Back in 2009 while working on Confessions of A Public Speaker, I wrote this post asking for speaking disaster stories. Nearly 60 people replied, and some emailed them to me privately. The best ten, including some from famous people, appeared in the book. Until recently this post was buried on another blog, but I’ve reposted it here.
If you have a good story to share, please leave a comment.
To get things started, I’m a veteran speaker and here are some of my own public speaking disasters:
I suck at math (The Hague, Netherlands, @CHI 2000). At the CHI conference I and some friends ran a live design competition called Interactionary. 4 teams of designers (from IBM, Razorfish, Sapient and U of Malmö) competed live on stage in front of a crowd of 800 people and were scored by famous judges in real time. At the end we announced the winners and took questions. Someone yelled out that our scores were wrong, which prompted the audience to start yelling and booing us – things got out of control and I had to end the session early. They were right – we announced the correct scores later that day.
Audience teaches me a lesson in front of 400 people ( San Francisco, 2007, @Etech). I made the mistake of claiming that the word architect is derived from the word arch, as in the people who make arches. Not sure where I read it (I did read it somewhere), but it turns out to be bogus. As soon as I finished my talk, Tom Coates stood up gleefully and called me on it as the first question. Blam. That sucked. (We joked about it later over drinks – he apologized, even though he was right).
“Lets start 20 minutes late with gear that doesn’t work” (San Francisco 2008, @Adobe Software). On book tour in SF, I spoke at an Adobe office with the worst tech guy I’ve ever met. I arrived 30 minutes early, but 20 minutes after I was supposed to start they were still sorting out their sound system, with various shrugs at my questions on why their system sucked so much. I spoke with a 2 second echo delay in my headset (required so 5 people could listen in remotely) the entire time, to an audience of maybe 15 people that blamed me for starting so late.
I piss off a hostile and drunk audience (Cambridge 2008, @Ignite). This first Boston Ignite was at a bar worth studying for the worst place to do public speaking (Tommy Doyle’s). The small stage is dwarfed by the much larger bar area, meaning as the speaker I could hear the roar of the bar much better than myself or the audience. And since the crowd had been drinking for 2 hours before I arrived, an inevitable heckler yelled out, with an esoteric complaint about my mention of Crick & Watson without mentioning Rosalind. I made a joke about having discovered the feminist section of the audience, and it all went downhill from there. Mike and Marlowe, the organizers (and my friends!) asked me to speak again to close the night, despite my protests based on how much I’d drunk to get over the opening session, I eventually said yes. I believe I rambled something about Michelangelo and creativity but it’d be best to ask someone who was there. Actually spare me more embarrassment and don’t ask.
The problems of being uni-lingual (Kiev, Ukraine 2008). Being translated is cool if it’s done simultaneously like at the U.N. But silly me, I didn’t think to ask. And in Ukraine I was surprised to learn they were doing live translation, but with the translator on stage. On the fly I had to divide my material in half, as it takes twice as long to do anything if you have to wait for every word you say to be translated. Most exhausting full day seminar ever.
“Please ignore the 120 decibel fire alarm” (Port of Spain, Trinidad). Halfway through my talk the fire alarm goes off. I can see the hotel staff and firemen running in a panic in the hallway behind the audience, but they can’t see it. Do I tell them what I see? Or play it cool and ignore the fact and try to speak over the alarm? I did the later. Talk about a distracted audience – at least no one slept through my talk.
If you take a minute to share a story, you can win:
Best story wins $100 gift amazon.com gift certificate
Two runner ups get gets $50 each
Any story can win inclusion in the book (you’ll get an acknowledgment & a free copy)
Instant therapy – you’ll feel better after you share, I swear! I do!
Comments are still open if you have a good story to share.
One of the goals of the book is to talk about things going wrong in public speaking. Few books ever mention how often things go wrong, even for experienced speakers, and I want to make sure these stories get told.
Leave your story of a public speaking disaster! It can be something that happened to you or something you saw or heard happen to someone else. You can win from a pool of $200 in prizes.
To help get things started, here’s some of my own public speaking disasters:
I suck at math (The Hague, Netherlands, @CHI 2000). At the CHI conference I and some friends ran a live design competition called Interactionary. 4 teams of designers (from IBM, Razorfish, Sapient and U of Malmö) competed live on stage in front of a crowd of 800 people and were scored by famous judges in real time. At the end we announced the winners and took questions. Someone yelled out that our scores were wrong, which prompted the audience to start yelling and booing us – things got out of control and I had to end the session early. They were right – we announced the correct scores later that day.
Audience teaches me a lesson in front of 400 people ( San Francisco, 2007, @Etech). I made the mistake of claiming that the word architect is derived from the word arch, as in the people who make arches. Not sure where I read it (I did read it somewhere), but it turns out to be bogus. As soon as I finished my talk, Tom Coates stood up gleefully and called me on it as the first question. Blam. That sucked. (We joked about it later over drinks – he apologized, even though he was right).
“Lets start 20 minutes late with gear that doesn’t work” (San Francisco 2008, @Adobe Software). On book tour in SF, I spoke at an Adobe office with the worst tech guy I’ve ever met. I arrived 30 minutes early, but 20 minutes after I was supposed to start they were still sorting out their sound system, with various shrugs at my questions on why their system sucked so much. I spoke with a 2 second echo delay in my headset (required so 5 people could listen in remotely) the entire time, to an audience of maybe 15 people that blamed me for starting so late.
