I have given many speeches on various occasions during my career. I sent them to some felons in a maximum security prison. Becoming a senior policy maker at Downing Street. Confused Japanese tourists hoping to see Shakespeare’s works in Stratford. And to the 40,000 people waiting for Vampire Weekend at Glastonbury.
For me, counterintuitively, small audiences are more intimidating than large audiences. Speaking to a small group is an intimate experience, allowing you to be close enough to catch individual reactions. On the other hand, if you’re in front of a large audience, it’s much more performative. When you look at a sea of anonymous images, the only effective feedback is noise. At best, it’s silence interspersed with occasional laughter (dare I say it, applause). At worst, whispers and the sound of seats flipping as people walk out.
If you want someone to hear what you have to say, you have to get their attention.the first few sentences are important
One of our more intimate events was the ‘Our Excellence in Eye Care’ dinner (February 25), which celebrated 10 years of supporting 100% Optical and presented Professor David Whittaker with a Lifetime Achievement Award. It’s nonsense, but I was acutely aware of how what I was saying was landing. Fortunately, things seem to have gone well overall. The smile lines disappeared and the clap at the end seemed authentic enough.
But, as always, not everyone’s reaction was the same, and as I stood there trotting out carefully rehearsed ad-libs, I noticed a look of confusion on one or two people’s faces. . This was meant to be a visual event, which they obviously thought so, so why on earth did this guy start telling ridiculous anecdotes about the history of the building and rats eating kebabs? (Please don’t ask).
There are two answers to this question. The first one is obvious. If you want someone to hear what you have to say, you have to get their attention. The first few sentences are very important. If that’s boring, any hope of his next 15 minutes of having an audience with him is already gone. If you grab them from the beginning, you have a chance. Turn them off and there’s nothing left. Humor, insight, anecdotes, whatever you need. The ancient philosopher Lucretius wrote, not in prose but in poetry, the rationale for why children should only drink from a cup of bitter wormwood rimmed with honey. Two thousand years later, modern day philosopher Mary Poppins echoed this sentiment, saying, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine work.”
The second and more important reason is that fun is at the heart of AOP. One of the reasons I chose this job was because the interview process was discursive, creative, and humorous, rather than a dry, mechanical question-and-answer session. Watching our amazing Clinical Specialist Director, Dr. Peter Hampson, spinning the game show wheel in a sparkly gold jacket on his 100% optical main stage, makes us feel dull. There is no one to criticize.
AOP may be a fun place to work, with high staff satisfaction and low turnover, but by any standard, it’s a high-performing organization.
Spend time at AOP Towers in Clerkenwell and you’ll quickly discover that irreverence and humor are something to be celebrated rather than frowned upon.
I think some people think having fun is unprofessional, or that joking means you’re not taking it seriously. And of course there are limits. Beneath the jacket and game show flavor, Peter’s clinical content was strictly evidence-based and his message was very serious. Although AOP Board meetings can be comical at times, documents are carefully considered and decisions are focused and clear. AOP may be a fun place to work, with high staff satisfaction and low turnover, but by any standard, it’s a high-performing organization.
On the contrary, in my opinion, fun is not a distraction or unprofessional, but is essential to success. Study after study shows a direct relationship between a relaxed and cheerful workplace and high performance. It’s no wonder that companies like Google have ball pits and slides in their offices.
Humor is more than just entertainment; it can be a deadly weapon. It is well established that the only opposition leader that Margaret Thatcher ever truly feared was Neil Kinnock, and that he ridiculed her rather than attacked her. And in a stressful world, like medicine, in a stressful world, fun is essential as a release. I have a dear friend who is currently having some health issues and everyone around her treats her with the same respect and compassion that she deserves. It’s infuriating. What she needs from me, she says, is the opposite. He’s someone I can go on adventures with and someone I can count on to joke about my illness if I mention it.
As optometrists increasingly move into clinical settings, softer people management and communication skills are also becoming more important.
For a profession that is likely to increasingly engage in difficult and complex patient conversations in the coming years, knowing when and how to use tools such as humor to engage in conversations and communicate is important. It will become increasingly important. Knowing what to say and when to say it isn’t always easy. Thanks to a friendship that lasted decades, I’ve probably earned the right to make the same hair loss jokes about women with cancer that they’ve been making to me since I was 30. I don’t recommend it as a more general strategy. As optometrists move more and more into the clinical setting, softer people management and communication skills are also becoming more important. And while the content needs to be well-written and accurate, just like my speech and Peter’s presentation, the packaging is also important.
