’re working on based on your recent motorcycle trip to the Canadian maritime islands. Tell us about that.

Yes, on my personal blog, writingboots.typepad.com I wrote a serial account of that trip, to explain to my five-year-old daughter, when she grows up, why her 40-year-old dad risked his life (and to some extent her childhood) by taking off on a 4,600 mile motorcycle journey. But that seems long ago to me now. I’m up to my ears in speeches, vital and otherwise—and happy to be here.

European Commission Speech: A Showcase in Structure, Language

I was talking with a friend about the state of international speeches the other day and he said that, in his opinion, most international speeches are missing some of the same attributes of those given in the U.S.: quotes, anecdotes, statistics. Those little things that often give a speech life. The speeches for the most part, he said, were workmanlike and without embellishments.

So I went looking for some examples. Almost immediately I ran across one that fit that mold. What surprised me, though, was that it was also a great example of structure and language, a model of how to write a perfectly good problem-solution speech even if you don't use some of the stylistic add-ons so common in the U.S.

The speech is from José Manuel Durão Barroso, president of the European Commission and was given in Prague on March 2. The European Commission is "the executive brance of the European Union.  The body is responsible for proposing legislation, implementing decisions, upholding the Union's treaties and the general day-to-day running of the Union," according to Wikipedia.org. The speech was given to celebrate and highlight the successes in the five years since the EC membership was englarged.

Barroso begins with what seems a typical "thank you." But five paragraphs later, he's still at it, thanking those in the audience. My initial thought was that he stayed at that part just a bit too long. And then at the last minute, he explains his reasoning.

"I feel it is important today to highlight these facts up-front and clearly," he says. "Particularly as the consequences of the global financial and economic crisis work their way through our societies to devastating effect.

"If we are to continue to realise the full potential of the European Union during these difficult times, a basic condition must be respected: that coherence and solidarity are not pushed to one side. On the contrary, they should be reinforced."

And a thesis is born: the importance of member states to avoid nationalistic measures that will undermine all the good work the EC has accomplished.

This is a nice bit of style. Pump the audience up, congratulate them on their work and then explain why they need to keep it up. But he's not finished. In fact, he's just getting started showing the structural components of a good problem-solution speech.

First, Barroso defines the problem. Then he presents the alternative solutions to the problems. These are straw man descriptions that he can quickly - but effectively - knock down. Then he provides his solution and reinforces it with a nice emotional reminder that the enlargement of the EC coincided with the 20-year anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall.

So in a sense, this is a workmanlike speech so far. What sets this speech apart is his language, a refreshing mix of evocative wording and sentence variation that helps the audience stay engaged.

After mentioning the amount of money being spent to shore up lagging economies, for example, he says: "These are large sums of money, showing the EU is serious about solidarity. And the Commission will always be on the side of those who want to make solidarity a reality for our citizens."

No one can argue with that.

And later he gives us this nice line: "As businesses fail, and job losses mount, the siren voices of economic nationalism are making themselves heard again, as if we have learned nothing from the 1930s." Followed by a quick one-two punch: "But there is one small problem for those hoping economic nationalism will protect them: it won't."

In all, this speech is a success. Great language. Great sentence variation. Great, classic structure. It may not have quotes and anecdotes and jokes, but at this rate, who cares. It gets the job done.

Biden's Speech: Built on "You"

There’s a curious distinction in the most recent speech I posted about below (from McCain) and Sen. Joe Biden’s speech when he was announced as Barack Obama’s running mate: their respective use of the words “you” and “I.” It’s difficult to make any broad generalizations about the candidates from just two talks, but tracking the way the two candidates use these words differently will be illuminating as the election heats up.

And looking at them here – with these two speeches – gives us an interesting (albeit brief) glimpse about personalities and the way these two men approach their audiences.

I was taught – several years ago – a fundamental lesson about speechwriting that I still try to use today: Talk more about the audience and less about yourself. One of the ways you do that is by making sure you literally use the word “you” in your talk a lot more than you use the word "I." Whenever I teach speechwriting, I ask students to go back and see how many “yous” they put into their speech. If there’s not one every paragraph or so, they should rewrite.

Why? Three reasons. One, the exercise ensures the speaker/writer is focused on the audience. Forcing yourself to write the word “you” also forces you to think about what your audience wants and needs to hear, what their interests are, what the touchpoints are.

Second, it’s so much warmer than always talking about yourself with the word “I.” You know this instinctively. Some people are always lacing their language with “I did this” and “I did that.” Most politicians, I would guess, do this quite a bit. They do, after all, have to explain themselves and their votes on a regular basis.

The third reason for introducing a lot of “you's” into your speech is to keep the audience’s attention. Here’s an example of that. Remember in school that one teacher who just loved to call on students, by name, and ask them questions about what they were supposed to have read the night before? We all had one. They were hated people because they forced you to pay attention. (Can you believe teachers would stoop that low as to expect us to pay attention?) Which student would, after all, want to daydream and be caught off guard – and embarrassed – when the teacher called their name?

Audiences are similar. If you talk to them – and lace your language with the word “you” – they are apt to pay more attention. Which of these phrases are warmer and more appealing?
•    I want to speak briefly about the issues …
•    I want you to know …

The second one is because it’s more audience-centric. The first is from McCain’s speech; the second from Biden’s. In fact, doing a quick analysis of McCain’s speech versus Biden’s is extremely revealing. What a contrast in styles!

