Physically Incorrect

I’d like to use this post and make a heartfelt request of all scientists who don’t know how to give good lectures: stop. Please, I surrender. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t bear to see another lecture that starts with a bulleted “outline” and ends with a bulleted “conclusions”.  I’ll be good, just - I beg you, not another checkered powerpoint entrance.  I’ll read all your papers in full, not just the abstracts, I swear, just make it stop!

I don’t remember how many bad lectures I’ve attended in the past year, but I do know one thing: they’ve outnumbered the good ones at least ten-to-one. I still go, of course, because scientific lectures are all about social networking. It’s what you do in the breaks that counts. See and be seen and all that. But, seeing as we’ve all convened at one point, is it really too much to ask to be inspired? Moved? Motivated? To learn something new? If I get treated to one more needless cutesy PowerPoint animation I’ll snap.

Ok, time out. Things aren’t that bad. I’m not homicidal, really. Really, come now. Don’t run away next time we meet in a lecture hall. Why, that bulge under my coat doesn’t look like a two-barrel shotgun at all.  Seriously, though, the current state of affairs of the oral communication of science is quite sad. When did going to science talks become such a chore? When did the need to bribe the listeners with cake and coffee become a necessity? (What’s that? You mean to tell me you didn’t know those were bribes? And to think you’ve sold your soul for a box of Oreos.) Whatever happened to the thirst for knowledge?

I’ll let you in on the secret. People just don’t have a clue what lecturing is all about. Scientists have this weird idea that giving a lecture is all about them. Well, it’s not. It’s about me. It’s about the audience. It’s about giving something to your audience - insight, motivation, inspiration. Something. Nobody cares about your research. Everybody sitting in front of you is a selfish bastard. You’re one too, by the way. If you want to win them over, if you want your lecture to have meaning, to be remembered, to be enjoyed, you’d better learn that, and the sooner the better. Before drawing, saying or showing anything, ask yourself just one thing: have I contributed in any way to the people sitting in front of me? If the answer is no, don’t show it, don’t say it, don’t present it, or find some alternative way of doing so.

What really ticks me off is the inability - no, the unwillingness - of the scientific community to change the status quo. Scientists are eager to tell the world about their research. They see a stage and they think it’s their opportunity to dump every single thought or insight they’ve had in the past year on their listeners. Well, I’m not your recycle bin. This desperate attempt to tell one’s listeners everything one knows leads to the well known glazed-eyes-effect, or its related cousin, the let’s-nod-and-look-like-we’re-following-what’s-being-said-although-we’re-clueless effect. If you’re a scientist you have to understand I’m giving you my precious time for a reason. I could’ve made myself a cup of coffee and relax, or finish my report, or play tetris (I’d never do that during office hours of course! Shame on you for thinking that). If scientists were just a bit less selfish and greedy they’d focus on their audience instead of themselves and on quality instead of quantity, which would make all the difference.

As a public service I’m outlining five iron clad rules for giving a scientific presentation. Please, for the love of God, follow them.

1. Tell me a story. Your presentation has to have a theme that ties it all together. It has to have one, and only one main conclusion, idea or result. Nobody can digest more than one new idea per presentation. Make me understand how it came to you and what sort of thought process led you to the results you obtained.

2. Sentences belong in books and papers. If I see sentences on a powerpoint slide, I get dizzy. Stop putting them there, they’re obnoxious. If it’s more than a phrase, think twice.  If you have something to say, say it. If you want to make sure I get your point, say it twice, or make an illustration or animation. If I see a huge blob of text on the screen I know it’s nap-time. If you’re using David 12 and reading off the slide, I might just tamper with your car brakes.

3. Don’t make the slides the center of attention while you stand behind the podium, gripping its sides. I didn’t come to read a bunch of slides off the wall, I’ve got papers and books for that purpose. I didn’t come to have you read them to me, either. Make yourself useful. Some people would kill for 15 minutes of fame, don’t squander yours. Make yourself - your narrative, your movements - the center of the lecture. Use slides only to illustrate your main points. People don’t connect well to static images on a wall, they connect to other people (I mean you). Smile, even if it’s fake. I don’t care. And look enthusiastic. If you’re not enthusiastic about your own research, why would I ever be?

4. Teach me something. If I can walk away from a lecture feeling I’ve learned something new that in some way makes me a better scientist, I’ll be a happy man. If you can’t teach me, at least give me a new and fresh way of looking at things I already know. Speakers get confused at this point. “Aren’t we teaching our audience new things by showing them our results?” No, you’re not. You’re informing me, not teaching me. For it to be called teaching, it must be linked to my current body of knowledge. If I don’t understand why you’ve measured what you’ve measured and why I would want to measure it, everything you say will just go in one ear and out the other. It will be meaningless. Always ask yourself: am I teaching my audience or merely informing it?

5. Finally, keep the equations down to a minimum. When I say a minimum, I actually mean zero. And please, if you have to put in equations, leave derivations out of it. Dirac used to say that if he couldn’t guess the solution to an equation without solving it he didn’t really understand it. What makes you think I’d like to see 4 slides of integrals? I can’t follow anything changing that fast anyway. This rule applies even if you’re a mathematician. There is always a better way of explaining something than splashing the slide with Greek.

I can think of lots of other points, but I’ll take a rest here. I hope I’ve made you look at giving presentations differently. If you need inspiration, check out TED, which has some pretty good speakers. That’s all for today - good luck with your presentations, and don’t forget to practice your talks diligently before giving them!