The boat operator stops and points to the shore with excitement. My wife and I exchange curious glances—we must have reached one of the highlights of the ride. But as we follow his gesture, we nearly shriek in horror…
Just moments ago, we had stepped out of a famous tourist attraction when a broker approached us, selling boat rides. Seeing Bangkok’s floating markets was high on my wife’s must-do list, and given that we were on our honeymoon, it sounded like the perfect romantic experience.
So, we bought our tickets, hopped on the boat, and set off on what we expected to be a serene escapade. Then came the first stop. We had heard about vendors selling goods from boats, so we braced ourselves for a charming cultural scene. Instead, we were met with the sight of a nearly two-metre-long water monitor lizard lounging on the shore—just a few feet away from us. The romantic honeymoon vibe took an unexpected turn.
As the tour continued, we encountered more water monitors, some casually swimming alarmingly close to our very low boat. It felt like a horror movie as we clung to each other, silently hoping none of these creatures would decide to hop aboard and check how our honeymoon was going.
After navigating through—let’s just say, rather unpicturesque—backstreets, the boat finally dropped us inside a chaotic fish market. We grasped each other’s hands, dodging slippery puddles and the overpowering smell of seafood, just relieved to have made it out alive.
Thailand remains one of our favourite destinations, and our honeymoon was delightfully memorable. But this particular experience is etched in our minds—for all the wrong reasons.
Now, the person who sold us this “romantic” boat ride was, by some measure, successful. He made a sale. As a salesperson and public speaker, he convinced us. But in doing so, he left such a lasting impression that, even years later, we still question the integrity of someone who so confidently sold us a dream yet delivered a disaster.
The Public Speaking Lesson
As public speakers, our responsibility doesn’t end when we finish speaking. It doesn’t even end when we achieve a sale, convince an audience, or win a deal. The real test comes afterward—when people reflect, engage with our ideas, and see if our message holds up. If we mislead them, we haven’t just lost their trust; we’ve failed in our duty as communicators.
I therefore suggest two principles every speaker should uphold:
- Be Sold on What You’re Selling
As speakers, we are always selling something—a product, a service, an idea. But do we believe in our own words? Is what we’re saying actually true? If we can’t stand behind our message with conviction, we shouldn’t be delivering it.
- Be an Agent of Change
If we can’t fully support what we’re promoting, we have two choices: either change the message or improve what we’re selling. If a product or service isn’t good enough, it’s our duty as its spokesperson to push for better. If our argument is weak, we must refine it. Integrity means taking responsibility for what we share with our audience.
Public speakers are in the business of influencing others. With that influence comes a moral obligation to do right by our audience. A tactical win earned through deception will eventually backfire—on our reputation, our business, and our credibility.
So, be honest. Don’t sell honeymooners a romantic swim with water monitors.