I was leading multiple teams in a large organization. We – the organization – were known for excellence, we were known for great presentations, we were known for incredible production. We looked the part, we spoke the part, we captured the part (either live, or via video to be played later). It was all on the up and up. We weren’t shady; we were just super well rehearsed, very prepared, and had a plethora of audio and visual mediums and adjunctive help to make a big splash.

None of this was bad. There was a lot of good to it. A lot of good to all of the primping and production. Until that night…

Me and my team had prepped for weeks for this big event. It was much of what I had already described, a lot of prepping, rehearsing, polish, production, and presentation. We were, after all, LEADERS in our lane, in our industry, in our sphere of influence…so this event was expected to be great. Above all that, we believed the importance of the message we needed to communicate – so much was on the line.

The night came. Everybody was in place: Me – as the keynote speaker and host, the production team, my team, and the event hosting staff.

We rolled through rehearsals, and things were bumpy. The slide deck was off, and none of the visuals were lining up with the scheduled cadence of events for the evening.

This was highly unusual. We, this cross-functional team, were considered “varsity” participants. We were leaders. We could, should, and would lead through this.

I didn’t panic. We had thirty minutes until the event “officially” kicked off. We had time to get things squared away. 

All of the production stuff was still goofed up.

I thought to myself, “I’m okay…we still have a few minutes left. The production crew is saying that this will get fixed. Quickly. No question. I’m good.”

The event is starting…now.

Not knowing if the production stuff was fixed, I said to myself: “I have my notes right here as a backup…although I HATE speaking with notes. AND, I don’t even need them. I’m speaking about my passion – I eat and breathe this topic. Even without any notes or slides, just talking, I can still deliver my message.” Any bona fide leader would think something similar. Right? 

Showtime.

I open the evening in front of a huge crowd – and with the realization that this event will be captured via video and repurposed for a lot of things.

The pressure was on.

The production was a mess. None of the slides and visuals were working. Well…they were working, but not in sync with my talk.

So, what did I do? What would a good leader do?

I tried to steer my talk towards the production. The slides were out of order, so I tried to match what I was saying to what was on the slide, so no one would realize something was off. Yes, I steered my talk (the main thing) towards the production (which was not the main thing). I steered my focus, my energy, and my talk towards what was supposed to be the supporting element. I, with great chagrin, made the supporting thing the main thing.

I should have grabbed my notes.

Actually, I should have just talked.

I should have told the crew running the big screens, the audio, the visuals, “Hey team, let’s not worry about that stuff. Let me just talk to our guests tonight.” And I should have, well, talked.

That’s what a good leader would have done. 

The night was a flop. I was trying to hide that something was off, but instead, it threw me off. My team was anxious, the production crew was super stressed, and the crowd felt all of it. Everything felt off, and my message didn’t resonate.

What a miss. What a waste. What an absolute departure from keeping the main thing the main thing. Which is: connecting and inspiring the people who were there to hear your message. That’s why they are there. They are not there to be mesmerized by production and pomp. Production is adjunctive. Connecting the audience with your passion, your vision, and your message, is primary.

A good leader gets that.

For clarity, I’m not downgrading preparation. Be prepared. Rehearse. Rehearse. Rehearse. Your audience deserves that. They deserve for you to be well prepared to deliver the passion that persuaded them to sign-up to be present for your presentation. A good leader is prepared.

I’m also not downgrading production. Well, for the most part, I’m not. Just put it in its proper place. It’s adjunctive. It’s supportive. It illuminates and highlights the passion, the people, and the purpose. Production, in and of itself, is not the point. The leader, his or her message, and the audience are the point.

Also, for clarity. That night? It wasn’t the production team’s fault that it was a flop. It was mine. I should have been able to control the controllable and just say: “Hey guys, kill the slides. I got this.” And just talked.

Here’s what’s so bizarre. Years prior to this night? I had served in the most elite special operations aviation unit in the world. I had been used to presenting to hundreds of soldiers for years. I had been used to presenting to the highest level of commanders on really big operations. And I always did pretty good. And it was the same for me in big business working for a fortune 100 company.

But somewhere along the line, I felt like I had to have a bunch of props. And what’s crazy? I didn’t need them. I just got conditioned to think they HAD to be part of the formula to communicate effectively. But what I really needed was to, well, lead.

And I’m not saying I’m some dynamic speaker. I’m not. I’m not bad. But I’m not great. This is the feedback I usually get about my public speaking: (1) From people who don’t do it on a regular basis, “Wow, you are really good.” (2) From people who really are really good, and do it on a regular basis, “There are areas to improve.” 

But for sure, prior to conditioning myself to be self-reliant on something other than preparation, purpose, presentation, and people (i.e., props and production), I could deliver an authentic and stirring message.  

And then I got sucked into the “performance” matrix.

I got off of the main thing.

Never again. Ever. 

And when I say “never again,” it’s not because I don’t want to be remembered as a mediocre public speaker who meandered his way through a great production (which, by the way, if I’m being honest…I don’t want to be remembered for that).

Instead, I want to deliver value, truth, passion, and an inspiring message. It’s about the people. And them connecting with me, a person. 

People want YOU, and they want you to lead them, inspire them, and impassion them. Production and props can help with that, but it’s way more than that. Actually, it’s way less. It’s you – the leader, your message, and the people.  

Everything else is peripheral.