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After 15 years of giving public speeches and media interviews, I've learned that being alive is the only thing more important than being on TV (Social Media is a close third). Friends and colleagues who hear about my latest speech or interview usually ask me, "How was it?" My response, always: "Great! I don't know what the audience thought, but I had a great time!"
Several people remarked that I didn't look nervous in a recent interview with TV podcast host Jieun Shin of Unification Media. I took it as a compliment, but my question in response: Why should I be nervous discussing the organization I created? That's like asking a chef if he is nervous cooking in his own kitchen.
Some friends explained they would be nervous giving a public speech. As Winston Churchill supposedly said: There are two things that make any young man nervous. One, asking a beautiful lady on a date. Two, giving a public speech.
I haven't always been so confident about public speaking. Fifteen years ago, I even wrote scripts anticipating questions. Since then, I've given speeches around the world, testified before the US Congress, and been interviewed for numerous media outlets. A senior colleague of mine recently suggested I pull back a bit during Q&A, that I now seem to be like a comedian dismissing drunken hecklers.
My advice probably disappoints people asking me for speech tips. I first note the contradictory advice ranging from: speak from the heart; with a script; without a script; use notecards with keywords; use PowerPoint; and don't use PowerPoint. A veteran speaker will approach it differently than a beginner. There isn't one best way, so why not do it your way?
I don't disagree with expert advice about body language and eye contact. My suggestion: "Talk about what you know and give a speech the way you feel comfortable giving it. With experience you will find your own way, the way many dancers and writers initially follow textbook techniques but improvise with experience."
The disruption in my speech career occurred on May 15, 2003, at a national conference I had organized about educational freedom. I was then in the process of making a name for myself as a school choice advocate. Behind the scenes, I was also volunteering to help many low-income families. When the president of the D.C. school board harshly criticized me at a public forum, those low-income DC moms stepped up to rebut her.
One of those single moms, Barbara Mickens, spoke without notes. I had been poring over statistics, analysis, and debate points, checking until the moment I walked on stage. As she talked about struggling to get her daughter a quality education, I realized I needed those notes because I wasn't talking about my own work.
I began experimenting with different ways to give speeches, memorized, extemporaneously, checking notes from my cell phone, even bringing my laptop to the podium. Of course, a speaker should consider the audience, but like a football coach, must sometimes go his own way regardless of the cheers or boos from the stands. Coaches who follow calls from fans can end up sitting in the stands with them ― after getting fired.
I'm still experimenting, it is part of my ongoing self-education, I'm not just speaking to a particular audience on a particular day. The same speech can fail or succeed with different audiences; I always know I did my best regardless of the response and I'm always seeking to improve.
I can be tempted at times to be a know-it-all expert pontificating on issues of the day. A favorite hobby of experts seems to be telling others what they should do. Like sports fans, often experts talk about things they have no control over. In 2012, I began co-editing a book criticizing know-it-alls Harvard professor Michael Sandel and Cambridge lecturer Chang Ha-Joon. I obtained permission from several prominent authors allowing me to re-publish their analysis, along with a few who would submit original pieces, along with my own.
After I gave a one-hour speech at the Shanghai 2012 Austrian Economics Summit denouncing Sandel, I remember wondering: "Why am I talking about those guys? They have made careers out of being intellectual busy bodies, arranging all of society like pieces on a chessboard. I should ignore them, and get back to my own work." I dropped the book project, have rejected TV talking head opportunities, and kept my focus on North Korean refugees, eventually creating a project that led to my own purpose.
Having my own purpose has made it easier to give speeches my own way, like a chef in his own kitchen. When people ask how the latest speech or interview went, I can say, "Great! I don't know what the audience thought, but I had a great time!"
The writer is the Director for International Relations at Freedom Factory Co. in Seoul. He can be reached at CJL@post.harvard.edu.