I piss off a hostile and drunk audience (Cambridge 2008, @Ignite). This first Boston Ignite was at a bar worth studying for the worst place to do public speaking (Tommy Doyle’s). The small stage is dwarfed by the much larger bar area, meaning as the speaker I could hear the roar of the bar much better than myself or the audience. And since the crowd had been drinking for 2 hours before I arrived, an inevitable heckler yelled out, with an esoteric complaint about my mention of Crick & Watson without mentioning Rosalind. I made a joke about having discovered the feminist section of the audience, and it all went downhill from there. Mike and Marlowe, the organizers (and my friends!) asked me to speak again to close the night, despite my protests based on how much I’d drunk to get over the opening session, I eventually said yes. I believe I rambled something about Michelangelo and creativity but it’d be best to ask someone who was there. Actually spare me more embarrassment and don’t ask.
The problems of being uni-lingual (Kiev, Ukraine 2008). Being translated is cool if it’s done simultaneously like at the U.N. But silly me, I didn’t think to ask. And in Ukraine I was surprised to learn they were doing live translation, but with the translator on stage. On the fly I had to divide my material in half, as it takes twice as long to do anything if you have to wait for every word you say to be translated. Most exhausting full day seminar ever.
“Please ignore the 120 decibel fire alarm” (Port of Spain, Trinidad). Half way through my talk the fire alarm goes off. I can see the hotel staff and firemen running in a panic in the hallway behind the audience, but they can’t see it. Do I tell them what I see? Or play it cool and ignore the fact and try to speak over the alarm? I did the later. Talk about a distracted audience – at least no one slept through my talk.
If you take a minute to share a story, you can win:
Best story wins $100 gift amazon.com gift certificate
Two runner ups get gets $50 each
Any story can win inclusion in the book (you’ll get an acknowledgment & a free copy)
Instant therapy – you’ll feel better after you share, I swear! I do!
Lets see what you’ve got – it’s an easy way to help me with this project. Please do.
As research for the book, I’ve been collecting stories of things going wrong. From hecklers, to equipment failures, to tough crowds.
Today I’ve heard one of the best stories of things going wrong. It’s a great story of what he calls a hell gig.
Comedian Colin Quinn gets invited to speak at Robert De Niro’s birthday party, and nearly everything that can goes wrong, goes wrong, in front of dozens of major celebrities like Robin Williams, Harvey Kietel, Billy Crystal and others.
If you have a speaking disaster to share for possible inclusion in my book, leave a comment.
Everyone talks about how this room or that room was “a tough room” or a “tough crowd”. What makes one crowd tough and another one easy? Sometimes I think it’s mostly the speaker trying to explain why they didn’t do as well as they’d have liked, and the toughness of the crowd is an easy target.
I’d argue you can’t know how tough a crowd is or not unless you get there early enough to see another speaker present – only then can you calibrate how good they were, with how quiet or hostile the crowd was in response. With a sample size of 1 – you and your talk – you don’t have enough data to say anything about the crowd’s toughness.
I think often the tough crowd is created by the speaker not being informed enough about what’s going on in the room. What are they mad about? Why are they so quiet?
Here’s some advice on tough crowds:
Every audience has a vibe – know what it is. Some professions, countries, and groups are quieter or more reserved than another. Ask other people who have spoken at the group, or ask the host. It might seem tough to you, but entirely normal to them. Calibrate your expectations.
Know the things that make them mad, and avoid. Every company or industry has words they hate or facts they don’t want to hear. For example, mentioning Google at Microsoft, or Microsoft at Google, is sure to provoke a response. Choose stories and examples carefully.
Nothing makes an audience happier than talking about what they came to hear. Perhaps they’re upset because of recent news, layoffs or a product failing in the marketplace. If there’s some constructive way you can work their true issues into your session, you can relieve the pressure they’re feeling.
There is always someone in the crowd who hates you the least. Find the people who seem most positive or active and give them as much of your attention and eye contact. Rewarding their positive responses will encourage them to keep doing it, and possibly help others in the audience follow along.
What are other factors that make crowds tough? And what are counter moves speakers should know? I’d love to hear your stories on tough crowds you’ve faced and what you learned (or didn’t 🙂
I was invited to speak at Microsoft’s Asian Pacific Leadership conference last week, an internal employee only event, and spoke in the McKinley room to a swell crowd of about 300 people. It was a nice event – kudos to all the organizers.
At the end of the talk, late in Q&A, someone asked about schedule estimation. You know, tricks for how to better predict how long things take.
After hemming and hawing, I mentioned wideband delphi, a good technique for teams.
The gentleman asking the question looked confused. I asked the audience. No one had heard of it either.
So I then say the last thing you should say:
“Oh. Just Google it.”
The entire crowd gave me a good spirited “booooo”. Had there been a list of 5 things not to say, other than to ask about Vista PR or Zune marketshare, this would have been top of the list.
Which I thought was embarrassing, but funny. I find it funny when I do really innocent, but stupid things. I apologized, and felt bad, but it is in it’s way, comedy. A few people yelled out “Live Search!” to try and help me out. But I’d already blown it.
Hey, this stuff happens, especially during the spontiniety of Q&A.