Top 10 Reasons why Powerpoint is like a bra

Yes, really.

It drives me crazy when people think of their Powerpoint* slides as their "presentation". Really, truly crunchy-monkey-nut crazy. Today, I was so annoyed at this habit that I tweeted:

The tweet rang bells with a few folks, notably Chris Atherton. Well, I do like to ring bells - so, for the list fetishists among you, here are...


The Top 10 Reasons a Powerpoint Slidedeck is Just Like a Bra.


10. It is often used out of habit or insecurity - but there are plenty of situations where it only gets in the way

9. It's possible to send one by mail, but it is empty and lifeless, so why bother?

8. Technical troubles will occur at the most embarassing moments

7. Too much decoration can distract from content

6. It's certainly pretty, but do you really want someone else's design to cover up your uniqueness?

5. People usually try to fit too much inside**

4. People think they need the support, but forget it's a restriction too

3. Given confidence, you will often make a bigger impact without one

2. You can borrow or steal someone else's, but it will never fit like your own

and finally..

1. It may look basically similar, but you should NEVER confuse it with the Real Thing

Folks, Powerpoint isn't the presentation. YOU ARE.

Got any more? Add them in the comments... Oh, and you should follow me on Twitter...


Reactions:

• Linda Wu at SixMinutes comes back with 32 Reasons a Powerpoint Slidedeck is Nothing Like a Bra. Thanks Linda!
• You can also have this list in Chinese, courtesy of ExcelPro.
• STOP PRESS! There is now even a Chinese illustrated version, I kid you not!

* Or Keynote, or whatever. I don't care. Slideware. You know.
** Oprah said 8 out of 10 ladies wear the wrong size, usually too small. And what Oprah says...

How to rehearse (or not) a presentation

Best of both worlds

How a stand-up comedian rehearses for both flexibility and confidence.

An over-rehearsed presentation - like an over-rehearsed show - can really stink. It can be so automatic that it loses touch with the audience. It becomes a polished set of actions and words and ceases to be two-way communication, a persuasive dialogue.

On stage, we know that the comic aside - the gag improvised when the scenery collapses or a cellphone in the audience rings - is usually the biggest laugh of the evening. It's because the audience knows it was one-off, one-time, authentic creativity. So should we always improvise?

Usually, no. Bluffing your way through Shakespeare (or a complex presentation) on a wing and a teleprompter will not get you far. You need the confidence to know what happens next, the experience to get you through the technically challenging parts. And that only comes from practice. Lots of practice.

Hmm. So - we are in a quandary. Authentic, spontaneous flexibility, or calm rehearsed confidence? What to do?

The answer is this: you should not rehearse your presentation, you should rehearse your presentations. Plural.

When I'm developing a stand-up routine. I have many of my gag ideas on little index cards which I can add notes to, reshuffle, tear in half, or even eat in frustration. I will stand in a room away from the world (this is embarrassing) and rant my way through the cards. I'll try every line ten different ways. I'll try ten different orders. I'll throw cards away, and dig them out of the bin. I'll try missing out this part, and go off on a stream-of-consciousness tangent expanding that section. I'll even try running the cards backwards - seriously, it can teach you a lot.

After a while, I don't need the cards much, and I can play with my material while jogging, driving, or screaming at the top of my lungs while zooming down the Autobahn on my motorcycle. (If you've ever seen a lunatic doing this, now you know it was me. It feels as mad as a brush, but it's very effective.)*

At the end, I have not just rehearsed one routine - I have rehearsed dozens of routines based on basically the same material.

This stand-up rehearsal technique works for presentations too. Play with the pieces and bang them together until you know every angle.

After a while, you will know what the best order is. You can use it for your test audience. But you will not be tied to that order...

You will have all the confidence you need, because you will have mastered your material. But you will also have the flexibility you need. You will know that there is more than one path through the presentation, and that you can cope with anything.

Most importantly, you will be able to adjust your presentation with confidence to genuinely respond to the audiences signals - making it a real two-way exchange, not some polished performance that could have been done by DVD.

Have fun!

*Actually, a shouted rehearsal is a great technique. I know classical actors who rehearse monologues by shouting them from the beach into the ocean waves. Of course, this works best if you have a Victorian greatcoat and rather wild hair.

Photo of some of my index cards by me.

(This post is based on a comment I made last year on TJ Walker's blog)

!!! More great showbiz tips for presenters here.

