In The Power of Moments, Chip and Dan Heath write that purpose is a stronger predictor of performance than passion.
When someone’s values align with their work, they tend to perform better – even under pressure.
We often hear that passion makes a presentation better.
And there’s truth in that.
But purpose can go deeper.
Imagine two people speaking at a sustainability conference.
One is passionate about data.
The other shares a story about growing up near a polluted river, and how that experience shaped their decision to work in environmental policy.
Pixar is known for its storytelling, but what sets the studio apart is how it gives feedback.
During the making of Inside Out, early versions of the film didn’t land well with internal reviewers.
But instead of asking, “Did you like it?”, the team asked better questions:
“What didn’t feel true?”
“Where did you disconnect?”
“What are you taking away from this scene?”
Those questions led to rewrites that shaped the emotional depth of the final film.
In product design, early user tests often reveal a common issue: too much explanation at the start.
Teams build detailed walkthroughs and step-by-step guides. But when real users try the product, they lose interest before they even get to the good part.
So the team changes the opening. They simplify. They focus on showing value right away.
Presenting has the same dynamic.
Many speakers start with an agenda slide. It might feel like the right thing to do – but it often drains energy before the talk even begins.
Shunryu Suzuki, a Zen Buddhist teacher, once said: “In the beginner’s mind, there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s, there are few.”
That idea matters for anyone who wants to grow as a presenter.
A beginner’s mindset means staying open – even when you’re experienced.
It means welcoming feedback and staying curious.
Some of the most effective speakers I know ask for input after every talk. They try new things. They read, watch, listen and learn.
Italian economist Vilfredo Pareto noticed something curious in his garden. Only a small number of pea plants were producing the majority of the peas.
Around the same time, he also saw that 80% of Italy’s wealth was held by 20% of the population.
That observation became a broader idea now known as the 80/20 principle – the idea that a small portion of input often leads to the majority of results.
During the Second World War, Winston Churchill issued a memo to his staff titled ‘Brevity.’
The message was simple: keep reports short.
He wanted clarity. He wanted decisions. And he knew long, vague writing slowed everything down.
Churchill requested short reports with the main points in clear, crisp paragraphs. He pushed his team to avoid what he called “woolly phrases” and official jargon that impeded clear thinking.
He encouraged direct language – even if it sounded a bit informal. What mattered was getting the point across, fast.
Andy Lopata – a brilliant speaker and author – was once invited to speak at an event for a hairdressing company.
He wasn’t a hairdresser. He didn’t know the industry. But instead of guessing what might resonate, he did something simple – and smart.
He asked to meet five people who would be in the audience. He spoke with them and asked questions. He learned what mattered to them and what challenges they faced.
In this episode, Eric Ries explores why leadership communication often breaks down inside organisations. He explains how incentives, decisions and pressure shape what people believe – and how leaders can align their message with reality to build lasting trust.
Leaders spend a lot of time trying to communicate clearly.
They define a mission. They share values. They repeat key messages.
