Boredom as an ally
How often has a colleague asked you to look at their presentation and give them feedback? How often have you asked a colleague for feedback about something you’re going to present? Let’s start there—if we aren’t doing this, why not? Do we think the presentation is already great? Or—and I think this is more likely—do we already suspect it isn’t that interesting or valuable? If we aren’t willing to take up someone’s time to get feedback on a presentation, then why do we want to take up a whole group of people’s time to listen to it?
We treat our professional presentations—in fact all of our communications at work—as if they are somehow filling time. In the same way we are required to spend time working, we are required to fill our time at work with “content.” We are told how long the presentation needs to be and what the topic will be, and then we fill the time. We may be passionate about our area of expertise, passionate about our jobs. We try to give a great presentation! But somewhere in a dark corner, we don’t really believe that what we have to say matters to anyone else. They’re attending the presentation because they have to, and we’re giving it because we have to. It’s our job. We’ll try to make it fun, but within a limited framework. We won’t risk doing something unusual or embarrassing, like asking someone to look at the presentation and give us critical feedback.
But let’s say we push through that embarrassment. We ask someone for feedback. How often do people use the word “boring” in their feedback?
It’s boring! Your presentation is just not that interesting.
Most people do not hear this or say this at work. And yet, most people agree that most presentations they see at work are, in fact, boring. A waste of time. Painful, even. Mind-numbing.
Why are we doing this to each other? We mean well, and yet we are torturing our colleagues. Despite our best intentions.
It doesn’t stop at presentations either. What about meetings? Everyone seems to agree that there are “too many” meetings. Or that the time in meetings is somehow not well-spent. And yet we keep having them. We are willing to admit this is a problem in general, but we aren’t willing to accept that we might be part of the problem. What is a meeting but a short presentation with some discussion after? How much thought to we put into preparing for what we need to say in a meeting?
This is a terrible disease afflicting our workplaces, but we have the cure at hand. Boredom. Boredom is the cure!
We need to make an ally out of our boredom, out of our discomfort, out of our longing for something more. We need to recognize and accept when what’s being shared just isn’t compelling. We need to start asking questions of our colleagues and our leaders.
Do you really care about this? Why is this important to you? If you said nothing and did nothing, what would we be missing? Do you make a difference at your job?
These aren’t easy questions. Most people aren’t willing to ask them or answer them. And most people give dull, forgettable presentations that move no one to change anything in their lives. Their presentations are neither interesting nor effective.
Another way is possible, but it requires taking the risk of acknowledging what’s really going on. It also means we have to take the risk of valuing the time we spend at work. Of demanding that even at work, we deserve to be challenged, engaged, and inspired. And we have to do the work to offer that to others.
You might be bored. Admit it. And do something different.
