Rethinking Presentations: Why You Should Stop Treating Presentations like Lectures

Photo Credit: PeterpenPhoto

During my years of teaching teenagers, I have learned an important principle about trying to teach or otherwise foster knowledge in the world: 

When teaching, those doing most of the mental work during your lesson are the ones doing most of the learning. 

By this principle, if you want to teach something, then it is best to put them, not you, in the driver’s seat. To do so, position them to do most of the mental work during your lesson.

For example, take a classroom setting. In a lecture, the teacher does the most work: talking and thinking about how to explain things. Students are left with the mostly passive activity of listening (sometimes with some mild active activities like taking notes). ‘

Thus, lectures are designed to teach teachers, not the students, which is exactly backwards from what is supposed to do. I remember hearing this from many presenters: the act of preparing and then giving a presentation teaches them so much about the topic than anyone from their audience will ever be able to glean from it. This is because they are the ones doing most of the mental work. 

This is similar in a workplace environment: presentations are one of the worst approaches to teach anything. If you want someone to learn or reflect on something you yourself have learned, it might be helpful to pause to reflect: 

How did I learn this material, and how can I replicate that process during the time I have? 
What kind of environment or activities would work to have my participants explore the activity on their own? How can I produce that kind of environment?  

These would likely give you ideas for how to make interactive lessons where your participants, not you, are doing most of the active thinking. 

In regular conversations, the principle applies the same. If you are talking with someone about a life problem, have them do most of the talking or other forms of thinking. In my experience, too many people interject and go into a type of lecture mode when they sense they have something to teach someone. 

Not only do you not always have something to “teach” when only hearing a few short sentences about someone’s life, but more importantly, even if you do have something to teach, asking questions to get them to think it through themselves is almost always a better way to teach that thing. As you ask questions and hear them out, you can get them to come to your suggestion on their own terms. 

Whispers Among the Stones (A Short Story) 

It all started the day my parents moved us to the cemetery to save money. We would hide here among the stones at night and beg out in the streets during the day. 

We had nothing, but the little we had decreased every day. On the streets, most people would ignore us as they walked by. I would walk along the path looking for someone who might at least speak with me or do anything but stare straight ahead as if I did not exist. 

No one chooses to sleep in a cemetery. Only us and the untold dead. 

I saw a former classmate walk down the street. I shouted and followed him. After several blocks he turned around to acknowledge me. I could see the horror and sadness in his face as he had looked at what I had become. 

It got worse overtime. We got less and less energy. We would beg closer to the cemetery and eventually just along the road right outside. Few people came by here, but we couldn’t make it much further. Our bodies wasted into our skeletons as we got more and more desperate for food. 

Sometimes we couldn’t even muster the ability to leave the cemetery. We just sat there looking into the city that had treated us as if we were already dead. 

(If you would like to read more short stories, you can browse them here.)

What Is Power: Three Understandings of Power in Society

Photo Credit: Aarón Blanco Tejedor

I have spoken to two friends who each have offered an interesting take on what it means to be in a position of power in society. 

One friend said that he sometimes thinks of power in terms of who has to bear the consequences of mistakes: Those who are powerful in society (whether through wealth, status, clout, etc.) only have to suffer from their own mistakes; whereas, a less powerful person is someone much more they likely will have to suffer from both their mistakes and the mistakes of those who have power over them. 

I find this to be true: the more marginalized in society can often be disproportionately hurt by the bad decisions of others, whether that be governmental policies, managers/employers, or whoever. 

Another friend added that the powerful are often shielded from their own mistakes. The wealthy can often afford to make more mistakes with their money and still have more resources to try again, for example. Often those with lower incomes have less leniency to take risks and make mistakes. And when the extremely powerful make mistakes, governments or society itself can often swoop in to save them, considering their success necessary for society to keep going. The less powerful usually get no such luxury

So, power can offer protection from the mistakes of others and also a cushion from your own mistakes: a type of protective layer if you will. 

In addition to liking both of these definitions, I also see power in terms of being forced to understand the perspectives of others in order to be successful in your endeavors in life. Those with less power are often forced to have to understand and consider the perspectives of those with power over them in order to meet their own goals. 

The powerful can remain ignorant of what those with less power than them think. They don’t have to consider others’ perspective to be successful in what they seek. 

And many with power don’t: they never cultivate the skills necessary to listen to, learn from, and incorporate the perspective of those with less power than them, because they don’t have to. In some cases, overtime, they don’t foster the skills of listening or empathy, becoming used to dictating to others who listen to them. 

For them, listening is a choice, in contrast to those with less power for whom listening is often a necessity. Thus, the powerful’s listening skills can atrophy over the course of their lives because they do not choose to cultivate it. 

All of these definitions have merits, approaching the similar aspects of what it means to have power from different angles. Each demonstrates the nuances of how power shields people from the harmful impacts of others and oneself like a protective bubble. And from each, there is something important to learn. 

No matter where you are in life, it can be important to choose to listen and do what it takes to learn from the perspectives of others. Like the first definition implies, this includes thinking about how your actions may hurt or otherwise negatively impact those around you. If you are in a position where you are not doing that regularly, that could likely be because you actually have a type of power in that situation. If you are not intentionally listening to others and incorporating them into your life, then you should start doing so, before those skills atrophy. 

 Listening to Your Inner 5-Year Old

Too many adults think that being a healthy, functioning adult requires suppressing their inner child. Our inner child is trying to find a state in which our needs are met, and we should be attune to the child within us and learn from him or her.

This is particularly important when your inner child is throwing a tantrum. Instead of just saying, “No, these feelings are bad; I need to move on from them,” pausing and determining why our inner child is upset may be more beneficial. What need does he or she feel is not being met? Learning about that needs tells you something about yourself and how you are relating to the world around you.

As an adult, you have more tools to decide the best way to meet that need. Needs are very rarely invalid, though, so usually there is a grain of truth to what your inner child is screaming.

Maybe there is a more productive way to meet your needs. To meet their need for attention, little children, for example, may scream and shout in a tantrum, but your adult self may know better, more productive ways to develop relationships that meet one’s need for attention and love. At the same time, as an adult, you can better understand and evaluate why you have a need for attention in the first place: what may be lurking underneath that in your psyche like a loved one you felt betrayed you or whose affections were insincere. From that, you can find a way to work on the root cause at the source.

Little children usually have not developed the ability to do any of this work, but your adult self has more tools to analyze the situation and come out with an appropriate, life-affirming strategy for how to meet your needs. Your adult self also has more tools to advocate for your needs in the world, whether that be constructive conversations with those around you about how you feel or moving into environments that might better meet your needs.

Like a canary in the coal mine, though, your inner child will tell you quickly and persistently that you seem to have an unmet need, often before your adult self realizes it. The two can work together then. Your child to alert you to your unmet needs, and your adult self to diagnose why and come up with an effective way to meet them.