THE EYES JUST MIGHT HAVE IT

Of all the body language tips that speaking coaches impart, there’s one MIA:  The eyes. 

Presenters are trained to rehearse-rehearse-rehearse.  Know your content.  Use appropriate hand gestures and emphases.  Forget the PowerPoint.  And train your eyes on a specific spot in the audience.

What’s forgotten today, for speakers and for anyone who communicates at any time, is the importance of the eyes.  In U.S. culture, looking down, staring, even a diffident gaze signals a non-listening stance, sometimes to the extent of inauthenticity.  That i-behavior can be seen in meetings, during one-on-one conversations, even in small groups.

Why? 

First, it’s hard to hold a confident and respectful gaze for a longer period of time.  [Try it.] 

Second, we’re very accustomed to looking here and there – at our laptops, on our smartphones, at the whiteboard … anywhere, but at the chairperson or speaker.  Some smart meeting organizers ban technology; it makes for a much more productive event. 

Third, because so many of us work virtually or remotely and don’t have to interface with folks every day, we forget.  The i-behavior is endemic and irritating, for sure, but how many of us notice it?  [Probably because we’re all guilty.]

Why eyes?  [We could list all the “eye” quotes, but we’ll spare you.]  It’s all about bonding, pure and simple, whether with an audience of 1,500 or during an intimate conversation.  To connect emotionally, experts recommend eye contact (without fussing or fidgeting) for 60 to 70 percent of the time an individual’s engaged.  Today’s standard – from 30 to 60 percent – is one good reason why communications doesn’t always resonate or persuade.

There is a caveat, of course:  Other cultures, other countries consider eye contact rude, unapproachable.  The Japanese, for instance, lower their eyes as a gesture of respect when speaking to a superior.  Direct  gazes are unacceptable in certain Muslim areas.

What eye-habit works everywhere on Earth?  Forget the eye rolls.

WHEN WORDS DON'T WORK

As very verbal communicators, we find it hard to admit that, sometimes, our words don’t work.  

On a complicated, intricate change.  When statistics rule (and they do, these days, very often).  If emotions need to drive the initiative.  And if, plain and simple, a shape or color or legacy symbol says an eye-full.

Marketers call it the visual hammer, the one image that instantly relates to a brand or a company.  We think of Coke’s bottle, the Nike swoosh, the Tiffany blue box, Christian Louboutin’s red soles, even Paul Newman as real-life examples.

Yet when do you abandon words for a picture or symbol?  In packaging, it’s easy (or easier, ‘scuse us; the uniqueness of the look and feel can be a long time in the making).  Makers of Talenti gelato, for instance, scored a hit in the super-super premium ice cream category in part due to its clear plastic container, a transparency no other manufacturer can boast.  In older brand news, the Traveler’s red umbrella denoted the safety and security of its insurance products, a claim other institutions make in words and ads. 

In the practice of internal and external communications, there is a right balance between words and images.  The interplay works best, in our opinion, when a major initiative is being launched, one that must infiltrate every employee’s and, often, many outsiders’ psyches to be successful.  Sometimes, it’s a powerful “sans hyperbole” slogan – say, unusual acronyms or five to six words – that exhorts readers and watchers to do something.  For others, it first appears as a fabricated look that invades our eyes, and asks “what is this?”  and “why should I know?,” sparking the sense of intrigue that drives us to want more. 

It’s not an easy task.  We’ve spent hours and days and weeks thinking, free-associating, dreaming in our slippers, piling through content-laden magazines and thesauri, and using such tomes as A Technique for Producing Ideas (James Webb Young).  The answer?  You’ll know it when you read/see it.

WHILE IN THE FIELD ...

Marketing execs (and other leader types) are now crowing about their latest discovery:  Immersion assignments.

It usually starts with a need for intelligence.  Some examples of knowledge seeking:  How does middle America shop, dine, and/or drink?  What must hotels in faraway places do to create a feeling of home away from home, yet with a local flavor?  What’s a typical day for a restaurant employee … especially before and after s/he clocks in?

Then the visits begin.  One lodging company relocates its senior-most leaders to exotic locales for a month; immersion-ers work with employees, government officials, other citizen groups to determine what kind of tweaks the brand needs to thrive in that area.  After identifying a top-secret town that most closely emulates its client’s target market, a slew of ad agency pros visit it every month, adding to focus group intel and other research findings.

