Christopher Vogler, author of The Writer’s Journey, has worked in Hollywood for many years as a story analyst. When Vogler was at Disney, he began to apply Joseph Campbell’s The Hero’s Journey to his work. Campbell had travelled the world studying culture’s mythological stories and discovered an 18-part story structure they all had in common. Vogler pulled insights from Campbell’s work and simplified the steps for screenplay analysis to 12.

Campbell traditionally displayed The Hero’s Journey in a circle. In the chart on the next page, starting at the top of the wheel, move clockwise through each step. Vogler’s stages of The Hero’s Journey are as follows: (1) The journey begins with the introduction of the Heroes in the Ordinary World, where (2) they are presented with the Call to Adventure. (3) Their initial reluctance may lead to Refusal of the Call, but they (4) receive encouragement from a Mentor to (5) cross over the Threshold and gain entry into the Special World. (6) There, they encounter Tests, Allies, and Enemies. (7) They Approach the Inmost Cave where (8) they must endure an Ordeal. (9) The Reward is seized and (10) they are pursued as they follow The Road Back to the Ordinary World. (11) They are transformed by the experience of a Resurrection and (12) return triumphant with the Elixir—an item of great value that will benefit the Ordinary World.⁶

Heroes endure physical activities (outer journey), but also experience internal transformations to their hearts and minds at each stage. Then, the outermost ring uses Star Wars: Episode IV as an example, showing the outer journey in gray text and the inner journey in green.

An important insight emerges when The Hero’s Journey is represented in a circle: it creates a clear division between the ordinary world and the special world (signified by the gray dotted line). There is a moment in every story where the character overcomes reluctance to change, leaves the ordinary world, and crosses the threshold into an adventure in a special world.

In the special world, the hero gains skills and insights—and then brings them back to the ordinary world as the story resolves.

A good presentation is a satisfying, complete experience. You might cry, laugh, or do both, but you’ll also feel you’ve learned something about yourself.

Presentations use insights from myths and movies in several ways:

• There’s a likeable yet flawed hero attending your presentation.
• A presentation should take the audience on a journey from their ordinary world into your special world gaining new insights and skills from your special world.
• The audience makes a conscious decision to cross the threshold into your world; they are not forced.
• The audience will resist adopting your point of view and will point out obstacles and road blocks.
• The audience needs to change on the inside before they’ll change on the outside. In other words, they need to alter their perception internally before they change the way they act.

Crossing the threshold is an important moment, because it signals that the hero is making a commitment. Let’s look more closely at that turning point.

If the audience is the hero in your story, then the objective during your presentation is to get them past the fourth step in the wheel. Your presentation takes them to the threshold, but it’s their choice whether to cross it or not.

At the heart of your presentation there’s an idea, and when you’re presenting you’ll ask the audience to adopt it and shepherd it into the world. It might involve recasting the shape of an organization, or explaining how your product fills a customer’s needs. It might involve helping students internalize certain subject matter or perform well on a test. Whatever it is, adopting this idea will require the audience to consciously step into something new.

You need to acknowledge that no change you request from your heroes will be made without a struggle. Making a change is not easy. Convincing people they should commit to change is probably the greatest challenge an organization can face. The time the hero meets the mentor is exactly the time that he or she

needs to make the decision to cross the threshold—and enter the special world. The parallel to making a presentation is lovely. Your ideas will help the audience commit to making a change. If you do a good job, they’ll voluntarily cross the threshold and enter the special world. But you can’t force them.

If the audience sees your presentation and then makes the decision to cross the threshold and adopt your perspective, they will start out on the rest of The Hero’s Journey (stages five through twelve) as soon as they leave. Since you’re their mentor, you should prepare them as well as you can for what to expect as they continue the journey, and equip them for success along the way. In movies, the stages of The Hero’s Journey usually take place in a chronological sequence. But in a presentation, you aren’t bound by the constraints of time and place. The presentation medium gives you the freedom to move around in any order you want as you address insights into how your audience can accomplish steps five through twelve.

Let’s remember that there is one indisputable attribute of a good story: there must be some kind of conflict or imbalance perceived by the audience that your presentation resolves. This sense of discord is what persuades them to care enough to take action. In a presentation, you create imbalance by consciously juxtaposing what is with what could be.

Clearly contrast who the audience is when they walk into the room with whom they could be when they leave (crossing the threshold into a special world).

What is versus what could be. Drawing attention to that gap forces the audience to contend with the imbalance until a new balance is achieved.

