I recently witnessed the most terrifying situation imaginable for a public speaker. Thankfully, I wasn’t the one holding the mic.
I am at a conference in Italy. Earlier that day I spoke on the main stage to an engaged, attentive audience. Now it is dinner time. Everyone is seated, hungry, and waiting for barbecued food.
The organisers rattle through a few formalities, thank the host team, and then invite a guest speaker forward.
Besides the fact that people are eyeing the kitchen doors, the set-up is tough: a large hall dotted with round tables, no stage, just a few TV screens relaying the speaker’s image. The man is still physically visible, standing in the centre of the room.
He starts. I cannot understand the words, as he is speaking in Italian, but I can hear the problem: a low rumble of conversation. Not everyone is paying attention.
I watch closely, hoping he will do something to grab the room. Instead, he plants his feet, microphone in one hand, notes in the other, and addresses only the nearest two tables. I know this is not going to work.
The chatter grows louder. The stress shows on his face, yet he speaks on. Soon the entire table around me is wondering aloud whether anyone can hear him.
Eventually his voice fades away completely. Did the tech team mute his mic? I keep looking at him out of respect, but I notice that only four people – those right in front of him – are still listening.
He finishes, sweating and short-of-breath. A polite ripple of applause follows. His own gesture seems less like thank you and more like thank goodness that’s over.
He sits. The ordeal ends. I ask the Italian speakers at my table if they caught a single line. They shake their heads.
What Went Wrong?
After the event I replay the scene. The fault was not the content or the language barrier. The single, fatal mistake was failing to captivate the audience in the first few seconds.
True, the host should have hushed the room before handing over, but once the microphone changed hands there was only one route to success: force the audience to focus, immediately.
Two Simple Ways to Command Attention
- Clink a glass
A universal, socially acceptable signal that says listen up. - Say it plainly
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.” Delivered loudly and firmly, those words alone can hush a room.
That is the bare minimum. Silence buys you a fresh slate. But now the real work begins.
Engage Them Right Away
In a long hall the task is harder, yet the audience expectation is unchanged: they will listen only if they feel you are talking to them. No one chats to someone else when you are speaking directly to them.
An effective tactic would have been to involve the crowd:
- Ask for a quick show of hands.
- Invite a cheer or a “yes” to a simple question.
- Get them to shout out an answer.
- Walk around to room while having this interaction.
Comedians do this. It forces every table to take part and signals that the speech will be interactive, not a monologue. If the prompt sparks a laugh, even better.
In quieter rooms this technique still works, but you can also rely on classic hooks – leap straight into a story, deploy a startling fact, use a rhetorical question.
Because if you do not engage your audience from the outset, you lose them forever. They leave with nothing, and you leave with a painful memory.
Presenting before or during meals is hard. But if your message is strong and your delivery engaging, you might just put dinner on the backburner.