August 2015 | Volume 17
The Speechwriter
Newsletter of the UK Speechwriters' Guild
Welcome
Welcome to the seventeenth
edition of The Speechwriter
newsletter. The purpose of
this publication is to circulate
examples of excellent speeches to
members of the UK Speechwriters’
Guild. We do this by picking out
openings, closings, one-liners
and quotations and other topical
extracts from newspapers and the
internet to identify techniques,
stimulate your imagination and
provide models which you can
emulate.
This newsletter appears
quarterly and is available to
anyone who is a Standard
Member of the UK Speechwriters’
Guild or the European
Speechwriter Network.
Contribute
We welcome book reviews,
speeches and articles for the
magazine. Every contribution
published gets a £10 Amazon
token. Please send your
submissions to:
8 info@ukspeechwritersguild.co.uk
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
EUROPEAN
incorporating
SPEECHWRITER
NETWORK
MASTERCLASS by Richard Lanham
Professor Richard Lanham, from the University of California,
wrote a book The Economics of Attention. The book sweeps
across many art forms, but he focuses on the problem that we
are now swamped with information - what we lack is the time
and concentration to pay attention and make sense of it. He
says that rhetoric is the answer.
Castiglione, in his Renaissance Book
of the Courtier, built a conception of
civilised behaviour around it that he
called sprezzatura - a well-rehearsed
spontaneity.
• We think words ought to come
to us as naturally as breathing,
without artifice. And, we also
think, they should be understood
in the same way. They should be
transparent and unselfconscious.
Revising word, image, or sound
violates these unconscious
• ‘Rhetoric’ has not always been
a synonym for humbug. For most assumptions. To look at the
of Western history, it has meant the expressive surface, reflect on how
body of doctrine that teaches people we have communicated what we
how to speak and write, and thus, wish to, puts pressure on what we
act effectively in public life. Usually have said. We look at it as a stranger
defined as ‘the art of persuasion’, it might, or try to. We think about what
might as well have been called ‘the we have said with a different side of
economics of attention’. It tells us the brain. We will then see, especially
how to allocate our central scarce if we have been trained in revision,
resource, to invite people to attend where and how we have failed to ‘say
to what we would like them to attend what we wanted to say.’ This involves
to. Rhetoric has been the central more work, and more drafts. We put
repository of wisdom on how we pressure, in this way, on our own
make sense of and use information thinking.
since the Greeks first invented it…
• What grabs people’s attention?
• Rhetorical figures are patterns There are verbal patterns that grab
of speech or writing that provide people’s attention, information
patterns for thought. always come in some kind of
package.
• Rhetoric teachers have always
advocated, as the final talent, the • Style will determine which
inspired improvisation that emerges arguments we pause to consider.
from profound preparation. Baldesar
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17 2

Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild

BOOK REVIEWS often gripping and bang up to date.

He ranges far and wide, from popes,
Winning Minds: secrets
presidents and prime ministers to from the language of
by Alan Barker Hopper in A Bug’s Life and Gorgo, leadership
Queen of Sparta (in 300). These by Simon Lancaster
examples shine. Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, £19.99
Speechwriting for
Leaders: Speeches that
leave people wanting
more (Kindle Edition)
by Charles Crawford,
Diplomatic Courier, Washington DC,
2014, £9.63

Powerful, too, is his insight into

the political speechwriter’s role:
congenial but often massively
frustrating. Crawford offers solid
advice on how to make yourself ‘the
source of authoritative guidance
for the whole organisation on every
aspect of the leader’s public speaking
agenda.’

After which, his foray into

corporate leadership seems a pallid Books for leaders – and for
diversion. The chapter on business aspiring leaders – need to combine
speeches opens with Gerald Ratner pragmatism, intellectual credibility
(much re-heated) and limps through and flair. Many leaders are ex-
notes on AGMs, conference speeches, managers: they’re seeking the key to
thought-leader speeches, after- inspiring others, not just to do things
‘In a great speech,’ writes Charles right, but to do the right thing. They
dinner speeches, crisis response and
Crawford in his introduction, want ideas that are powerful but
‘Making important announcements
‘everything fits like a jigsaw: words, not complicated, delivered in a style
such as launching new products’. It
emotional tone, audience, occasion, that’s racy without being superficial.
feels generic and lacks the acerbic
context, and message.’ His aim in this
wit that derives from hard-won
much-heralded and conspicuously Simon Lancaster manages all
experience.
praised book is to show how this with aplomb. Other political
speechwriters can put the jigsaw speechwriters have tried to transfer
Read Crawford for his insider tips.
together, for leaders at the very their attention to the broader canvas
At one point, he quotes one of his
highest level. ‘Speechwriting at this of corporate leadership, not always
satisfied trainees: ‘I really like the fact
level,’ he asserts, ‘is different.’ successfully. Lancaster at least shows
that you are so intolerant on points
of detail.’ ‘She was right,’ he purrs, that he’s worked with leaders outside
Crawford comes well equipped the Westminster bubble.
invoking the jigsaw again: one or two
to discuss high politics. Years of
ugly holes, where pieces are missing,
experience in the diplomatic corps His aim is to link rhetoric and
are what people will notice first. But
– in South Africa, in the Balkans, in neuroscience. I was taken, for
scattered aperçus, however carefully
Poland – have yielded numerous example, with his observation
assembled, do not a method make.
anecdotes, both triumphant and that figures of speech might have
As you wade through the final three
catastrophic, straight from the specific psychological effects.
pages of testimonials, you’re liable
diplomatic bag (raw photocopies Take asyndeton, the omission of
to conclude that the only way to
of his reports sit at the back of the conjunctions: the resulting short,
really benefit from Charles Crawford’s
book). His insights are entertaining, sharp clauses imply rapid, shallow
wisdom would be to hire him.