The Presentation Form

Drawing insights from mythological, literary, and cinematic structures, a presentation form emerged. Most great presentations unknowingly follow this form.

Presentations should have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Two clear turning points in a presentation’s structure guide the audience through the content and distinctively separate the beginning from the middle and the middle from the end. The first is the call to adventure—this should show the audience a gap between what is and what could be—jolting the audience from complacency. When effectively constructed—an imbalance is created—the audience will want your presentation to resolve this imbalance. The second turning point is the call to action, which identifies what the audience needs to do, or how they need to change. This second transition point signifies that you’re coming to the presentation’s conclusion.

Notice how the middle moves up and down as if something new is happening continually. This back and forth structural motion pushes and pulls the audience to feel as if events are constantly unfolding. An audience will stay engaged as you unwrap ideas and perspectives frequently.

Each presentation concludes with a vivid description of the new bliss that’s created when your audience adopts your proposed idea. But notice that the presentation form doesn’t stop at the end of the presentation. Presentations are meant to persuade, so there is also a subsequent action (or crossing the threshold) the audience is to do once they leave the presentation.

Let’s look at the form in more detail on the following pages.

The Beginning and Call to Adventure

The Hero’s Journey begins when “a hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder.”⁷ Your presentation may not offer “supernatural wonder,” but you are asking the audience to leave their comfort zone and venture to a new place that is closer to where you think they should be.

The beginning of your presentation is represented by the first flat line of the presentation form. This is where you describe the audience’s ordinary world and set the baseline of what is. You can use historical information about what has been, or the current state of what is, which often includes the problem you’re currently facing.

You should deliver a concise formulation of what everyone agrees is true. Accurately capturing the current reality and sentiments of the audience’s world demonstrates that you have experience and insights on their situation, and that you understand their perspective, context, and values.

Done effectively, this description of where your audience currently is will create a common bond between you and them, and will open them up to hear your unique perspective more readily. Audiences are grateful when their contribution, intelligence, and experience are acknowledged.

Additionally, describing their existing world gives you the opportunity to create a dramatic dichotomy between what is and what could be. Proposing what could be should throw the audience’s current reality out of balance. Without first setting up what is, the dramatic effect of your new idea will be lost.

The beginning doesn’t have to be long. It might be as simple as a short statement or phrase that sets the baseline of what is. While it can be longer, it should not take up more than ten percent of your total time. The audience will be anxious to know why they came and what you are proposing. So, although the beginning is important, it shouldn’t be long-winded.

The first turning point to occur in a presentation is the call to adventure, which triggers a significant shift in the content. The call to adventure asks the audience to jump into a situation that, unbeknownst to them, requires their attention and action. This moment sets the presentation in motion.

“A bad beginning makes a bad ending.” Euripides⁸

The call to adventure should present your big idea of what could be in a way that’s clear and memorable. This is the first time the audience will see the glaring contrast between what is and what could be—and it’s imperative that the gap is clear.

The call to adventure in a presentation plays a role similar to the inciting incident in a movie. Story author Robert McKee says, “The inciting incident first throws the protagonist’s life out of balance, then arouses in him the desire to restore that balance.”⁹ That imbalance is what elicits the audience’s desire for a reality different from the current one. Pose an intriguing insight that your audience will want the presentation to address. It should stir them up enough (positively or negatively) so that they want to listen intently as you explain what is at stake and what it takes to resolve the gap.

This turning point should be explicit, not muddled or vague. The remainder of the presentation should be about filling that gap and drawing the audience toward your unique perspective of what could be.

“Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps; for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be.” 
William Hazlitt¹⁰

The Middle: Contrast

The middle of a presentation is made up of various types of contrast. People are naturally drawn to contrast, because life is surrounded with it. Day and night. Male and female. Up and down. Good and evil. Love and hate.

Your job as a communicator is to create and resolve the tension created by contrast.

Building highly contrasting elements into a presentation holds the audience’s attention. Audiences enjoy experiencing a dilemma and its resolution—even if that dilemma is caused by a viewpoint that’s opposed to their own. It keeps them interested.

The audience wants to know if your views are similar to or different from their views. While listening to a presenter, audience members catalog and classify what they hear. Having come into the room with their own knowledge, and biases, they are constantly evaluating

whether what you say fits within their life experiences, or falls outside of what they know.

It’s important to know your audience so that you can understand how your views are both similar to and different from theirs. There will usually be some disparities. A rather obvious business example would be that you want them to buy your product, and they don’t want to spend the money.

