A few, er, words on, um, streaking, I mean speaking, in public
"Good afternoon! Er, good morning, I mean. Ha! Thank you for coming to speak to me today. Sorry, I mean, thank you for inviting ME to speak to YOU today. I'm here to talk about the FT and the profession, or, rather the, um, TRADE of, er, journalism . . ."
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My speech limps along in this manner for 12 minutes. It was meant to last more than half an hour. Indeed, the whole thing is a stark illustration of how not to speak in public: I forget to breathe and then hyperventilate; I drop my notes and lose my place; I demonstrate a vocabulary that doesn't extend beyond "um", "er" and "ug".
Luckily, there are only two people watching: Jacqui Harper, a former TV presenter, and Michaela Kennen, an actress and voice coach, both of whom work for Crystal Business Training in central London. I contacted them when, to my surprise, I found myself agreeing to talk to students at a school in north-west London.
I say "surprise" because I normally decline public speaking opportunities in the way I decline invitations to the opera: without hesitation. People often assume that if you write for a living, you can speak coherently - not realising that spending your days sitting in front of a computer (coffee dribbling down your chin) actually destroys rather than enhances your verbal communication skills. The prospect of having to say a few words in front of a few people - even children - is enough to have me contemplating self-immolation.
But as the suggestion to speak at Kingsbury High School came from a senior executive at the company that owns the FT, I couldn't say no. Moreover, I realised it was probably time I tackled my glossophobia with the help of professionals. Had I known what the training would involve - they have me practising in front of a video camera within minutes of arriving - I would have found a way to decline. Horrifically, as a soon as I finish my 12 minute "speech", I am required to watch the recording.
I used to think that public speaking was the most traumatic thing anyone could do as part of their job. Even those who are very good at it loathe it - Winston Churchill once remarked that there were two great pleasures in his life and that public speaking wasn't one of them. But it transpires there is something even worse: watching yourself give a speech.
As the tape runs and I cringe half to death, Jacqui and Michaela proffer feedback. Because they are nice people, they begin with the positive, saying that I come across as "personable", have a "clear voice" and a "nice pace" of delivery. However, on the negative side, they say I read too much from my notes, I don't acknowledge the audience, I don't smile, I trail off at the end of sentences and I don't put enough of myself into the material.
"A lot of the people we deal with have extreme nerves," adds Jacqui. "We're not sensing that with you. You're going to be fine." I find it hard to believe her.
There follows a day of training. As with every bit of training I have ever had, it begins with a slide stating that body language accounts for 55 per cent of communication, that voice accounts for 38 per cent and that words account for just 7 per cent.
But unlike most training courses, the majority of the subsequent advice proves useful: speak slowly; don't be frightened of silence; project; keep the message simple; don't hide behind PowerPoint; begin by saying what you're going to say, say it, and end by saying what you've just said.
A week later I am standing in an empty classroom, feeling much better about things. As I wait, I run through two exercises, as instructed by Michaela, to prepare my body and voice for what I'm about to do: (1) I go for a quick walk, letting my arms swing freely; (2) I smile, making the sound "ng" as found at the end of the word "king", sliding it up and down in my range so that I sound like an ambulance. Half way through my fifth "nnnggggggg" I spot a child watching me through a window.
The nerves return with a vengeance and I recall a story in the press that morning about a politician making hundreds of thousands of pounds on the after-dinner speaking circuit. I struggle to share the outrage of the pundits - it seems to me that anyone who can do this kind of thing regularly without having a nervous breakdown deserves big money.
But just as I start mulling escape strategies (faking a heart attack seems the most practical option), teenagers begin filing into the room and, after briefly losing control of a nervous laugh, I find myself launching into my talk. When the whole thing is over, I hand out some feedback forms, asking the students to offer a brutally honest assessment of my public speaking (in)abilities.
I read the comments on the train back to the office, with my head in my hands. The first few aren't encouraging. One student says I need to "speak slower so notes can be made". Another says I need to "look at the audience more". Meanwhile, someone else complains about my "unhumorous sarcasm" and gives me a score of just 4 out of 10. It is true: most of my jokes died a death.
But something incredible happens with the remainder of the feedback: it improves. "He's a good speaker with good speech." "I found it really interesting." "You should do it more often." One of the students even gives me a score of 11 out of 10. When I tally up the ratings to produce an average figure, it is a frankly shocking 8.4 out of ten. Still, I'd rather eat my own arms and legs than repeat the exercise any time soon.
