Simplicity

I am strangely fascinated by the philosophical debates about PowerPoint. Edward Tufte, who’s a hero of ours, is virulently opposed to PowerPoint. I’m someone who uses it constantly, so it would be a bit hypocritical for me to rant against it. True, I think it enables a lot of our worst tendencies (being verbose, summarizing rather than unpacking, using bulletized abstractions rather than concrete examples, thinking in terms of a collection of points rather than a storyline, “telling” rather than teasing, etc. … as a matter of fact, this parenthetical comment is itself rather PowerPointian). But I also have to say that the existence of Krispy Kreme enables a lot of my worst tendencies, too, and I don’t have an unkind word to say about them. It’s certainly *possible* to create a kick-ass PowerPoint, and it’s certainly *possible* not to eat a half-dozen doughnuts when you walk in KK. So.

In the WSJ, Lee Gomes has interviewed the inventors of PowerPoint to get their take on the anti-PPT criticisms. The surprise: They basically agree. Here’s an excerpt:

Mr. Gaskins and Mr. Austin, now 63 and 60, respectively, reflected on PowerPoint’s creation and its current omnipresence in an interview last week. They are intensely proud of their technical and strategic successes. But to a striking degree, they aren’t the least bit defensive about the criticisms routinely heard of PowerPoint. In fact, the best single source of PowerPoint commentary, both pro and con, (including a rich vein of Dilbert cartoons) can be found at RobertGaskins.com, his personal home page.

Perhaps the most scathing criticism comes from the Yale graphics guru Edward Tufte, who says the software “elevates format over content, betraying an attitude of commercialism that turns everything into a sales pitch.” He even suggested PowerPoint played a role in the Columbia shuttle disaster, as some vital technical news was buried in an otherwise upbeat slide.

No quarrel from Mr. Gaskins: “All the things Tufte says are absolutely true. People often make very bad use of PowerPoint.”

Mr. Gaskins reminds his questioner that a PowerPoint presentation was never supposed to be the entire proposal, just a quick summary of something longer and better thought out. He cites as an example his original business plan for the program: 53 densely argued pages long. The dozen or so slides that accompanied it were but the highlights.

Since then, he complains, “a lot of people in business have given up writing the documents. They just write the presentations, which are summaries without the detail, without the backup. A lot of people don’t like the intellectual rigor of actually doing the work.”

I forgot to blog this when it happened, but consider it a historical pointer. SlideShare ran the “World’s Best Presentation Contest.” Winners are here. My primary comment is that I hope these are not, in fact, the world’s best presentations. Not to be a downer.

The winners are all extremely strong as examples of graphic design and layout. And that’s great, but that’s not the same thing as a great presentation. In many cases, the stunning visuals aren’t used in the service of a sticky idea. The visuals aren’t used to make ideas concrete, they’re simply adding decoration. For instance, check out the presentation for the Sustainable Food Lab. This is a great example of a feel-good presentation — anyone who watches it will say, “Wow, that was cool.” And a week later, no one will remember anything about it. There’s no focus, there’s no sharp unexpected hook to call us to attention, there’s no story. I wish it were stickier — it’s a great cause.

Check out Gavin Baker’s post discussing an interview with Gary Erickson, the founder/owner of Clif Bar. One quote from Erickson: “For me, stories are useful for a couple of reasons. First is, I’m not very technical when it comes to business. I can talk a bit of techno-language and theory, but it’s boring. Second, people relate to and remember stories. Their eyes roll back in their heads when you start talking theory, but stories are engaging. People are inspired by stories and parables.” And thanks to Gavin for linking the interview with our book!

Here’s an excerpt from a punchy, funny book review by Richard J. Tofel that you won’t be able to read because it’s in the WSJ. The book being reviewed is 101 Mission Statements from Top Companies by Jeffrey Abrahams. Chip and I are both continually shocked by the fact that the average corporate mission statement is long on statement and short on mission.

Alcoa is a big company. They make some of the best aluminum on Earth. Once upon a time, they made all of the aluminum, but that is another story. Our story is about vision. What is Alcoa’s vision? “At Alcoa, our vision is to be the best company in the world.” What?

Hershey is a less-big company. They make some of the best chocolate on Earth. Hershey has a 65-word mission. It includes “Undisputed Marketplace Leadership” and “top-tier value creation” from a “portfolio of brands.” Not one of the 65 words is “chocolate.” Huh? …

In fact, a certain kind of mission statement — well phrased and properly promulgated — can inspire companies and the people who work in them. It can help managers remember what they’re trying to accomplish and what’s beyond the scope of their enterprise. It can guide a company’s decisions about allocating capital. But to do so it must have content, and most of the samples on display in “101 Mission Statements” don’t.

A few pass the test, though. Johnson & Johnson’s adherence to its “credo” saved the company from disaster. Its pledge of “first responsibility” to “doctors, nurses and patients, to mothers and fathers” was cited, in 1982, as the reason for the famous recall of Tylenol, one of J&J’s products. Ben & Jerry’s sells not just fine ice cream but “euphoric concoctions.” (True enough.) The Coca-Cola Co.’s flagship product is so iconic that the company can allude to its own historic advertising when defining its ambition: “to benefit and refresh everyone it touches.”

Achieving such clarity does not require that companies operate in an especially exciting line of work. Progressive Insurance’s vision is prosaic but compelling: “to reduce the human trauma and economic costs associated with automobile accidents.”

As always, a sense of humor can make a difference. What defines the identity of a particular breakfast-food manufacturer? Not the key words “excellence” or “shareholders” or even “unique.” Instead, the Kellogg Co. says of itself: “We build Gr-r-reat brands and make the world a little happier by bringing our best to you.” When you get it right, you can even leave out the word “cereal.”

Check out this NYT article from Sunday — there’s a great high-concept pitch in it. Thanks to John Moore for the link. The money excerpt:

In 2000, Mr. Barr and Nils B. Lahr, a former Microsoft engineer, started Synergy Sports Technology in Phoenix, to bring together for N.B.A. coaches fine-grained statistics matched with associated video clips. Want to stop Dirk Nowitzki of the Dallas Mavericks? Synergy’s system has recorded every offensive step Mr. Nowitzki has made since he joined the league in 1998. Synergy has captured, for example, how successful he is driving right, or left, differentiating between home and away games, and further slicing and dicing into sub-sub-sub-categories. Click on any statistic and you can get video clips from the last three seasons of 20, or 50, or even 2,000 plays that show Nowitzki making that particular move.

Four teams signed up for Synergy’s beta service in the 2004-05 season. Mark Cuban, the owner of one of those intrepid first teams, the Dallas Mavericks, liked what he saw and became Synergy’s primary outside investor. When the service was formally rolled out for the 2005-06 season, the two teams that reached the finals happened to be the Mavericks and the Miami Heat, another Synergy client.

Most teams, however, did not jump to subscribe, and Mr. Barr groped for the most effective way of describing the value of his service to general managers. When he tried the phrase “it’s Google for basketball,” one manager excitedly said, “Now that’s something I can take to my owner.”