W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K • INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
breathing and hence anxiety (one
of Cameron’s typical rhetorical
strategies, he tells us). Lancaster
suggests that ‘new developments
in behavioural economics and
neuroscience’ show Aristotle’s
theories to have been ‘astonishingly
accurate’. Some of his references are
entirely predictable: Damassio and
Kahneman, Goleman and the Heath
brothers. Others are refreshingly
offbeat. We’re more likely to believe
statements when they’re simply
repeated, it seems – or if they contain
rhymes.
The framework Lancaster chooses
to structure the book isn’t, in fact,
new at all. Paul MacLean’s theory of
the triune brain appeared back in the
1960s; Lancaster has a go at aligning
it to Aristotle’s three musketeers.
Logos maps to the neocortex, and
pathos to the limbic, ‘emotional brain’.
The fit between ethos and MacLean’s
‘reptilian brain’ – which Lancaster
renames ‘the instinctive brain’ – feels
more forced, although the point that
we expect our leaders to provide
security and rewards is well made.
Lancaster fits his various tools and
techniques into these three neural
compartments. He clearly thinks the
‘instinctive brain’ by far the most
important: he devotes 82 pages to it,
compared to 47 for emotion and only
34 for the ‘logical brain’.
He also touches on Joe Griffin and
Ivan Tyrell’s APET model – without
acknowledging them, which is a
shame. Griffin and Tyrell stress the
importance of pattern-matching: we
create meaning by filtering sensory
impressions through mental patterns,
some inherited and some learned,
and ‘tagging’ them emotionally.
These matches are mediated by the
limbic system, which regulates the
hormonal responses Lancaster is
so keen on: the book is filled with
‘squirts’ of dopamine, serotonin and
oxytocin. So the division between
‘instinct’ and ‘emotion’ seems fuzzier
than he implies.
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
3
Unsurprisingly, language is
Lancaster’s forte. The chapters on
WORDS OF WISDOM
metaphor and story are among his
best. You want to understand a
leader? ‘Analyse their metaphors.’
What’s your personal story? How
does it demonstrate your values?
How do organisations assemble
stories into cultures? Any manager
seeking to transform themselves into
a leader will find Lancaster’s answers
useful.
And he understands the great
rhetorical lesson is that appearances
are everything. If you can’t be
honest – and leaders often face that
challenge – then you must create ‘the
illusion of honesty’. The logical brain
responds, not to actual logic, but to
P arty political speeches and
broadcasts are not effective
in changing people’s voting habits,
‘the appearance of logic’. but they do help to confirm the
preferences already held. Sermons
Which doesn’t set us up very well rarely convince agnostics, but
for the final section. If the logical they give solidarity to the faithful.
brain is interested only in what seems Similarly, lectures are ineffective in
logical – well, what price rational changing people’s values, but they
thinking? (But then, rhetoric and may reinforce those that are already
logic have always enjoyed a stormy accepted.
relationship.)
Elections dominated by television
It’s hard to see how tricolons and other media presentations
have much to do with logic. And sometimes lead to disenchantment
the Ciceronian speech structure with politicians generally. There is a
(Exposition, Narration, Division and good reason for this.
the rest) is surely not an exercise in
balance (to which Lancaster devotes Presentations can produce doubt
a whole chapter). When did you ever by giving negative information that
hear a great leader open a speech is inconsistent with the values of
with ‘On the one hand...’? the audience; but arousing positive
enthusiasm requires something quite
This final section loses different. Enthusiasm, and motivation
momentum. It’s a pity, because generally, cannot be given in
so much of the book is genuinely presentations such as broadcasts and
insightful and readable. lectures. Motivation is an inner flame
that has to be there already.
There’s a hidden lesson in this
book. It’s never stated explicitly, but Passive reception of information
Lancaster’s examples of imaginary will not fan the flame (unless there is
speeches point up a skill that’s critical an emotionally prepared mind). That
for speechwriters, and probably for requires energy and activity in the
leaders as well: an endless curiosity mind of the receiver.
about general knowledge.
What’s The Use of Lectures? By Donald
Bligh
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
PUBLIC SPEECH
Igniting the heart or
extinguishing the will to
live? Why imagination
matters for speech
writers
by Rev Dr Kate Bruce at the 10th
Speechwriters and Business
Communicators Conference at
Westminster College, Cambridge 16
April 2015
Igniting the heart or extinguishing
the will to live?
On reflection – embarking on
a speech amongst an audience of
professional speech writers, with this
title – may have been a tad unwise.
‘A small voice inside me is saying ‘a
tad unwise?
A tad unwise??
Downright suicidal.’
Well – a bit of background.
I have always loved language.
I spent seven years in secondary
English teaching,
Helping young people to see the
importance of mastering language in
all its forms.
I’ve been a minister in the Church
of England for the last 14 years.
I do really wear a dog collar –
when I have to.
(Contrary to popular
misconception I did not witness a
murder and I am not being hidden
in the Church of England as part of a
witness protection programme. My
name is, regrettably, not Delores van
Cartier).
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
I have a doctorate in
communication.
No pressure there then.
I teach a variety of subjects in a
theological college.
My main interest is in helping
would be vicars how to preach. From
time to time I travel around the
country helping preachers to work
on the craft of their task.
I am a preacher myself – with
leanings towards stand-up comedy.
I am aware of the variety of
responses which the word ‘preacher’
might generate.
I labour against the stereotype of
authoritarian, declamatory, hectoring
speech which brooks no opposition.
The anti-sermon with its language
that mugs, mutes and manipulates.
I wrestle with the reality of the
half-baked sermon.
Well-meaning pontificating pulpit
patter of the ‘should’ and ‘ought’
variety.
I want the speech of the Church
to strengthen and support; equip
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
4
and encourage; challenge and
change.
Transformative speech pulsing
with possibility.
Speech which sings a new song,
in the cadences of hope.
‘Public speech: Igniting the heart or
extinguishing the will to live?
Why imagination matters for
speech writers.
Well, I learned from the PhD that
you should always define your terms.
Igniting the heart?
I mean speech which catches the
hearer’s vision, raises the inner cheer,
the nod of recognition.
The inner: ‘Yes… I’m right with
you,’
I mean speech which lights up
the ears.
Extinguishing the will to live?