Wacky-pack-attack

And why not?

Choosenick put me onto this wonderful little clip:



Of course, it's a gag - but comedy is always made of truth and pain. (The truth here is that we want to celebrate our cool new toy, the pain is that we can't.) So: why not?

Everything up to the point where the guy presses the red button is possible.

So why not take it that far? Then... holographic chorus girls are tricky just now, but there are a bunch of cheap and cheesy fun effects which could replace them.

What about the little melody chips you get in birthday cards? They could play an appropriately quirky tune, celebrating the purchase (no corporate jingles, please!).

How about the tiny voice recording chips I've seen? Why not hear a pre-recorded message from your guy at the store saying "Hi Adam, this is Gary. Thanks for buying this phone - if you have any problems setting it up, call me on my direct number...."

What about the clever techniques you see in modern pop-up books?

What about a little light show with supercheap LEDs? Or a smoke bomb and laser projection on your ceiling...

Erm, well, maybe the lasers are still sci-fi, but you get the point.

Whatever the gimmick is, two things would be important:

1) The manufacturer must realise it's just a gimmick, and keep it fun.
2) It must be replayable, so you can show all your friends...

How To Do The Impossible

Advice from a comic turned businessman
A Work•Play•Experience book review

In many ways, I wish I were Andy Nulman. I pride myself that we have some things in common – a resume that includes comedy, blogging and big business; a joy in the unexpected or irreverent; and an oft-irresistible desire to drop our trousers for laughs. He’s a well-known figure (hey, he’s got his own Trivial Pursuit question), famous for his insanely successful comedy festival and equally vibrant business venture, Airborne Mobile. He also writes the occasional book, and that’s what we’re here to talk about.

Andy’s 2007 book is called How to do the Impossible. It’s a pretty interchangeable title that you could find anywhere in the business or self-help section of your bookshop, but it's clear after the first page that this is not an interchangeable book. The wee volume has Andy’s stamp all over it, his personality (as I imagine it) coming through on every page.

Like any comic, Andy Nulman knows that a few good words are better than many less select ones; and as a network content expert he knows that bandwidth is expensive. This combined wisdom gives his book its first great advantage over the rest of the pack: in his own words: IT AIN'T FAT. Like Steve Job’s speechwriter, he isn’t afraid to use monster typefaces, or evocative pictures. The result is a slim volume of giant headlines (sometimes a sentence fills a page) and pithy pics – easy, light, fun reading that you can get through in a couple of hours. Good stuff.

It’s probably also Andy’s stand-up experience that lets him get away with minimal set-up for his philosophical punchlines. While eighty percent of most business books is hard sell – convincing you that you need to change – Andy assumes he already has your attention. He eschews further brainwashing and relies mostly on his infectious energy and Justin Adler’s page-turning design to suck you into the book. By the time you look up, you’re past halfway, your buttered toast is stone cold and leathery and you might as well plunge back in.

With an introduction and four chapters, HTDTI has five acts – just like a Shakespearean play. There's also a slightly Puckish epilogue. And like all of the Bard's plots, the actual themes are robust, precious, real - and not really terribly original. That is absolutely no problem – indeed, most words of truth have been spoken before. We still need to hear them, and be convinced to act.

And Andy’s talent lies in making you listen, wake up and see the path forward – and in convincing you that you are just the chap who can walk it. That's the truly tough bit - and Andy nails it.

He’s presented the content of this book in hundreds of seminars, and it’s impossible not to see him bouncing up and down on stage as you read (I have no idea is Mr Nulman is a bouncy person, but in my head he is). And it’s equally easy to imagine his audience leaving filled with his energy and inspiration. As a reader, you’ll feel it too.

In the knots and fiddles of everyday life, it’s easy to get tangled up in the details. Beside being a fun read, How To Do The Impossible is a great way to recharge your batteries and get back on track – in just a couple of hours. Andy’s four tips apply equally well to a business person, an actor, or someone trying to create an innovative customer experience.

(If that is not enough reason to buy it, it may have novelty value as the only business book to contain almost nude pictures of a senior media-industry executive. Perhaps that is why it sells second hand at Amazon for over a hundred dollars. But never mind, you can download it here.)