But differences aren’t a problem. The polarity between similar and dissimilar concepts creates a force that can be put to good use. In fact, both extremes are necessary in a presentation. They allow you to move from the familiar to the unfamiliar—and to cover several points of view. They create observable distinctions between your perspectives and your audience’s perspectives—this helps keep their attention. Though people are generally more comfortable with what’s familiar to them, conveying the opposite creates internal tension. Oppositional content is stimulating; familiar content is comforting. Together, these two types of content produce forward movement.

• Emotion: Emotional contrast moves back and forth between analytical and emotional content.
• Delivery: Delivery contrast moves back and forth between traditional and nontraditional delivery methods.

Contrast is a motif woven throughout this entire book, and is at the heart of communication because people are attracted to things that stand out.

“As the polarized nature of magnetic fields can be used to generate electrical energy, polarity in a story seems to be an engine that generates tension and movement in the characters and a stirring of emotions in the audience.”
Chris Vogler¹¹

Call to Action

The second transition, the call to action, clearly defines what you’re asking the audience to do. Successful persuasion leads to action, and it is important to clearly state exactly how you want the audience to take action. This step in the presentation gives the audience discrete tasks that will help bring the ideas you convey in your presentation to fruition. Once this line is crossed, the audience needs to decide if they are with you or not—so make it clear what needs to be accomplished.

Whether a presentation is political, corporate, or academic, the audience consists of four distinct types of people capable of taking action:

Doers, suppliers, influencers, and innovators.

People have different temperaments, but all the audience members will have a tendency to prefer one type of action over another. Offering each audience member at least one action that suits their temperament lets them choose the action that makes them most comfortable. When they see ways to help that are appropriate to their type, it builds momentum and speeds the way to results. Virtually everybody in your audience will be able to effectively perform one of the four types of actions. A truly passionate revolutionary who supports the ideas you present could very possibly perform all four.

You can ask the audience to take more than one action per category—but make sure to identify actions that are simple, straightforward, and easily executed. The audience should be able to mentally connect their actions with a positive outcome for themselves, or for the greater good. Present all the necessary actions and make sure the most critical tasks for success are highlighted.

Many presentations end with the call to action; however, ending a presentation with a long to-do list for the audience is not inspirational. Neither is asking the audience to act on small, seemingly trivial tasks. So it’s important to follow up the call to action with a vivid picture of the potential reward.

The End

Notice that the presentation ends on a higher plane in the presentation form than where it began. The ending should fill the audience with a heightened sense of what could be and make them feel willing to be transformed—to either understand something in a new way or to change their actions. The goal of persuasion is to transform the audience. If you skillfully define their future reward, you will convince them they should be on board with your idea.

The ending has two parts: repeating the most important points and delivering inspirational remarks encompassing what the world will look like when your idea is adopted.

The principle of recency states that audiences remember the last content they heard in a presentation more vividly than the points made in the beginning or middle. So you should create an ending that describes an inspirational, blissful world—a world that has adopted your idea. What will the audience members’ lives look like? What will humanity look like? What will the planet look like?

In order to get the most out of the audience, describe the possible future outcomes with wonder and awe. Show the audience that the reward will be worth their efforts. The presentation should conclude with the assertion that your idea is not only possible but that it is the right—and better—choice to make.

“Getting the audience to cheer, rise, and vocalize in response to a dramatic, rousing conclusion creates positive emotional contagion, produces a strong emotional takeaway, and fuels the call to action by the business leader. The ending of a great narrative is the first thing the audience remembers.” Peter Guber¹²

Let’s say you pulled off an incredible presentation. You used the principles in the presentation form with grace and ease to convey your ideas and the audience made a commitment to transform. Sounds like a huge victory—but it’s not over yet.

The end of your presentation marks the next phase of the adventure for the audience.

The human ability to accept new insights creates room for people to become something different. As indicated by the final dashed line at the end of the presentation form, the audience starts becoming something different from what they were at the beginning of the presentation.

But when you are done delivering your presentation, the adoption of your idea is still inconclusive. The audience will determine the outcome. Some presentations end with the audience leaving full of support, some don’t. Your idea could end as a comedy or tragedy—the two forms of dramatic resolution proposed in Greek literature. If they don’t adopt your idea, it could end as a tragedy. Tragedy is the downfall of a once admirable hero—a good person whose demise comes as a result of some personal error or mistake. Or it could resolve as a comedy. Comedy doesn’t mean it’s funny; it’s defined as a rise in the fortune of a sympathetic hero. The hallmark of comedy isn’t laughter, it’s the satisfaction felt when a deserving person succeeds.