Speaks for itself. Let’s not go
there. Please…
Why imagination matters for
speechwriters?
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
Well we’ll get to that in a moment.
‘Public speech: Igniting the heart or
extinguishing the will to live?
In the age of the digital, the fast
moving image, the all-pervasive
camera, I want to bat for the
enduring power and punch of the
spoken word. Stale words – mouldy language.
But then I would, given my
background.
I expect you would too – being
wordsmiths yourselves.
Effective human speech has
power and punch. No question.
- ‘Four score and seven years ago
our fathers brought forth on this
continent a new nation…’
- ‘Ask not what your country can
do for you…’
- ‘Never was so much owed to so
many by so few…’
- ‘I have a dream’
Effective human speech has
transformative power.
Language can transform the base
metal of the mundane into the gold
of new apprehension.
Words can cause the heart to
catch.
Words can open our eyes to
glimpse new vistas of possibility.
Words can open up the moment
of disclosure – ‘Aha, now I get it.’
Suddenly the penny drops
and the lights go up and we see
something as we have never seen it
before.
Words do things.
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
Ah but – (there’s always an ah but
isn’t there?)
Don’t words also have the
capacity to bore us to death?
The flattened ‘blah blah blah’ of
the predictable.
The empty ‘Yadda Yadda Yadda’ –
which leaves us thinking ‘heard it all
before;
‘Meanwhile we are all getting
older…’
Ah but – (here we go again)
Don’t words also have the
capacity to distort reality?
Airbrush out inconvenient truths.
A dead body is still a dead body.
Never mind that they call it ‘collateral
damage’ .
A bullet in the head is still a bullet
in the head – ‘friendly fire’ or not.
Words can bring us to death,
never mind bore us there.
And yet…
For all its capacity for death-
dealing distortion, language is still
laden with hope-filled potential.
Capable of painting vistas of new
possibility.
And let’s face it – if we cannot
articulate our hope for the future, we
have no future to work towards.
Whatever your religious
perspective.
The writer of the Book of Proverbs
had a point: ‘Without vision the
people perish.’
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
5
A few years ago I came across a
book called ‘And Finally Comes the
Poet’ by an American theologian,
Walter Brueggemann.
It’s a book addressed to
preachers.
As a preacher and a teacher
of the art of preaching, I read his
introduction and I thought – ‘Bugger.
This guy is saying what I have always
thought.
And he’s saying it way better’.
Brueggemann astutely observes
that ‘reduced speech leads to
reduced lives’.
By reduced speech he means
language which trivializes human
need and flattens out our capacity to
wonder and dream.
Speech that mutes the cry of
anguish; speech that peddles the
snake oil of easy answers; which
whispers ‘all is well’ when all is not.
This is language which snuffs out
the candle.
And whistles in the dark.
In contrast Brueggemann calls
for ‘alternative modes of speech’;
speech which is dramatic, artistic,
invitational, tensive, prophetic, and
poetic.
Speech which peels back
the layers of inanity and tedium
disclosing new hope, new vision, and
new possibility.1
I am left asking the how question.
For all his vision of the what
and the why of such speech,
Brueggemann is a little hazy on the
how.
1
Brueggemann (1989), 1-11.
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
He often speaks of the
importance of imagination, but
doesn’t explain what the imagination
brings to speech writing or how we
might engage it.
Which is annoying.
So for some years now I’ve been
wrestling with that question: how
can I use my imagination to create
spoken discourse which ignites the
heart? Which causes the listener
to lean in, which binds the hearers
together affectively in the nod
in recognition, the burst of wry
laughter, the courage to name hard
truths and work at the shared desire
to live a better life.
Speech which names the
presence of my CEO in the everyday
muddiness of life.
And lifts our vision to a better
future.
Speech which will go down well
at HQ. (Because it’s speech I am
answerable for).
Perhaps in their own ways your
jobs and mine have some striking
similarities?
How to do this?
Imagination.
In all, our fields.
Imagination matters for speech
writers.
But what do we mean by
imagination?
I want to walk through aspects
of my sermon preparation and talk
a little about what I see as the four
functions of imagination at work:
Sensory, intuitive, affective and
intellectual.
Maybe as I trace the steps of
my writing journey you can overlay
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
the steps of yours and see whether
anything in my approach might
agree with or inform yours.
The four functions of imagination
at work:
Sensory, intuitive, affective and
intellectual.
The sensory imagination:
I want people to see through their
ears.
Writing for the ear requires
the employment of multi-sensory
language, helping the hearer to
imaginatively see, hear, smell, touch,
and taste.
To this end I need language which
is pictorial, evocative, multi-layered.
To shape such language I need to
garner as much sensory experience
as I can.
As a preacher my sermon writing
process begins in the ancient text of
the Bible.
I try to read it with my sensory
imagination on high alert:
What would it mean to walk the
landscape of this world?
What would I see, taste, touch
smell, hear?
How do I get the two dimensional
printed word to stand up and wrap
me in its horizons?
I place myself in the scene
watching it unfold around me on the
cinema screen of my imagination.
I want the world of the ancient
text to live again.
If it lives for me, I can paint it in
words for the hearer to step in and
ponder.
So I head off on a field trip into
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
6
the pages of the bible, foraging for
sensory details; throwing them into
my knapsack for later consideration.
At some stage I will leave the
ancient world behind. And in my
mind’s eye, or in my real shoes,
wander through the malls of
contemporary culture.
What are the issues of the day?
What do I see in the headlines?
What’s the latest on the silver
screen?
What are the sensory hooks
which might speak into my sermon?
Are there obvious places where
the horizons of the ancient text and
the contemporary context fuse?
With my sensory imagination
I watch intently, listen carefully,
breathe in deeply and run my fingers
over the textures of the bits and
pieces I gather.
I will come home at some point
and empty out my knapsack. Sorting,
jotting and junking.
Stockpiling ideas for the creative
process.
The sensory imagination at work.
Now to the intuitive imagination.
Picture a pan on a low heat,
hear the pan lid knocking as the
contents simmer; flavours blending,
temperature rising,
What’s cooking?
The intuitive function is at work.
This can’t be hurried.
No rushing too fast to an end
point.
No allowing the ticking clock to
force the process.
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17 7

Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild

A good sermon cannot be written Incubated in the intuitive An example:

in one sitting; there needs to be
space and time.
So the ingredients are left on
the back burner as I attend to other
matters pressing in.
The pot will come to the boil in
time.
If I try and rush too quickly from
ideas to finished script the result is
always undercooked.
Half-baked. Indigestible.
imagination.
Sensory imagination, intuitive
imagination.
And so to the affective
imagination:
In 1994 I fell in love.
I fell in love with a handsome
man, a dapper man, a wise and
courageous man, a man who wore
tweed three-piece suits, a pocket
watch and horned rimmed glasses.
I recently gave a sermon on the
Valley of dry bones in the book of
Ezekiel.
The expanse of dry bones is a
symbol of the deathly experience of
the exile of Israel in Babylon.
I pondered…
How did it feel to be carted off
into a strange land?
To feel abandoned?

In this phase I sometimes play
with words on a page, letting ideas
rise up and fall away, like bubbles in
the pan.
Jotting phrases, minting
metaphors, pondering; turning ideas
over and over.
Letting odd phrases fuse
together.
Here I am open to the lyrical
voice, employing poetic insight and
craft, looking for language which will
disclose the more beyond what we
directly experience.
Trying to engender new seeing in
the hearers.
There is always that point when
I think it will never come to the boil,
and I might have to throw the whole
lot down the sink and start again.
And yet…
When I come to bring it all
together something happens:
Ideas fuse, words flow, metaphors
are forged.
The structure begins to emerge.
The address is coming to life.
Who was this dashing fellow? I found my imagination
overlaying the ancient exile
I speak of course of Gregory Peck. experience with images of round
ups, cattle trucks, death camps. And
As a young English teacher I came overlaying this with contemporary
across the gorgeous Gregory in the experiences of exile:
film version of To Kill a Mockingbird.
The people of Mosul.
(About 30 years too late – the film
was made in 1962). Refugees far from home.
One scene stays with me. Rootless wanderers denied the
identity of belonging.
Atticus the lawyer, played by
Gregory Peck, says to his daughter What is that like? How does this
Scout: feel?
‘You never really understand a I bring my affective imagination
person until you consider things from closer to home:
his point of view -’
What about those experiencing
‘- until you climb into his skin and other forms of exile.
walk around in it.’ 2
The exile of long-term
Without doubt, there is much unemployment?
to learn from the wisdom of Atticus
Finch. Or people robbed of the security
of the self by mental illness?
That ability to imaginatively place
ourselves in the shoes of another. Or the exile of sudden
unexpected loss?
This is the affective imagination
at work. How does the promise of hope
sound in such situations?
As a preacher I try to project
myself into the shoes of characters in What does that hope look like in
the biblical text as well as people in flesh?
my congregation.
2
Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird (London: Heinemann, 1960), 35.