Andy's TV nakedness here
Book image from the publisher's site

Improvised solutions impress customers more

Throw away the script to be more authentic

Those of us who work on the stage are fortunate indeed - for we are blessed with an immediate and clear feedback system. If we work well, we are immediately rewarded with applause or laughter. If we do poorly, we are punished with silence, or jeers, or departure. (Or with another kind of laughter. Or with people throwing things. Or with people coming up on stage and trying to punch my head. But that's another story.)

The ace bit about this phenomenon is that it often lets you know precisely which bit of your experience design is working best. It's simple - if they responded well to that bit tonight, it was good. If they didn't, it needs some work. No problems there. But what does it tell us?

Now, much to our writer's chagrin, it is often the case that the biggest laugh of the night is rewarded to an "aside" - something you say which is outside the script. This can be a quick put-down to a heckler, a humorous reaction to a cellphone going off in the house, or a rapid quip in response to collapsing scenery or colleagues.

These asides are not usually the wittiest gag of the evening. To be honest, they are not usually very funny at all. They are not rooted in your character, or in the dramatic form, and they often lack depth and/or cleverness. But if they are halfway quick, and halfway decent, they get a monster laugh. Odd, isn't it?

The crucial bit is that - because these asides arise in response to a particular unplanned situation - they are obviously unscripted. And this makes them two things. They are:

1. unique
2. authentic

They are unique because the situation was a one-off, and the audience know it will never happen that way again. That laugh will not be there in tomorrow's show - it is their laugh.

They are authentic, because they obviously came from the actor himself - not from some highly paid, uncaring jokewriter. The gag was obviously invented right here and right now, by that living person standing right there.

All too often in service experiences, we feel that the employee is working to a script. And when they leave that script to improvise a solution for us, we are deeply impressed. We feel it was our personal solution - unique and authentic, invented by a real person.

So, how often do you ditch the script in your services? Or, if you are the big cheese, how do you respond when your staff throw the book away? Is there perhaps a way you can make your customers feel that every solution is authentic and unique - just for them?

improvised first aid pic from gregor_y at flickr
ditched script pic from z1784 at flickr

Why laughter is good for innovation

You need to be joking II

Many thanks to regular reader Kat for passing on these excellent words from genius comedian Stephen Fry (Blackadder, Jeeves and Wooster, V for Vendetta etc), assisted at the close by Mr GK Chesterton:

"There is an argument that comedy is a greater public service than any other genre of art or culture: it heals divisions, it is a balm for hurt minds, it binds social wounds, exposes real truths about how life is really led. Comedy connects.... Seriousness is no more a guarantee of truth, insight, authenticity or probity than humour is a guarantee of superficiality and stupidity. Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly."

(read the complete transcript here)

I've argued before that every workplace needs at least one jester - someone who is allowed tell the bitter truth with a sweet smile. Not only is a climate of laughter good for your health and your staff's motivation, it can teach you valuable stuff.

Believe it or not, poking fun at your company's structures, habits and products is a terrific way to learn a whole lot about your set up - and make plans for the future.

The key is that humor is based on truth. If comedy builds on untruths, it might be absurd but is never truly funny. Back in 1926, H.W. Fowler put together this oft-quoted table to explain the different types of gags. If you don't have super-vision, just click the image to enlarge.







The venerable H.W. argues that humor, wit and satire promote discovery, illumination and amendment (we might say improvement), and that they are based on observation, surprise and accentuation.

Two important things to note:

Firstly, there's a strong contrast there with sarcasm, invective et al, which hurt more than they help. Avoid them, unless you are trying to topple dictators this weekend.

Secondly, are not discovery, illumination and amendment just the sort of things we need in our next innovation cycle?

As an exercise, why not let your team write some gags or a wee comic sketch about your work? Show them H.W.'s chart if you like, or just let them go crazy. (You could even get a professional to help out, e.g. this guy.) Do this not as part of your annual office party, but as part of an innovation or strategy workshop.

Sit back, hold tight, and hold your tongue. Be prepared to laugh a little, and to wince in pain, and to cry. And make notes whenever you want to do one of those things - because all three of those feelings are telling you the truth.

Minijester pic by Liquid Paper at flickr

Step 1. Steal Underpants

The Big 3 Strike Again!

It's a well known fact that there are three essential components to any hit. They are:

1. Sex
2. Humour
3. Death

The excellent KnickerPicker site combines the Big Three in a great online experience.

(The site may be NSFW if your work environment objects to underwear being sold in public. If it does, get a new job.)