“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” T.S. Elliot¹³

The analytical tool used throughout this book to represent presentations graphically is the sparkline. Viewing a presentation’s contour helps you clearly see the contrasts. The line moves between what is (the lower position) and what could be (the higher position) to show contrasts in content. It changes colors to show contrasts in emotion and delivery. Every presentation has a unique sparkline. No two are alike, because no two presentations are alike.

Using a tool like the presentation form to achieve great results isn’t new. Movies and myths all have a form, and they all yield beautiful and unique results.

Similarly, presentations that follow the Presentation Form will all be unique. The presentation form isn’t a formula, because it has enormous flexibility; rigid adherence to it could become predictable. So, it’s equally important to embrace its versatility.

Above is an annotation of how to read the sparklines in the book. The case study on the following pages will show the first use of the presentation form applied as a sparkline. Videos of all the presentations analyzed are available online along with additional annotations to the transcripts.

Tryst with Destiny

Jawaharlal Nehru was an Indian politician, political heir of Mohandas Gandhi, and India’s first Prime Minister of independent India. He was a charismatic leader who pushed for complete independence from the British Empire. After India suffered during a hundred years of non-violent struggle against the British Empire, Nehru delivered a speech to the Indian Constituent Assembly on August 14, 1947, the eve of India being freed from British rule. The speech, Tryst with Destiny, is one of the greatest speeches of all time. It is beloved in India, similar to how Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech is beloved in the United States.

Nehru’s Sparkline

Above is the shape of his speech. You’ll notice he starts off with what is and moves back and forth between what is and what could be in almost perfect frequency. The speech ends high and to the right by describing the new bliss. He created a perfect cadence of contrast.

Nehru’s speech is in classic form. As the first independent leader of India, he delivered a rousing speech that ushered in an era of freedom and reformation.

Space Shuttle Challenger Address

The State of the Union address is an annual, constitutionally sanctioned speech delivered like a national progress report—and is a significant task to reschedule. Reagan positions himself as both outside the fray and part of it. He presides over it and shares in its painful reality.

Reagan positions the tragedy within a larger picture without losing the significance of the present tragedy. He names each crew member and praises them for their courage. To further manage our emotions, Reagan again calls us to national mourning, and establishes the primary audience as the collective mourners.

Reagan narrows his focus to the first and most affected sub-audience: the families of the fallen. He acknowledges the inappropriateness of suggesting how they should feel and offers praise they can take hold of with words like “daring,” “brave,” “special grace,” and “special spirit.”

Reagan then draws attention back to the general audience’s interest in the larger scientific story. He then envisions the crew’s place in history as transcending science altogether by calling them pioneers. The term “pioneer” cloaks them in a mythical covering, one dating back to our nation’s earliest ventures. The astronauts’ death is portrayed as a reasonable outcome of their endeavors.

Reagan’s next sub-audience is the school children—an estimated five million—among whom are the students of Christa McAuliffe’s class and school. Reagan momentarily adopts the tone of an empathizing parent which is tough to do while remaining ‘presidential’, but Reagan carries it well.

Here, Reagan the national eulogist hands off to Reagan the U.S. President. This passage contains the only political statement in the address and is targeted at the Soviet Union. He attacks the secrecy surrounding their failures which had irked American scientists who knew that shared knowledge was the best way to ensure the stability and safety of space programs.

In this direct address to NASA, Reagan gives needed encouragement and then turns back again to connect to the whole audience by saying “we share it.”

In closing, Reagan creates an eloquent and poetic moment. It captures the mythological sentiment surrounding humanity’s unending quest to solve the mysteries of the unknown. The phrase “touch the face of God”, was taken from a poem entitled “High Flight” written by John Magee, an American aviator in WWII. Magee was inspired to write the poem while climbing to thirty-three thousand feet in his Spitfire. It remains in the Library of Congress today.

Audience segmentation is helpful—but there’s more complexity to human beings than that. To make a personal connection, you have to bond with what it is in people that makes them human. Take time to analyze who they really are and you will gain valuable insights. Remember, people you don’t know are difficult to influence.

At the beginning of a movie, the hero’s likeability is established. The same applies to a presentation. Successful Hollywood screenwriter Blake Snyder coined the phrase “save the cat” to describe a hero’s likeability. Snyder says that a “save the cat” scene is “where we meet the hero and he or she does something—like saving a cat—that defines who he is and makes the audience like him.”⁶ By answering the questions on the right, you’ll uncover what makes your hero likeable.