W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K • INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17 8

Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild

To answer that we need to shift
perspective, to see as another.
To vicariously experience a
different world, empathy switched
on.
If words are to speak to people,
we need to spend time thinking and
seeing as others might.
Wrestling with question and
objection.
The affective imagination hard at
work.
Sensory imagination, intuitive
imagination, affective imagination
and now.
The fourth aspect of imagination I
want to address is the intellectual.
We must never polarise reason
and imagination.
Rather it is a resource which
reason can employ.
Imagine the scientist
hypothesising, shaping an
experiment; the imagination is at
work in this ‘if…then’ speculative
thinking.
Structuring a logical reasoned
argument means seeing the flow of
the discourse – identifying cracks in
the argument and taking remedial
action.
Which is again inherently
imaginative.
To argue well, means having the
ability to see where your opponent
will head and cut off their path.
Imaginative move.
Cicero saw the art of public
speechmaking being to teach,
delight and persuade.
Persuasion means helping
someone to see the anomalies in
their current position and move to a
new apprehension.
Taking someone on that journey
calls for an imaginative awareness
of where they are and of how they
might be moved.
Logic, hypothesis and
supposition, aspects of the art of
persuasion, belong in the toolbox of
the intellectual imagination.
So:
Sensory imagination – drawing in
from close observation.
Intuitive Imagination – letting the
random connections spark.
Affective Imagination – standing
in another’s shoes.
Intellectual Imagination –
hypothesising, supposing, shaping
reasoned argument.
‘Public speech: Igniting the heart
or extinguishing the will to live?’
Engage the imagination in all its
forms:
Sensory, Intuitive, Affective and
Intellectual - Hearts will ignite.
And there won’t be a corpse in
sight.

BERLIN SPEECHWRITERS & BUSINESS COMMUNICATORS

CONFERENCE 2015 22-23 October 2015 - Neue Mälzerei, Berlin, Germany

T he European
Speechwriter
Network autumn
3. Alexander von Reumont, Principles of Multicultural
Speechmaking
4. Alexei Kapterev, Visual Communication for
conference will be held at
Business
Neue Mälzerei in Berlin on
22 & 23 October 2015. At the main conference the speakers will include:
Our conferences offer Hans Kristian Amundsen, Norwegian Labour Party,
a unique way to understand the challenges of writing David Krikler, Aperture Communications, Marina Lacroix,
speeches by spending two days in the company of some McKinsey & Co, Suzanne Levy, Dutch Ministry of Education,
of the top speechwriters in the world. Science and Culture, Nicholas Wyke, EUROCONTROL, Brent
Kerrigan, Global Speechwriter, Jay Heinrichs and many
Pre-conference training will take place on the Thursday.
more to be announced.
Delegates can choose from four pre-conference training
workshops: The conference is for anyone wanting to improve their
ability to write and deliver speeches.
1. Jay Heinrichs, Heroic Speechwriting
For more information and to purchase a ticket, visit:
2. Martin Shovel & Martha Leyton, The Nuts & Bolts of
http://berlinspeechwriters.eventbrite.co.uk
Speechwriting