At KnickerPicker, a trio of virtual ladies will model top brand underwear for you, helping you choose just the right set for your own self, or your better half. You can change the outfit, get the girl to turn round, even come closer. There is an online shop and delivery service, of course.

Go on, try it.

Here's why I like it:

1. Sex: the site uses sexy girls to sell sexy undies. Nothing new there, but it's nice that the girls come in three sizes from "ouch!" to "real woman". And the fact that you can influence the models' actions makes it a little sexier somehow. (Blush).

2. Humour: it's good clean (?) fun making the girls walk up and down and turn round, and their expressions seem beautifully ironic at times. The ladies find it fun too - Marie Claire made it their "favourite new website". Best of all, though, is the "Boy's Buying Guide" for men faced with the terrifying task of finding out her size...

3. Death: let your lady catch you spending too long with the wrong sized model, and you are in big trouble.

KnickerPicker: a great site, combining a fun experience with a genuinely useful service.

Vintage undies photo from antiques.about.com.
More about the importance of stealing underpants here.

You need to be joking

Clowns in big business

Medieval kings knew the value of a jester - someone who was allowed to say the truth, and was able to soften the blow by the skilled application of humour. They were a valuable pressure valve too - careful doses of humour can dissolve tension, and lead to honesty.

It turns out that comedians are fast-thinking types too, and can even have the occasional creative flash (at least, that's what folks tell me in the brainstorming sessions I do with executives).

Perhaps it's because we jokers are not afraid to think outside the box, because we have to be good at seeing others' points of view and are practiced at turning ideas over and over until we find an angle we can use.

Whatever the reason, the jokers in your midst can help keep everyone sane, as well as generate off-the-wall ideas. See jokester-meets-business-wiz Andy Nulman if you need any proof, or have a look at this Fast Company article on humour Professor John Morreal.

And ask yourself - who is the joker on your team?

Joker pic by kevin (iapetus) at flickr.

Comedy smooths conflict

Classroom tips for all

So, I'm visiting the primary school at Mahaut, and listening in on a young teacher with her class. It's a scorching hot day and despite her lively presentation style the pupils are slouching at their desks.

Young Teacher has two options:
1. Yell at them to sit up straight (expected result: grudging compliance, and the kids think she is a slave driver).
2. Give them a cheery suggestion of the "hey kids, let's all stand up and shake out the tiredness" variety (expected result: the kids do it, but roll their eyes, and think she is a dweeb).

Of course, like the young Tony Blair she finds a Third Way.

She gives a huge yawn, and cries "OH! I am SO tired!" Surprised, the kids all look up. "Oh! I can hardly stand," she continues. "I have to sit down!" As she staggers theatrically to a stool, the kids start to smile. The smiles turn to laughter as - bump! - her head hits the desk. And when the snoring starts, pure hysteria reigns (hey, they are seven years old). Then - another yawn, and she starts to stretch, to stand, to straighten up. Of course, the kids are right there with her - stretching, wide awake, and thoroughly impressed by their new teacher.

Good NLP, good psychology, good comedy, good job.

Or, as the kids on Dominica say, "Faaaan-tastic!"



PS Young Teacher is the lady jumping highest in this video. Her colleague on the right had just had a flood-bourne boulder take out her classroom. More on the blond lady and her work at show-me-wow.com.

The Big Three

How to guarantee a hit!

They say there are three surefire components to making a hit concept. They are:

1) SEX!
2) DEATH!
3) HUMOUR!

Actually, I should qualify that a little.

Sex can be replaced by nudity, or bare legs (or, in Japanese animation, little brief shots of little white briefs). Death need not actually occur - the threat of it is enough. And you do not always need all three to make a hit. Baywatch was sex and death with very little humour; Benny Hill was sex and humour with very little death; and Die Hard (or any other action movie) is death and humour with usually just one sex scene.

But if you can squeeze all three in to your concept, you will probably find yourself laughing all the way to the bank. James Bond is one obvious example - though his narrative structure helps.

And here's another one...

The Heart Attack Grill is a brilliant example of using experience design to make a thoroughly commoditised product - burgers and fries - into a hit. The fatty food is advertised as dangerous but "worth dying for", with burgers getting names like "The Triple Bypass" and cigarettes being sold as the ultimate desert. The staff are dressed as naughty nurses and dorky doctors. Any of course the neighbours are furious.

Sex, death and humour, folks - in a burger joint. The place is a runaway success - and they are getting eighty e-mails per hour asking for the franchise.