Liking your audience members is the first step in being genuine with them. Study them. What would a walk in their shoes feel like? What keeps them up at night? What are they called to do that will make a difference on this earth? Imagine their lives by the day, hour, and minute.

Don’t forget, they are only human, living chaotic lives. They might be worrying about a sick child, might have slept poorly in a hotel bed, might be struggling with financial problems, or just might feel they’re not in their groove. Think about how your idea will take away some of the pressure they’re feeling if they act on it. Consider where they are.

These questions help you think beyond what they do and focus on who they are. There’s a difference. It’s not enough to know their titles. If you’re speaking at a Human Resources event where your audience will mainly consist of Directors of Human Resources, look online and get an idea of what their typical salaries are. Do they make enough money to manage? How do these people most likely spend their paychecks? Does their role tend to attract people with certain temperaments? Are they impulsive or systematic?

Keep answering the questions until you move away from what your audience members do for a job and begin to acquaint yourself with who they are as people. You can imagine their childhood. What games did they play? What was home life like? What TV shows shaped their psyche? Anything that will generate a connection.

Your goal is to figure out what your audience cares about and link it to your idea.

Now that you’ve spent time getting into the audiences’ hearts and heads, it’s time to look at your role as mentor.

Mentors are selfless and think of themselves in the context of others. These exercises will help you think about yourself in terms of what you can give the audience.

Your role as mentor is to influence the hero (audience) at critical junctures of their life. The mentor’s appearance in the journey is essential to moving the hero past the blockades of doubt and fear. Mentors usually have two major responsibilities: teaching and gift-giving.

In the movie The Karate Kid (1984), Mr. Miyagi not only teaches protégé Daniel the “tool” of karate; he gives him insights into the meaning of life:

Miyagi: What matter?
Daniel: I’m just scared. The tournament and everything.
Miyagi: You remember lesson about balance?
Daniel: Yeah.
Miyagi: Lesson not just karate only. Lesson for whole life. Whole life have a balance. Everything be better. Understand?

Miyagi was a pretty smart dude. He got his deck sanded, car washed, plus his fence and house painted out of the deal. At times, there’s benefit to the mentor, but the greater benefit should always be for the hero.

What deep insights can you provide to your audience? Tap into your own life experience and use it to give to them a sense of how it would feel to follow their calling more fully. Don’t lose sight of the role you are playing in their lives.

The purpose of your appearance in their grand drama is to provide the tools and magical gifts that will help them get unstuck and continue on their journey. Of course you have an agenda and information to get across—maybe you’re even trying to close a deal—but you should offer something more in your presentation.

The mentor should provide the hero with important, useful, previously unknown information. You should also motivate the hero when he is fearful or hesitant, and give the hero tools for his tool belt. These tools could be roadmaps for success, new communication techniques, or even insights into his soul. No matter what the tool is, the audience should leave each presentation knowing something they didn’t know before and with the ability to apply that knowledge to help them succeed.

You mustn’t come across as if the audience is helping you on your journey. You’re to be a gift to them. Every once in a while, mentors gain something from the relationship for themselves, like knowledge or insights—but that shouldn’t be your goal. An audience can always spot selfish motives.

Creating common ground with an audience is like clearing a pathway from their heart to yours.

By identifying and articulating shared experiences and goals, you build a path of trust so strong that they feel safe crossing to your side.

You develop credibility without coming across as arrogant. Even your magnificent qualifications should be revealed in a humble and selfless way that connects with them.

Focusing on commonalities bolsters credibility, so spend time uncovering similarities. Seek out shared experiences and goals that you can bring to the foreground. A presentation that creates common ground has the potential to unite a diverse group of people toward a common purpose—people who normally might never have unified because of their great diversity.

People set aside differences when they’re strongly connected to achieving a common goal.

If a presentation goes badly awry, it’s easy to blame the audience for misinterpretations and say, “That’s not what I meant. How could they be so dumb?” In the blame game, all ten fingers should be pointed at you, not the people “misinterpreting” your presentation. You chose the words and images to convey your idea; if it didn’t align with the audience’s experiences, you need to own up to the misunderstanding.

I had one of those “why doesn’t the audience get this obvious idea” moments when conveying our company vision in 2007. My employees are not blind; my communication was flawed. Having been through three significant economic downturns, it was easy to see the next one coming a mile away. I knew that the firm needed to make some immediate changes that would help us weather the storm. But to the team, everything seemed safe and stable. So when I delivered an urgent “danger is eminent” message, it backfired. At the end of my dramatic presentation, my employees sat stunned, feeling like I was trying to manipulate them by telling them the sky was falling. What I thought was a presentation dripping with insight and urgency, my young staff—who had only known prosperity and stability—perceived as manipulative.