W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K • INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
DIGRESS TO IMPRESS
A speech by Hanneke Kulik from the
Dutch Ministry of Finance at the
10th Speechwriters and Business
Communicators Conference at
Westminster College, Cambridge 16
April 2015
B rian, I must say, you are a
clever guy. I was convinced
life couldn’t get any better at the
spring conference in Oxford last
year. And now it turns out it can.
I finally understand where your
vaguely amused smile came from
when I begged you to keep every
speechwriter’s conference from now
on in Oxford. I must admit, that was
after the discovery of the surprisingly
tasty wine in the oldest pub in Oxford
where we had gathered. Which may
have given my plea a somewhat
emotional edge. Anyway, that smile
of yours said: woman, have patience!
Just wait and see. And yes, I see it
now. Cambridge is also part of the
British speechwriters’ heaven. Thank
you for bringing us here.
Bringing us to the home of the
best scientists, the clearest dictionary
and the most dramatic spies in the
world. But for me Cambridge is
above anything else…: the home of
Katrina and the Waves!
Katrina Leskanich, Kimberley
Rew and Alex Cooper started the
band here in the eighties. Remember
Katrina? The happy rock chick with
big hair, huge shoulder pads, loads of
make-up and always a pair of all stars
at her feet. The sneakers on which
she was ‘walking on sunshine’.
I thought Katrina was incredibly
cool. Years later, in 1997, I met her
in Dublin, both a bit older and more
sophisticated.
She represented the United
Kingdom at the Eurovision Song
Contest with Love Shine a Light that
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
year. And I worked as a journalist
for a Dutch newspaper back then.
So, I had a great excuse to interview
Katrina. Of course you are aware
of the fact that the Eurovision
Song Contest is extremely serious
business. So my first question was:
What are you going to wear on The
Big Night? And she said: ‘Well, I’ve
brought a glittery outfit. The kind you
are supposed to wear. But I believe
I prefer the green blouse that I’m
wearing at the rehearsals all the time.
I bought it at Cambridge Market and
I have the distinct feeling that it is my
lucky blouse’.
And so it happened. She sang
the song, she shone the light, she
wore the blouse. You can check it
on YouTube. Every song contest fan
fell for her green eyes, the matching
color of her blouse and her sing-
along song. So, the United Kingdom
won the great European battle of
utter glitter in a simple green blouse
of Cambridge Market.
There is a rumour Katrina
sent the blouse to a collector
who’d begged her for a memorial
artifact. No, it wasn’t me! So the
blouse, still containing samples of
Katrina’s sweat, ended as the proud
centerpiece of an obscure song
contest collection.
I love stories like that. Don’t you?
Stories that put a smile on your
face. Stories that shine a light on
human nature. Stories that seem a
bit beside the breaking news. And in
my view these stories are a powerful
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
9
instrument for speechwriters. I use
them as often as possible.
Why? Firstly: the smiling. Let’s not
forget how important that is. Smiling
people look better, feel stronger
and live longer. So, every time that
you manage to put a smile on the
face of the audience, you make a
contribution to a better world.
It’s a comforting thought that not
only the Julian Glovers and the Cody
Keenans are in a position to write
speeches that change the planet.
Simply because they work for world
leaders. We all can do it by making
people smile. Yes we can!
Another argument for using
indirect stories is: they reveal
something about the person
involved. It is that behind-the-scenes-
feeling that works so well. Winston
Churchill’s cigars, the Obama family’s
dog and Katrina’s blouse: they all
make us feel that we know the star
involved a bit and that he or she is
just like us.
But there is third reason why I
would recommend using such stories
in a speech. When you are watching
the sky at night, and you try to focus
on one star in particular, astronomers
will tell you not to look directly into
the light of the star. First try to get
a grip on the halo around that star.
Your eyes will have time to adapt
and to focus. This way you will get a
much better view of what you want
to observe.
Indirect stories have a similar
effect. They offer the context that
people need, to understand the core
message and feel what is actually
going on. Where you are heading for.
Stories offer the brain a bit of time to
get in the mood and to focus on the
point you want to make.
So, side stories provide fun,
feelings and focus. Who would want
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
to resist them? Well… interesting
question.
I’m afraid quite a lot of policy
advisors do. I guess I’m not the only
one in this room who needs to deal
with a certain amount of opposition
to agreeable language, to persuasive
arguments and to clear metaphors
quite frequently. For a speechwriter
that’s business as usual. Negotiating
on a speech with the policy advisors
is not always like walking on
sunshine. Only too often it is like
walking through a minefield.
There is an explanation for this.
A Dutch scientist, Marc van
Oostendorp, studied the written
language of the public service and
large, international companies
thoroughly. He found out that there
is a direct link between extremely
vague language and situations
in which consensus is key. Quite
often the parties involved are most
satisfied with the vagueness of the
language. Clear language is futile as
long as many parties all want a piece
of the cake.
So, what can you do besides
feeling thwarted and becoming
a grumpy old speechwriter? I do
what most speechwriters do in such
a situation: we claim the opening
and the conclusion and let our
counterparts believe that the stories
we put there are nothing more but
chitchat and small talk. But we know
better than that, don’t we? Of course
Dr. Freud already has taught us long
ago, there isn’t such a thing as small
talk.
So for a speech in Japan I
introduced the founder of Keio
University in Tokyo who learned
to speak Dutch in the nineteenth
century, since the Dutch were the
main trade partners of Japan. He had
been looking forward very much
to an actual conversation with the
Dutch. So by the time he was ready,
he ran to the harbour… Only to learn
that the Dutch were gone and the
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
English had taken over. And so he
had to start all over again.
And for a speech in the south
of the Netherlands I used the story
of the first local girl that more
than hundred years ago received
a technical education and became
the first Dutch female engineer. Had
she lived today, she would have had
great difficulty finding a job because
of severe youth unemployment
To be followed by the more
abstract, you could also say, the more
boring part of the speech.
Yet recently a speechwriter friend
remarked that little is lost if the
audience is less concentrated in the
middle of the speech.
As long as you wake them
up in time to hear your fabulous
conclusion. How about that
encouraging piece of wisdom?
And I’m afraid I need to wake
you up now. I’ve made my point,
but I have one more story to share
with you. A story about human
courage, about language and about
storytelling itself.
This is the story of Heinz
Feigenbaum. I met him at a dinner
party in The Hague on a beautiful
spring evening in 1997. Yes, also the
year of Katrina. It turned out 1997
was a great year for collecting stories.