Look, gasp, and learn. Just keep your hands where we can see them.

(Another great example of a service using the Big Three here.)

Naughty nurse image by RocketCityPoet at flickr

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Why men need mascara

Make-up and talking to crowds

Like Boy George, I'm one of those chaps who usually has an eyebrow pencil in his jacket pocket. This is not because I am a secret Goth or New Romantic (I always preferred Black Sabbath to Duran Duran), or because I wear dresses at weekends (although, now you mention it, I often do). Nope. None of those.

I need make-up because I talk to crowds. If you are giving a big presentation, you probably need it too.

When you get up to talk to a group of people, you are there to engage them emotionally. The words you use, and even your tone of voice are far less important (10%) than what your face and body are doing. You need to emphasise those crucial message carriers - especially your hands*, face, and most especially your eyes.

Much to my own disappointment, I have very pale eyebrows. This is not a problem when talking or performing to small groups (up to about 40), but if I want to reach a bigger audience I need my trusty eyebrow pencil. (I like to use Body Shop, although it is a nuisance having to test it on my own pets when I get home.)

These three pics show the result - my darkened eyebrows allow the full and dramatic range (ahem) of my actorly skill to show through. OK, I am hamming it up, but you can see what a difference the eyebrows make if you compare them to the other pictures of me in the left sidebar. (For this role, I made up a moustache as well, whitening out the rest of my beard. I am not wearing any other makeup.)

So, if you are presenting to a group of more than about 40 people, and unless you have naturally strong eyebrows:

1. Buy an eyebrow pencil the same colour as your hair, or a mid brown if you are blond.
2. Before you go out to perform, gently rub the side of the pencil along your eyebrow, working against the direction of growth (ie outside to inside). Repeat until you have a colour you like.
3. Step back as far from the mirror as you can. Is it enough? (If it's too much, wipe some off with a tissue.)
4. Afterwards, soap and water will shift it easily.
5. If you are female, you may be able to ignore this. You either know it already, or you are secure enough to ask.

For presentations to groups of more than 100 - unless you will be projected on the big screen - you may want to use some eyeliner, powder and a touch of lip rouge as well. This is more complicated to apply - ask a pleasingly painted female person, a passing transexual or a New Romantic. They will be pleased to help.

* Steve Jobs emphasises his hands by wearing black
sweaters with the sleeves rolled up. See it here.

Mime photo by ChrisB at flickr.

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Making the (Power)point

Humour gets the message across

Did I mention that I loathe Powerpoint and all its brethren? I think I did, once or twice.

Well, comic Don McMillan says it much better than I can - and he uses Powerpoint to make his, um, point.

Enjoy!

PS: Presentation guru JD Jeffreys makes a lot of the same points in this film in a very dry style. Here he uses humour. Which presentation gets the message across better, do you think?

Image by garethjmsaunders at flickr.

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Who's the boss?

Playing for the audience - in service industries

I fight with directors. Quite a lot. Not because of any great artistic differences - I don't consider myself an artist at all - but simply because on stage I am always tempted to go for the cheap laugh, add the extra joke, ham it up for the gallery. (I know, I know. Typical attention seeker, needs to be loved, deep rooted insecurities blah blah. I'm an actor. So sue me.)

"Adam!", says the man with the megaphone, "Don't do that! Stay in character!"
"But, but," I wail, "It's funny! They LOVE it!"

Now, this is a big sin in acting, I admit. Even in comedic work. It's called being a stage-hog. My directors don't like it, my colleagues hate it, and even I am sometimes forced to accept that I must sacrifice my beloved gag for King Flipper, the greater porpoise. Ooh, but it hurts.

My problem is, I love my audience more than I love my director.

OK, so, what's this got to do with anything apart from my ego? Well, I'd like you to qv these words of deep wisdom, from Sara Cantor's wonderful "Curious Shopper" blog.

"...most employees aren't trying to make you mad. While you are a real human being, from their standpoint you are not as important a human as their boss!"

Of course, there's an obvious parallel to my stagehogginess here. My director is my boss, and he needs to keep me marching in step, for the greater good of the show. But in a customer service situation, the customer doesn't give a hoot about who's in step, doesn't care about rules and regulations. That customer is going to be happier with the rebel who is willing to drop the CI, bend the rules, give them the cheap laugh (read: amazing personal service) that they came for.