My message and means of communication slowed progress to a crawl. A handful understood, but getting everyone on board proved almost insurmountable. It took an entire year to reframe the issues and build momentum. Even though a downturn was coming, the idea had no traction because I didn’t use symbols or experiences to which my audience could connect.

The audience chooses whether to connect to you or not. People will usually respond only if it’s in their best interest. Personal values will ultimately drive their behavior, so ideally you should identify and align with existing values.

Why do you have to go through all these questions about the audience and yourself? Connecting empathetically with an audience requires developing understanding and sensitivity to their feelings and thoughts.

It’s the presenter’s job to know and tune into the audience’s frequency. Your message should resonate with what’s already inside them. As a presenter, if you send a message that is tuned to the “frequency” of their needs and desires—they will change. They might even quiver with enthusiasm and move together to create beautiful results (page 7).

When you are close with someone, your shared experiences create shared meaning. My husband, Mark, will often speak just one word that is packed with ample meaning, and I’m beside myself with laughter. It is safe to say that you haven’t known your audience for thirty years—but if you research them enough, they will feel like a close friend. And friends can easily persuade each other using an inherent way of swaying one another toward their point of view.

Establishing how you’re alike also clarifies how you’re different. Once you’ve identified the overlap, you’ll have a clearer understanding of what’s outside the overlap that needs to be embraced by the audience.

Your objective is to find the most relevant and believable way to link your issue to your audience’s top values and concerns.

Good presentations lead an audience to a specific destination, and your audience won’t get there unless you map out where you want them to be when you’re finished presenting. A sailor who wanted to get to Hawaii would never simply jump into a boat, unfurl the sails, go wherever the wind took him, and expect to arrive there after a few days on the ocean. Traveling just doesn’t work that way—and neither do presentations. You have to set a course. Once you’ve set a destination, it will serve as a guide for developing the right content. Every bit of content you share should propel the audience toward that destination.

Remember, moving the audience from one place to another is the goal of every presentation. The audience will feel a sense of loss as they move away from their familiar world and closer to your perspective. You are persuading the audience to let go of old beliefs or habits, and adopt new ones. When people deeply understand things from a new perspective to the point where they feel inclined to change, that change begins on the inside (heart and mind) and ends on the outside (actions and behavior). However, this typically doesn’t happen without a struggle.

That struggle usually manifests as resistance—but you can harness that resistance and use it to your advantage if you plan well. When a sailboat’s sails are set correctly, it can sail into the wind and still harness the wind’s power. In fact, a boat can sail faster than the wind itself—even when the gusts are in the opposite direction. Of course you can’t control the strength of an audience’s resistance, but you can “adjust your sails” (message) and use that resistance to gain momentum. When properly harnessed, forces that seem counterproductive can lead to forward progress. However, the boat (your presentation) needs to move back and forth in order to get there, just like the Presentation Form.

The journey should be mapped out and all related messages should propel the audience closer to the destination.

Now you have established your big idea and determined your destination. But you also need a map—a persuasion plan. Persuasion involves asking your audience to change in one way or another, and change usually obligates people to move from their current way of being or acting and move to a new and different way of being or acting. Often, internal emotional changes must transpire before people manifest external change in their behavior.

Change is interesting to watch. We go to the movies or read a book to see the change that happens in the main character. This carefully planned change is called the character arc—the identifiable internal and external change that the hero endures.

When a screenplay is submitted for acquisition to a studio, a story analyst evaluates it by assessing the quality of the character arc. The story analyst determines the quality fairly quickly, simply by looking at the first and last pages of the script.

The first page sets up who the hero is when the movie begins and the last page determines how much the hero changed during its course. This quick assessment of a screenplay determines if the hero’s journey changed her at all. If the hero didn’t change enough, it’ll be a boring film.³ Great stories show growth and transformation in the characters.

In the same way a story analyst looks at the first and last page of a screenplay, you must envision and study your audience at the beginning of your presentation—and who you want them to be when they leave. Upon entering the room, your audience holds a point of view about your topic that you want to change.

You want to move them from inaction to action; you want them to leave the room holding your perspective as dear and committing to it. This won’t happen without a carefully planned map.

When planning your audience’s journey, you have to establish where they are and where you want to move them to. Identify both the inner and outer transformation you want to achieve. If you can persuade them to change internally, you will usually see results in their actions. This outward change proves that they understood and embraced your big idea. When beliefs change, actions follow.