可怕的公开演讲
“
下午好！嗯，我是说上午好。哈！谢谢你们今天前来跟我交谈。抱歉，我的意思是，谢谢你们今天邀请我给你们做演讲。我想在此谈谈《金融时报》以及这个职业，或者更确切地说，呃，新闻，嗯，行业……”
我的演讲就这样磕磕绊绊进行了12分钟，本来是要演讲半小时以上的。确实，整个过程彻底说明了进行公开讲演时应该避免的问题：我忘了呼吸，然后换气过度，我的讲稿掉了，然后不知道讲到哪了，我展示的词汇量没有超过“嗯”、“呃”和“啊”。
幸好只有两个人看我演讲：前电视主持人杰基?哈珀(Jacqui Harper)，以及女演员兼声音教练麦克拉?凯宁(Michaela Kennen)。她俩都在位于伦敦中心的Crystal商业培训(Crystal Business Training)工作。我很惊讶，我居然会同意向伦敦西北某学校的学生们演讲，所以我就联系了她们。
我说“惊讶”，是因为一般我会拒绝公开演讲，就像我会毫不犹豫拒绝邀请去看歌剧一样。人们通常以为，假如你以写作谋生，你就能够讲得头头是道。他们没弄明白，成天坐在电脑面前(咖啡从下巴滴落)，其实会损害语言沟通技巧，而不是提高这种技巧。一想到必须在一些人(甚至是孩子)面前说上几句，就足以让我想要自杀。
不过，由于让我到Kingsbury高中演讲的提议，是由《金融时报》母公司一位资深高管提出，因此我没法拒绝。此外我意识到，可能是时候寻求专业人员的帮助，解决我的演讲恐惧症了。如果我事先知道培训要干些什么，我就会想办法拒绝了。我刚到几分钟，她们就让我对着摄像机练习，恐怖的是，一结束我12分钟的“演讲”，她们就要我看录像带。
我过去以为，在任何人的工作中，公开演讲都是最痛苦的一件事。即便那些非常擅长此道的人也讨厌公开演讲。温斯顿?邱吉尔(Winston Churchill)曾说，他的生活里有两大乐趣，而公开演讲不在其中。但原来还有更糟的事：看自己发表演讲。
带子播放时我吓得半死，杰基和麦克拉则在一旁给出了反馈意见。因为她们都很和善，所以都从优点开始说起，她们说我给人的印象“气宇不凡”，“声音清晰”，演讲时的“节凑感良好”。但在不足的方面，她们说我念稿子太多，没有理会听众，没有微笑，到了句子末尾时声音减弱，在演讲时没有很好地投入。
“我们打过交道的许多人都极为紧张，”杰基补充道，“我们没有觉得你有这个问题，你会做得很好的。”我觉得很难相信她的话。
接下来是一天的培训。我接受的所有培训都以幻灯片开始，而且都宣称肢体语言在沟通中占了55%，声音占38%，而语言仅占7%。
但与大多数培训课程不同，之后的建议大多都被证明有用：放慢语速，不要害怕沉默，放开声音，说话简单明了，不要躲在PowerPoint后面，开门见山，大胆去讲，结束时总结前面说过的东西。
一周后，我站在一间没人的教室里，感觉好了许多。我在等待的时候，按照麦克拉教我的方法，进行了两个练习，让我的身体和声音为即将开始的演讲做好准备：(1)我快速走了几步，随意挥了挥手臂；(2)微笑，发出单词“King”(国王)末尾的“ng”音，在我的音域范围内把这个音不断拉高降低，听上去就像救护车。在我第5次发“nnnggggggg”时，我发现一个孩子在透过窗户看着我。
紧张又猛地袭来，我想起那天早上新闻里的一则报道，说一个政客从晚宴后巡回演讲中赚到了几十万英镑。我很难像那些专家一样为之感到愤怒，因为我觉得，任何常做这种事，而且不会精神崩溃的人，赚大钱是应该的。
但就在我开始琢磨逃跑策略时(假装心脏病发作似乎是最可行的选择)，学生们开始排队进入教室了。我的脸不由自主地浮现出紧张的笑容，不一会儿，我发现自己的演讲进入了状态。当整个演讲结束时，我给学生们发了些反馈表格，让他们对我的公开演讲能力(或无能)毫不留情地给出坦率评价。
在回办公室的列车上，我双手抱着头看这些评语。开始几条让人泄气。一个学生说，我需要“讲得慢些，好让他可以做笔记”。另一个说，我需要“更多地注视观众”。同时，还有人抱怨我的“讽刺不幽默”，只给我打了4分(总分10分)。没错，我多数的笑话一点也不好笑。
但在剩下的那些反馈中，令人难以置信的事发生了：评价提高了。“他是个不错的演讲者，演讲得很好。”“演讲真的很有趣。”“你应该多做演讲。”有位学生甚至给我打了超过满分10分的11分。当我把评分加起来算平均值时，居然得了8.4分，真令人激动。尽管如此，我宁可饿死，近期也不要再做公开演讲了。