In a sense, this latest twist on “getting to know you” resembles some fairly recent trends.  Like hiring cultural anthropologists to stake out a desirable cohort.  Or spending time with a family or group of families to understand their fears and dreams, habits and wishes.  Even on-the-road onboarding trips for new hires at major corporations.

If this is, indeed, such a valuable pursuit, why not more – and more often?  What keeps each of us, whether desk bound at headquarters or road warrior consultant, from, essentially, gaining a great bead on our stakeholders, our clients, our milieu?  Definitely, “no time” and “no permission” are common answers.  Yet, when the benefits clearly outweigh the effort and expense, that, in itself, impels us to put together a business case … and sell it to upper management. 

Just ask Jane Goodall.  

READY, SET ... DRAW!

There’s something to be said for doodling during meetings.

According to Presidential biographers, our nation’s leaders indulged – a lot.  JFK drew sailboats; Reagan, cowboys and hats.  And Eisenhower, pictures of himself as a younger, stronger citizen.

The growing presence of whiteboards in the office, not to mention the increased number of virtual meetings, begs for white paper and pen (or pencil) to illustrate.   Drawing while otherwise occupied might, for sure, be a symptom of boredom; at the same time, it allows us to focus on what’s being said.

That kind of child’s play appears in other parts of work life:  mainly, in those corporations where imagination and innovation seem to be treasured.  HP devoted Friday post-lunch afternoons to thinking and tinkering, while 3M’s famous 15 percent “to do your own thing” came up with such hits as Post-it notes.  Today, Apple, LinkedIn, and Fusenet, among others, allow techies specific amounts of time to dream, develop, and create products or initiatives that will further the business’ goals.

Wait, though:  True experimentation, very often, results in failure after failure after failure … before netting any type of success.  How lenient are companies in allowing their best and brightest to continue to think after a series of no-gos?  Will goals and structured space generate great ideas that turn into worthwhile and revenue-producing products?   Are the innovators among us seduced by the 9-to-5 and accompanying benefits?

Or what we’d suggest:  Let’s decamp to a nursery school or kindergarten and watch, for a few hours, how children play.  What they do in terms of toys, space, and each other to create an environment in which they are genuinely happy, expressive, and, yes, inventive.  

It’s something we’ve lost.  But we – and our employers - can regain it. 

How?  Your answers more than welcome at cbyd.co.

KILLING US NOT-TOO-SOFTLY

We’re tired, just plain tired, of our opinions being asked.

For the first, oh, dozen times or so, it’s ego-satisfying to learn someone wants to hear what we think.  And when the asker combines it with an incentive, boy, we’re so there.  Who wouldn’t want a free bagel or a dozen from Einstein, or the chance to win $$ in a retail splurge spree?  Or a coupla dozen thousand miles on an airline?

In the last year or two, we’ve stopped responding.  To be completely transparent, the incentives aren’t there anymore.   [We’re simply not interested in entering a drawing for another high-caloric treat when, really, the establishment just wants to get a fix on our personal data.  Now that’s another story.  For another blog.]

The real truth, though, is that today, every time we stop in a grocery store, shop online, or get something fixed, a survey’s awaiting.  And many don’t take “no” for an answer.  We’ve been bombarded online, then via robocalls and finally land lines, for instance, from car dealerships … ironic when we already told the salesperson we weren’t interested in a “special” service.  When that happens, we hang up, and not so politely say “no.”  In a different language. 

More than a few gurus have cautioned about survey fatigue, resulting in a lower response rate and weakening the value of the questionnaire.  Others talk about respecting our time, sending clear invitations, keeping it brief, and responding to our complaints.

Yet couldn’t another underlying cause of “please sir/madame, no more” be the type of survey selected?  Usually, researchers hit us in our technological homes, from emails and online requests to mobile and social media touchpoints.    It’s hard not to speed up survey responses when we’re faced with multiple choices to a question, checking, often blindly, whatever hits us at the moment.  Or whatever sounds good.

Here’s a novel thought:  Why not talk with us, either on the phone or in person, one to one or in a small group?  For those watching an hourly clock, it’s definitely more time-consuming and expensive – the actual process as well as the analysis and reporting.  But aren’t we worth it?