You might be thinking, “Gosh, I’m just presenting at my staff meeting, I can skip this step.” Perhaps a better option, in that case, would be writing and distributing a report. Although, if your staff meeting is about the status of a project that is over budget, you better get in there and move them from thinking that being over budget is okay, to taking responsibility and working hard to ensure the budget gets back on track. This, then, is a persuasive situation that requires a clearly defined journey.

A big idea is that one key message you want to communicate. It contains the impetus that compels the audience to set a new course with a new compass heading. Screenwriters call this the “controlling idea.” It’s also been called the gist, the takeaway, the thesis statement, or the single unifying message.

There are three components of a big idea:

ONE A big idea must convey your unique perspective. Your audience showed up to hear you speak. They’re sitting there to learn your point of view, and you should clearly and completely articulate it. For example, “the fate of the oceans,” is only a topic, not a big idea. “Worldwide pollution is killing the ocean and us,” is a big idea with a unique perspective. Your big idea doesn’t need to be so unusual that no presenter has ever expressed it before. But it must be unique to you, not merely a generalization.

TWO A big idea must communicate what’s at stake. You need to articulate to the audience why they should care enough about your perspective to adopt it. The big idea, “Replenish the wetlands through new legislation,” doesn’t convey what’s at stake. In contrast, “Without better legislation, the destruction of the wetlands will cost the Florida economy $70 billion by 2025,” provides a strong reason to care. When you convey what’s at stake, you help your audience understand why they should participate and become heroes. Without compelling reasons for the audience to engage, your big idea won’t get off the ground.

THREE A big idea must be stated as a complete sentence. When you state your big idea as a complete sentence it forces you to use a noun and a verb. If presenters are asked what their presentation is about, they usually respond with phrases such as, “the third quarter update,” or “our company’s new software.” These are not big ideas. A big idea must be expressed in a complete sentence such as, “This software will increase your team’s productivity 10 percent and boost

revenues over the next year by $1 million.” Using “you” in the sentence makes it even better, because it ensures that you have a clear audience in mind.

Emotion is another important component to the big idea. Boiling down all of the various emotions simplifies this task. Ultimately, there are only two emotions—pleasure and pain. A truly persuasive presentation plays on those emotions to do one of the following:

• Raise the likelihood of pain and lower the likelihood of pleasure if they reject the big idea.
• Raise the likelihood of pleasure and lower the likelihood of pain if they accept the big idea.¹

For example, a business presentation that centers on “We are losing our competitive advantage” as its big idea, has nothing at stake. In contrast, the message “If we don’t regain our competitive advantage, your jobs are in jeopardy” makes it clear that there’s plenty at stake!

It appeals to employees’ human instinct to survive. Humans change when there is a threat and sense of urgency. In the January 2007 issue of Harvard Business Review, John P. Kotter explained “most successful change efforts begin when some individuals or groups start to look hard at a company’s competitive situation, market position, technological trends, and financial performance. They then find ways to communicate this information broadly and dramatically, especially with respect to crises, potential crises, or great opportunities that are very timely.”²

The gravity of the presentation should match the severity of the situation and accurately reflect what’s at stake—no more, no less.

Below is a list of words pulled from various articles on change management. It’s not an exhaustive list of every type of change, but it can help spark ideas for how you want your audience to be transformed.

People experience a sense of fear when they embark on a journey that involves change, because change has an element of the unknown. That is what makes it so frightening.

Change is about accepting the new and abandoning the old. New societies cannot rise unless old societies fall. If new technology emerges, it renders the old technology obsolete. In the presentation space, accepting something new often means sacrificing something held dear.

Sacrifice is defined as the surrender or destruction of something prized or desirable for the sake of something considered as having a higher or more pressing claim. Often, your audience can’t change without making a sacrifice. You need to make them understand that without sacrifice, there can be no reward.

To adopt your perspective, the audience has to, at a minimum, abandon what they previously held as true.

Changing their minds is like asking them to forsake an old friend who has stood by them for a long time. Losing an old friend is painful.

Even something seemingly trivial—like a forfeit of their time—might require them to risk something. Working late might mean missing volleyball practice or the chance to tuck their kids into bed at night. Be cognizant of the sacrifice the audience will make when you ask them to do something, because you’re asking them to give up a small—but still irretrievable—slice of their lives.