Heinz was the father of Ruth, a friend
of mine. My children called him
grandpa Heinz soon, and although
he had nothing to do with the
ketchup, I must say his tomato soup
was like nothing else. But the best
thing about Heinz was his ability of
telling stories. Not sweet and cuddly
ones. Heinz was an Auschwitz-
survivor. And unlike so many others,
he liked to speak about it. Because
he wanted to tell as many people as
possible what it had been like in that
Nazi extermination camp.
I was standing in the blossoming
garden of Ruth, when Heinz
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
10
introduced himself to me asking:
Sprechen Sie Deutsch? I was a bit
flabbergasted, and stammered:
jawohl, ein bischen aber, if you want
me to actually understand what you
are saying please, let’s continue in
Dutch.
So he did. And he simply said: ‘I
was in Auschwitz in World War II’. I
already knew he was born in Vienna
and escaped with his Jewish family
to the Netherlands in the darkening
years before the war. Through the
Dutch camp Westerbork he ended
up in Auschwitz. Heinz told me
that he and his friends decided in
that horrible place, never to speak
German again, which was his mother
tongue. But for them German
had become the language of the
murderers of their families. So they
spoke Dutch and English when they
met in the barracks at night.
Finally the Russians liberated
Auschwitz in January 1945. By that
time there was not much left of Heinz
except his extraordinarily strong
spirit. He told me that the Red Cross
placed him in a private sanitarium in
Switzerland where he could regain
some of his strength. He would need
that before he could start his quest
for surviving family members. It
turned out later there were not many
left to look for. But in Switzerland he
regained something that would give
him the strength and the wisdom to
go on and fight the doom that the
Nazi’s had cast on him.
One morning the lady of the
house came to him and said: ‘I
noticed in our conversations that you
are a literate man. As it happens we
have a wonderful library here, so I
will give you the key. Feel free to go
there and pick any book you like.’
And so Heinz did.
At that point I realized that he
hadn’t only suffered physically, but
intellectually as well. Imagine what
it’s like, years without reading… So,
for the first time in many years Heinz
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
went to meet his old friends: books.
It must have been a thrilling moment
for him. He opened the door of the
library and there they were. The
loves of his life. Buddenbrooks, Der
Zauberberg, Der Tod in Venedig. The
books of Thomas Mann.
‘And at that moment,’ Heinz said,
,,I knew I wanted to speak German
again. Because I realised German
was not only the language of Hitler.
WRITE WHERE YOU MEET
Jim Reische, Vice President, Communications, Grinnell College
W here do you do your best
speechwriting? In your
office with phones bleeping and
colleagues dropping by? At home
amidst a riot of restless kids and
barking beagles? Why not just lug
a laptop to your next Metallica
concert?
Maybe you’re better at filtering
out the clangour of the modern
workplace than I am. But the
pursuit of silence recently drove
me to discover a new approach to
speechwriting: place-based writing.
As I told my colleagues at the
recent (and terrific) PSA Leadership
Communication Days for college and
university speechwriters, ‘I like going
places and writing stuff.’ So I went
places: specifically, to the sites where
my principal was scheduled to speak.
And I wrote stuff: to wit, his speeches.
It worked. I got the peace and
quiet I needed. But I also found
something more: my speeches got
better, because the rooms helped me
write them.
The move was propelled less by
inspiration than desperation. As the
vice president of a national liberal
arts college I’m pulled in a thousand
directions every day. Crisis after
crisis, initiative upon initiative: to sit
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
It was the language of Thomas Mann
as well.’
This may not be the main story of
the Second World War. But for Heinz
Feigenbaum it was. And for me it
offered the context, the halo around
the star, that helped me to really feel
what it must have been like. Being
there and trying to find a way back.
It was beautifully written language
that helped Heinz to embrace his
down at my desk is to submit to an
onslaught of demands for time and
attention.
So I sought refuge. Realising
that college presidents often speak
in rooms that are largely otherwise
unused, I figured I’d hide out and
write. The first site I tried was the
campus chapel, which is reliably
vacant at most schools most of the
time. Sitting there on a stern wooden
bench, hurting for inspiration (and a
cushion), I remembered the plaque
in the rear of the room honoring the
11 Grinnell students killed fighting
for the Union Army. They constituted
almost our entire student body at
the time: the loss of so many male
students prompted the college to
admit women long before it might
have done otherwise. Suddenly I had
half of a pretty good speech—and
the better half, at that.
Inspired, I started making place-
based writing a habit. If I couldn’t get
to a location in advance I’d at least
arrive early on the day of, for a little
rewriting in situ.
Plenty of speechwriting
handbooks (Bob Lehrman’s Political
Speechwriter’s Companion, for one)
urge speechwriters to think about
venue. We disregard the subtleties
of setting at our (and our speaker’s)
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
11
mother tongue once more and some
of the enchantments of his youth.
So, my dear friends, writing
down good stories is not a small
matter. It can do good in many, often
unexpected ways. It is the love for
language that binds us. So, in the
spirit of Katrina; let that love shine a
light, in every corner of the world.
Thank you.
peril. But I’ve now seen the benefit
of going a step further. Drafting
or revising a speech on location
sharpens my mental image of the
occasion: suddenly I’m in tune with
everything from acoustics and
atmospherics to crowd flow and
the all-important intangibles. Will
the founders’ portraits look down
admiringly on a litany of historical
highlights? Could the view through
the floor-to-ceiling windows invite
a visionary tour d’horizon? The
possibilities are as varied as the
places.
I don’t think the idea amounts to
a flash of brilliance. It was more of a
happy stumble over something that
in hindsight was patently obvious.
Experienced writers recognize that a
successful speech requires the right
words, spoken by the right person,
in the right place, at the right time,
to the right audience. Place is an
important factor in the equation:
writing in a place helps me write for
that place.
We’ve all encountered rooms
that electrified rote turns of phrase,
and others that smothered the most
fiery calls to action. The connection
between speaker and space is a form
of partnership. So why not work with
your partner … and get it to work for
you?
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
YOUR ELECTRONIC SPEECHWRITING COACH: HOW TO USE WORD
READABILITY STATISTICS by William Cohen
G ood presentation of
manuscripts is a vital part of
being a speechwriter. An immaculate
manuscript deters meddlers. You
want to persuade your speaker that
to make a change to your text is like
pulling a brick out of a delicate Jenga
tower. The whole performance could
be put in jeopardy.
A few spelling mistakes and
grammatical errors have the opposite
effect. The speaker gets above
himself and starts telling you how to