So, how does it work out in your crew? Is keeping the boss happy more important than working for the customers' happiness? Be honest, 'cos if it is, you have a big problem. In customer service, you need people who love the audience more than they love the director.

Hmm. Maybe I'm in the wrong job.

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Under pressure

High expectations: burden or spur?

Last week, I nipped over to Budapest with comic genius Alex Teubner to do a slapstick-meets-standup gig at the Hungarian capital's newest comedy venue. It was a fairly casual affair - we thought - and we agreed to do it "just for fun".

It turned out, however, that the local organiser Kinga had done an excellent PR job, and expectations were running high. Imagine my surprise when we step off the plane and see my ugly mug staring at us from the masthead of one of the city papers. Gulp! (Side note: Alex is far prettier - if rather hairy - but he doesn't have my excellent photography. There's a free PR lesson right there...)

Now, even if this wasn't the biggest newspaper in town, that sort of thing can be a lot of pressure for a performer. We certainly felt it as such.

We didn't panic, thank goodness. Well, we only panicked as far as the next bar. And although it would be tempting to tell you that the prominent publicity filled us with a steely resolve and cool professionalism, that would be an exaggeration. Instead, I personally felt that, since we had been labelled as stars we had better earn the moniker.

The result? We rehearsed perhaps a little more than we would have otherwise. Not much, but some. I certainly sweated some more. And I think we got extra-specially focussed on giving our best, as these pics show....

Before and after:
As it turns out, the show was a bit of a hit. Now some of that will be the result of our talent, our material, and our, erm, natural good looks and charm. A lot of it can be chalked up to the excellent local team. But a little bit, I think, can be directly ascribed to super-savvy Kinga (who had never seen us perform) telling the whole world "Dang, these two are good!"

I've written about star performers before, here. Such people always need the freedom to give their best.

And for some of them, sometimes, pumping public expectations can push them just that little bit further towards a true star performance. So tell the world about your stars, folks.

(PS 03.jun.07 - There's an image video with bits of the gig here.)
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Work•Play•Experience: get the book

My e-book is ready to download

Twelve show business tools for your business:

• Storyboarding
• Showing hidden values
• Prequels and sequels
• Depth and meaning
  
• Stagebuilding
• Backstage
• Light
• Costume
• Rehearsal
• Getting the lines right
• Letting stars be stars
• Timing

Download the 20 pages here. It's free.

All comments and feedback gratefully received...
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Lies, damned lies and experience design...

Truth, authenticity and show business

Right, there are two things I have to set straight. Here goes.

1. Experience design is not about pretending to be something you are not.

When I talk to people about experience design, they often get a funny look in their eyes. "Hmm," they seem to say, "that sounds awfully fake".

Experience design (or service design) is indeed about creating memorable experiences that our customers will appreciate. To do this, we engage our customers' senses to move their emotions. That makes it a whole lot like show business - so... we can brazenly steal a lot of tools and techniques from theatre and film. Lighting, costume, staging, scripts and even character work can all play a part.

This does not mean pretending to be something you are not. It means getting better at showing what you are.

This is true in "real" showbiz too. A brilliant actor like Sir Anthony Hopkins is not a dissembler. He does not pretend, he reveals, showing parts of himself that we would not usually see. Shakespeare understood this, and all his characters - even the baddest of the bad - speak the truth to the audience. And for good reason: we care about what people really are, not what they pretend to be. In experience design, we look for ways to throw the spotlight on our best work, to reveal values that the customer might otherwise have missed. But we must remain authentic. If we fake anything, the customer will know. And he will not forgive.


2. Experience design is not about making people laugh.

Let's get back to our sceptical prospective customer. Giving me a steely look, he says (probably with a Cherman accent), "Customer emotion? Ve are a serious business! Laughter vould be out of place."

I admit it, I'm a comedian. I will do pretty much anything for a cheap laugh - in fact, I just did. And I draw a lot of my experience design tools from the world of comedy. So sue me.

What this means is that many of the service design success stories that appeal to me are ones that speak to my sense of fun. I love the Geek Squad, for example. I think turning a car factory into a theme park is a scream. But I do not think that laughter or even "fun" is an essential part of experience design. No, the essential bit is emotion.

Let's take an extreme example - an undertaker. Gags would usually be out of place in that trade, but sharing emotion - stories, reminiscences, sadness, love - is very much part of the business. A good funeral director (director! Hah!) will create an experience where people are able to see their grief as part of a more complex set of feelings, and share in celebrating a life.