Audience resistance is usually related to the sacrifice they realize they will have to make. Presentations disrupt the audience’s contented stance. Perhaps they’ll have to give up time or money. You’re telling them they will be better off if they buy your product, or become more productive, or join a movement, but they think everything is okay the way it is.

Change requires a breaking down before there’s a building up, and this is where the audience needs the encouragement from the mentor most of all.

Audience transformation is guided along a grand plan similar to the metamorphosis of a butterfly. After the caterpillar creates a hard, protective cocoon, what happens on the inside is almost tumultuous. The solids of the caterpillar liquefy and regroup into a completely different form. A butterfly.

Refusal of the Call

There’s no doubt about it; most people do not enjoy change and will resist. An audience might understand your plea, and even mentally accept it, but they still might not be moved to action.

In the July 2008 issue of Harvard Business Review, John P. Kotter and Leonard A. Schlesinger reported, “All people who are affected by change experience some emotional turmoil. Even changes that appear to be ‘positive’ or ‘rational’ involve loss and uncertainty. Nevertheless, for a number of different reasons, individuals, or groups can react very differently to change—from passively resisting it, to aggressively trying to undermine it, to sincerely embracing it.”⁴

Some audience members will oppose your ideas or look for holes in your argument because if they don’t, they’re either forced to live with the contradiction between their old perspective and the new one you’ve “sold” them, or opt to change.

Their resistance can range from subtle skepticism to open revolt, and you must be prepared to deal with it. When you’re sailing into the wind, you can still move towards your destination, but you must adjust your “sails,” modifying your arguments to move audience members from aggressively attacking your message to whole-heartedly embracing it.

Carefully contemplate all the ways in which your audience might resist. What attitudes, fears, and limitations do they use as a tool to oppose implementing the idea? After identifying their reasons for refusal, use those concerns as inoculants. State the opposing points before they get a chance to refute your point.

An inoculation purposefully infects a person to minimize the severity of an infection. The same takes place when you empathetically address an audience’s refusals by stating them openly in your talk. This will help them see that you’ve thought through everything—which will decrease their anxiety.

It is not common for people to resist merely for the sake of resistance (although some do). In general, people resist because you’re asking them to take a risk or make a sacrifice, at least to some degree. For example, if you ask them to buy your company’s product it could make them worry that they’re putting their reputation at risk by committing company money to a product with an uncertain outcome.

Your audience may view what you experience as resistance in an entirely different light. From their perspective, it may seem that your message puts their credibility, reputation, or even their honor at risk. It may be that where you see resistance, they see valor. They feel they are responding appropriately to protect things they value and hold dear. Acknowledge their resistance while at the same time assuring them that with you, their mentor, they are in good hands.

Whether it’s based on altruism or ego, people like to make a difference with their lives. That difference could be something as modest as “make this a great place to work” or as lofty as “save lives in Ethiopia.”

No matter how engaging your presentation may be, no audience will act unless you describe a reward that makes it worthwhile. You must clearly articulate the ultimate gain for the audience, its extended sphere of influence, or perhaps even all of humanity. If your call to action is asking them to sacrifice their time, money, or ideals, you must be very clear about what the payoff will be.

Rewards should appeal to physical, relational, or self-fulfillment needs:

• Basic needs: The human body has basic needs like food, water, shelter, and rest. When any of those are threatened, people will risk life and limb to secure

them—even for someone else. People don’t like to see others’ basic needs go unmet, and this prompts generosity.

• Security: People want to feel secure and safe at home, at work, and at play. Physical, financial, or even technological security assures them that they are safe.
• Savings: Time and money are two precious commodities. Your presentation’s reward might be to save the audience time or create a generous return on their investment.
• Prize: This can be anything from a personal financial reward to gaining market share. It is the privilege of taking possession of something.
• Recognition: People relish being honored for their individual or collective efforts. Being seen in a new light, receiving a promotion, or gaining admission into something exclusive are all credits that can work.

• Relationship: People will endure a lot for the promise of community with a group of folks who make a difference. A reward can be as simple as a victory celebration with those they love.
• Destiny: Guiding the audience toward a life-long dream fulfills the need for being valued. Offer the audience a chance to live up to their full potential.

In light of these categories, ask yourself: what is it that the audience gets in exchange for changing? What is in it for them? What do they gain by adopting your perspective or buying your product? What value does it bring to them?

As you’ve learned from The Hero’s Journey, the hero leaves the ordinary world, enters a special world, and returns not only changed as a human being, but bearing an Elixir—a reward for having taken the journey. The reward for your audience should be proportional to the sacrifice they have made.