do your job.
So when you’ve finished drafting
your masterpiece, it helps to have a
rest for ten minutes. And then go to
‘Tools’ in Word (assuming you use
Microsoft Word) and click on the
‘Spelling & Grammar’ option. You can
go through your document rather
laboriously checking for spelling
mistakes. It usually involves pressing
‘ignore’ about 50 times.
At the end of the process you will
be told the ’Spelling and Grammar
check is now complete’. At which
point you click ‘ok’. It will then throw
up some ‘readability statistics’.
Here things get interesting. I went
through this process with a speech
by Vítor Constâncio, Vice-President
of the European Central Bank. The
speech was titled, Strengthening
Macroprudential Policy in Europe. I
chose it because the ECB is known
for being a bit loquacious - (though
things are improving!). Here are the
readability statistics:
Counts -
• Words 3476
• Characters 18836
• Paragraphs 42
• Sentences 150
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
Averages -
• Sentences per Paragraph 4.7
• Words per Sentence 23
• Characters per Word 5.3
Readability -
• Passive sentences 21%
• Flesch Reading Ease 32.1
• Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level 12.0
It’s contentious to establish fixed
laws of speechwriting, but surely
readability is a vital quality, because a
speech will be read aloud in front of
an audience.
When I’m doing speechwriting
training, I get sent scripts with
familiar faults. It’s hard to point out
to people who’ve got in the habit of
writing speeches in a certain way,
that their sentences are three times
longer than they need to be. Or,
when a certain bureaucratic turn
of phrase has taken root, that they
have far too many passive sentences.
It’s useful to introduce them to the
readability statistics and get them to
think about it for themselves.
The problem is producing
something in the house style of a film
script looks terrifyingly thin. But film
scripts are designed to be read and
immediately understood.
If you take the last speech in The
Shawshank Redemption, you have no
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
12
passive sentences, an average of 3.2
words per sentence, an 85.2 reading
ease and a 2.3 Flesch Kincaid Grade
level.
If you want to write a good
speech, I would suggest that if
the average number of words per
sentence is over 20, you’ve got a
problem. Likewise if your number of
passive sentences is over 20%.
The advantage of running your
speech through this process is that
you get a statistical picture of how
you’ve constructed your speech. I’ll
explain what the statistics mean and
you can make your own mind up
whether you’re on the right track.
The Flesch Reading Ease uses
the word, paragraph and character
statistics to calculate how easy
your content is to read on a scale
of 0-100. The lower the result, the
more complex your piece is to
read. The closer you get to 100 the
more perfect the readability of your
text. Mr Constâncio’s score of 32.1
would suggest that his words had a
soporific quality. A short perusal of
his text confirms that.
The Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level
takes the numbers and turns them
into a hypothetical American school
grade level. In other words, it tells
you how many years of education
someone needs to understand your
writing. If you’re not familiar with
the American grade system, simply
add five onto the grade number and
you’ll get the average age instead.
The Speechwriter August 2015 | Volume 17
Newsletter of The UK Speechwriters’ Guild
INTERVIEW WITH MATTHEW SELLS
Speechwriter for the Confederation of British Industry
What is a typical audience for a
CBI event?
First and foremost UK business
leaders from companies of all
sectors and sizes, but also a whole
range of other groups – students,
educationalists and civil servants to
name but a few.
How many speeches do you
write each week on average at the
CBI?
I know it’s a cliché, but there’s
neither a typical week nor a typical
speech here! It’s a bit quieter at the
moment, being summer – but it can
be up to three a week.
Is there much scope to include
jokes?
Yes – although it really depends
on the speaker and whether or not it
suits the event.
How did you end up writing
speeches in Brussels?
At the end of my first day working
in Brussels as an intern for a small
NGO, the Executive Director asked if
I could write her a speech to give to
some human rights activists the next
day. As I’d rented a hotel room, which
only had one plug in the bathroom, I
wrote the speech that evening with
the laptop balanced on the toilet
(which wasn’t easy). She gave the
speech, but only about six people
W W W. U K S P E E C H W R I T E R S G U I L D . C O . U K
came to hear it! Soon after, I was
lucky enough to get a traineeship at
the European Commission where I
specialized in speechwriting.
You studied French and German.
Are you still managing to keep your
languages up to a good standard?
I just got back from two weeks in
France and I was in Dusseldorf a few
weeks back, so I try to keep them
ticking over. Luckily I don’t have to
write speeches in French or German
any more – although I do respect
anyone who writes speeches which
aren’t in their native tongue. I very
nearly became a translator and I
actually think that translating from
one language to another is pretty
good practice for translating from
policy language into something
people can hopefully relate to and
remember.
What were the highlights of
working as a speechwriter for the
Local Government Association?
It was a real crash-course in
British politics – local and national.
Working there during the Scottish
Referendum was particularly
interesting, as was working for a
membership organisation for the
first time. I also helped to prepare
speeches to be given in some of
the UK’s bigger conference venues
– like Manchester Central and
Bournemouth ICC, which was a good
learning experience.
Who is your favourite speaker?
That’s a difficult one. I think that
Bobby Kennedy’s speech directly
after the death of Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr (entirely improvised and
delivered from the back of a flatbed
truck) is incredibly moving and
shows the power of a specific speech
at a specific moment. In terms of
language, I think that Lloyd George
• INFO@UKSPEECHWRITERSGUILD.CO.UK
13
spoke in a way that brought abstract
images to life, even in the ‘pre sound-
bite era’ – just take his phrase little
five-foot-five nations to describe small
countries, for example.
Do you get to see your speeches
delivered?
I don’t really see them as ‘my’
speeches – as the drive and direction
comes from the speaker and
organization, but I do try to see as
many as possible. A speech is a ‘lived’
experience and it’s always interesting
to see if it can hold people’s attention
and how they react to certain parts.
What font do you use for your
scripts?
Whatever the speaker wants! But
Arial 14 double-spaced is usually a
good starting point.
What’s your favourite business
book?
I like Evan Davis’ book Made in
Britain because it’s clear in its writing,
optimistic in its tone and has reams
of examples of things that we do
well as a country. I try to read pretty
widely though – not just business
books.
Do you ever give speeches
yourself?
Rarely. I think the last ‘proper’
speech I gave was at my friend’s
wedding in Texas. Half of the guests
had come over from the UK and half
were from Texas, so it was a challenge
to keep them both referenced and
entertained. But I think ‘personal’
speeches are a bit of a different kettle
of fish anyway!
The Speechwriter is edited by Brian
Jenner
europa|studio
TM
Design by