No, the emotions we need in experience design can be of every hue - pleasure, serenity, shock, exhilaration, awe, contentment, Gemütlichkeit, pathos... you name it. Fun is one option, but the big picture is about gut feelings, not belly laughs.

Keep the duck!

Stand-up tricks for powerful language

Comics have known for years that certain sounds are more powerful - especially at the end of a word or phrase:

“Words with a K in them are funny.” - Neil Simon
“An egg is funny, an orange is not.” - Fred Allen
“Hard consonants… make words sound funnier.” - Greg Dean

Messrs Simon, Allen and Dean are talking about sounds like K, hard C and Qu, as well as T and - to a lesset extent - G, P and B. Add to those the fricatives F, S, Sh, Z and X, and your crunchy crispy toolbox is complete.

As a comedian myself, I know this is wisdom. When I’m chosing a punchline, “The bird is yours!” is only half as funny as “Keep the duck!” (And it’s true outside comedy too - if you think of all the terrible swearwords your mother hates, I bet you can built most of them using a few vowels and the sounds above…)

Consider this in choosing words for your advertising tagline or customer contact script. For a snappy call to action, these hard consonant and fricative sounds are best.

Turn “Anybody for some juice?” into “Who’s next to be refreshed?”.
"This way, please!" becomes "Step right up!".
And "Have a try" becomes "Just do it!"
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Ask the Coyote

Why you need a different sense of timing in experience design

I was chewing the fat yesterday (actually, it was a rather tasty cheese Pizza) with esteemed Imagineo colleague Markus Hormess, and we got to talking about timing.

In theater, and Hollywood -and increasingly in experience design - timing is crucial. Get the timing right, and you increase the wow-factor of your offering exponentially. The problem is, many of the folks working in experiential events come from a service background and do not have a showbiz sense of timing.

We have a typical Pine and Gilmore Product>Service>Experience progression here. If a delivery of building bricks is fifteen minutes late, the delay is trivial. If a restaurant meal is fifteen minutes late, it is inconvenient or perhaps embarrassing. If an actor is fifteen minutes late coming on stage, the play will have ground to a halt, audience will have left in disgust and his career will be history!

As you move your customer contact beyond service and towards experience, your feeling for timing must become more and more precise. Rather than hours and minutes, you will be working with seconds and even - one day -fragments of seconds.

Concretise this with your people by discussing your common definition of "now". Remember, for a chef, delivering food "now" means taking it out of the oven, putting it on a plate, adding the sauce, the veg and a sprig of parsley, wiping the plate edges, and putting it in the waiter's hand. That 25 seconds was "now" for the cook.

For an actor (or for an experience cast member with an audience waiting), getting the food "now" means holding out my hand and getting the plate within, say, half a second. For a designed experience to work, everyone needs to have a similar sense of timing.

Timing something perfectly – making it happen precisely when it wants to happen – can make the experience immensely satisfying (and impressive) for customers. So talk about it, work on it, and seek inspiration from the experts – Woody Allen, Laurel and Hardy, and Grandmasters Bugs Bunny and Wile E. Coyote (MT).

Surprise and pleasure?

When can unfulfilled expectations cause a smile?

I've recently been moving further into stand-up comedy, diversifying from the situational comedy which is my main work. While reading up on gag writing, I stumbled across this statement by stand-up guru Basil White:

"We know people assign expectations to an experience while they're still having the experience. We know that when people become aware of how they assigned the wrong expectation to an experience, the brain gives us a pleasure response that makes us laugh."

There is some very "experiential" language in there. Coincidence?

Basil's words got me thinking. I've always been a firm believer that the easiest way to make a customer happy is to give them more than they expect. We also know that surprises - even simple ones like suddenly appearing or disappearing - are an old slapstick tradition. I wonder how the themes surprise, pleasure and customer satisfaction (or, more interestingly, customer sacrifice) interrelate? What is the brain circuitry or conditioning behind it?

Of course, there is a difference between comedy and service design here, as customers invest more than audiences do. Their investment allows them to demand pleasant surprises - you're not going to gain a lot of fans by pouring icy water down the customer's trousers at the checkout. Mind you, they might enjoy it if your trousers were the ones getting the soaking.

So, some thinking homework for everyone - what function should surprise have in customer experiences?