McCain’s talk referenced below is 1,118 words long, a short speech by most measures. He uses the word “you” 11 times, or once every 101 words.

By contrast, Biden used the word “you” a whopping 69 times or once every 24 words for his 1,667-word talk. He outpaced McCain by 4X on the "you" factor.

Let’s look the word “I.” McCain referenced himself with the word “I” 28 times, or once every 39 words. Biden used the “I” word 27 times, or once every 61 words.

Now, there’s more that goes into how an audience will react to a speech besides the “you/I” ratio. But it is one measure I use to evaluate a speech. Chalk this one up to Biden. We’ll see if McCain’s speechwriting crew tries to make him warmer and more audience-centric in the days ahead and whether the notoriously loquacious Biden can maintain his warmth.

Canadian Speech Does the Job

It's not often I get to see speeches from across the border in Canada. But this one popped up and I'm glad it did. What an interesting speech this is. Full of detail. Skimpy on classical rhetorical devices. Long. And effective? Probably, but not for the traditional reasons.

The speech is from The Honourable Iona Campagnolo, the Lt. Governor of British Columbia to open the third session of the 38th Parliament. It does, in many ways, follow a traditional course. After opening with a tribute to those who passed away over the past year, she gives the audience the traditional "here's what I'm going to say" nugget. Five items that the government will focus on.

And she follows that with a straight-forward attack on each of those five items by setting it up with the nice set of declarative statements: "At the heart of the government's agenda lies this simple question: What can we do today to secure the future for our children and grandchildren."

She immediately launches into what has become a mandatory statement in politics today: the bipartisanship statement. Instead of letting it sit out there by itself, though, she includes it in a very effective triple: "This is a time for partnership not partisanship, for boldness not trepidation, for action not procrastination."

And then the five issues. And, oh boy, did she cover them. In detail. Lots of stats and figures in here. Some nice  statements, too, that could easily be picked up by media. And here is the strength of this speech. It seems, in some ways, to be written more for posterity than for immediate consumption which typically goes against the grain of good speechwriting.

Point in case, it's long. Somewhere around 7,000 words or about an hour long. Lots of sore bums and fidgety people after that, I'm guessing. And, as mentioned, the speech is a bit skimpy on the traditional rhetorical devices that engage audiences: sentence variation, rewriting stats and figures,alliteration, word plays, rhythmic triads, etc. There are some rhetorical questions. A few short sentences. But on the whole, the speech seems to fall into a sing-song pattern with a traditional subject-verb-object sentence structure.

For the audience, this might have been difficult. But (and here's why I'm not quick to say it was ineffective) it did a very nice job of laying out the issues and what the government's position is on them. And it did an excellent job of providing material that could be quoted wholesale by the media. That is no small task when you're also trying to write for the ear. 

You'll have to ask the politicos from BC whether the speech covered all the things it should have. And here is one -- and now a second -- critique from that standpoint. But it did cover the things it did very well. And that's good enough.

Bush Speech Fails to Warm

OK. So I'm a stickler when it comes to the virtues of warming up an audience. Some don't. Some speakers launch right in by telling stories or relating funny anecdotes. I've done it myself.

BUT … and this is the key … I've only done that when the audience members already had a mostly favorable view of me. I didn't have to warm them up.

Compare that to the jarring beginning of President Bush's wooden address to the nation on Jan. 10. Already down in the polls – I mean, way down in the polls – with an electorate that thinks his strategy in Iraq has failed and that has no confidence in him as a leader – he starts off his "new way forward" speech in the most impersonal way possible.

 "THE PRESIDENT: Good evening. Tonight in Iraq, the Armed Forces of the United States are engaged in a struggle that will determine the direction of the global war on terror -- and our safety here at home. The new strategy I outline tonight will change America's course in Iraq, and help us succeed in the fight against terror. "

Um. OK. That's kind of like trying to get a woman who you've stood up twice before at the wedding chapel to go through the whole shebang again by saying: "Tonight, thousands of couples are engaged to be married for a life of wedded bliss. The marriage I have outlined for us will change your life forever."

Maybe it will and maybe it won't. First, you'll have to get her to the chapel. President Bush, in many ways, was still standing on the front stoop, trying to plead his case twenty minutes after he started to a potential partner that never even opened the door.

And why would Americans open the door for him? He gave them no reasons to listen from the very beginning. The newscasters on CNN pointed out ahead of the speech that President Bush was giving this speech from the White House library in hopes of giving it a warmer feel. Too bad the words didn't match the setting.

Instead of the wooden recitation of the obvious that he did present, how about instead trying to curry a little favor with the American people by acknowledging up front that he knows they're concerned? That he knows American men and women are in harms way? That he realizes many American worry that the wheels have come off the freedom express and the whole thing is careening toward a deep chasm?

Acknowledging the audience's concerns is a good way to get from arms-folded stoicism to ears-opened engagement. Unfortunately, at the end of his 20 wooden minutes of prime time rhetoric (apologies to Aristotle), the bride was no closer to walking down the aisle than before.