|
There’s a moment at conferences that always makes me shift in my seat. It’s not the talk. The chairperson steps up, clears their throat, and begins reading a bio the speaker has… generously prepared for them. Then it starts. Titles, awards, committees, fellowships, affiliations, achievements… The audience listens politely, the way you listen to someone else’s dream: supportive, but not entirely sure what’s going on. And something subtle happens in the room. Everyone recognises the subtext: But the irony is that the more you try to prove your credibility upfront, the less the audience feels it. 💡 ONE IDEA WELLHere’s the quiet truth at the heart of all this: If your talk needs your introduction to prove your credibility, something’s off. Your authority should emerge naturally — from clarity, relevance, and the way you hold the room — not from a verbal trophy cabinet. This isn’t just feel-good philosophy. There’s real psychology behind it. 1. The Pratfall Effect (Aronson, 1966) 2. Self-promotion backfires (Rudman, 1998) 3. Warmth before competence (Cuddy, Fiske, Glick, 2008) Put simply: It’s like turning up to a first date with a list of reasons why you’re the one. 🧰 LESS MESS, MORE MESSAGEA good introduction should do one thing: Clear a path for the message. Not list job titles. Just answer three questions: Why this topic? That’s enough for the audience to lean in. And when someone else is introducing you? A sentence or two about the problem you’re solving, not the accolades you’ve collected. Let the talk earn the trust. It always does. 🖋️ TRY THISFor your next talk, write your introduction like this: 1. Begin with the problem or question you’re speaking into. 2. Add one line about why you’re connected to it. 3. Stop. 🧭 ASK YOURSELF THISIf no one mentioned my titles at all, would my message still earn the room? PS If your next talk needs a tune-up — slides, story, or structure — reply and I’ll share how I work with people 1:1. |
One idea a week to help you teach and present with more clarity, confidence, and calm. No fluff. No scripts. Just practical tools that land.
There is a right way to make a cream tea. There are, in fact, two of them, and they live forty minutes apart. In Devon, you split the scone, spread the cream, then add the jam. In Cornwall, the jam goes first. Both counties are completely certain. Neither has any doubts. I spent two weeks in the West Country recently and ate the wrong cream tea twice. This is not a piece about cream teas. 💡 ONE IDEA WELL Most medical presentations start the same way. Title slide. Speaker's name and...
Rusty put his hands on my shoulders before he asked. We were in the middle of the auditorium, the session just finished, people filing past us towards the doors. He leaned forward from the row behind, hands on my shoulders, and asked if he could give me some feedback. I said yes. People usually do, then immediately wish they hadn't. "It might not be neuro-inclusive," he said. He meant the stage. Every session at DFTB, since the very first one, we've had all three speakers and the chair sit up...
Ten years ago this week, I flew 17,000 kilometres to attend a medical conference in Dublin. I am not someone who loves large crowds. Which is a little ironic because I have spent the last decade co-organising a paediatric conference that deliberately fills a room with them. I also arrived in Dublin with a pocket full of stickers and a sheet of temporary tattoos, because my colleagues and I were trying to advertise the very first conference for a small paediatric education website we had built...