In this Age of Distraction, we’ve got seconds to win our audience’s attention—or lose it. When we’re unclear, rambling, blathering or long-winded, the audience bolts for their phones. If we’re not concise and clear, there’s zero chance of being persuasive, because no one is listening. That’s why structure and delivery matter more than ever.

We often dive too deep into our subject and forget the audience hasn’t followed the same path. That’s where the trouble starts. We confuse them, and they mentally check out. We need to set the topic clearly and grab their attention fast. The opening must be dynamite—wake them up, spark interest, and demand attention.

Then we break the content into five-minute chunks. Each block needs a switch—a story, visual, quote, or killer question—to re-engage. Every point we make must come with proof: data, examples, evidence. Don’t just say it—back it up. Data needs stories and stories need data.

The structure must flow logically. Choose a formula—chronological, thematic, problem-solution-result—and stick to it. Use verbal bridges between sections to guide the audience. “We’ve looked at X, now let’s move to Y.” Without these guideposts, listeners can get lost and mentally leave you.

Timing is our best friend. Rehearsing with a stopwatch forces us to refine our message. We learn to trim fat, sharpen our language, and focus only on what matters. That’s how we avoid running over and skipping key points. We all hate the presenter who rushes through thirty slides in two minutes because they have lost control of the time.

We end powerfully—with two closes. One before the Q&A to hammer home our message, and a final close that leaves them with a resonant takeaway. If we want to be persuasive, we must be sharp, structured, and intentional.

Let’s drop the fluff, build flow, and craft messages people actually remember and can act on

The distance between wanting to buy and actually buying is often vast. Business leaders all have goals, but constraints around money, people, and bandwidth hold them back. The higher up we go, the more strategic the thinking. The CEO is concerned with the future. The CFO focuses on cash this quarter. Line managers just want to hit their numbers and hold on to their team. HR? In Japan, they’re often passive—gatekeepers and internal rule police, not champions of change.

If a buyer feels their current situation and their desired future aren’t too far apart, urgency disappears. No pressure on them so no decision. And doing nothing is always the easiest option. It’s not just about money—it’s also about fear. A purchase can trigger more work, risk, or reveal gaps in capacity. In sales, we need to draw attention to the cost of inaction.

But it doesn’t work if we just tell them. We’re salespeople. They’ll doubt our motives. From their side, they have to tell usthe gap is real—and unacceptable to them. That’s why we ask smart, reflective questions. “What happens if you can’t get there fast enough?” We bring speed into focus because nobody gets there as fast as they want. “What happens if you can’t clear that obstacle?” That’s where we come in with our solution lineup. We speed things up and make success smoother.

We also bring it to the personal level. “If this fails, what does it mean for your team?” Buyers in Japan often avoid talking about personal risk, so we need to connect it to group outcomes.

Our goal isn’t to push—it’s to guide them to the realization that they need help to bridge the gap. Once they see that, they’re open. Now we’re not just selling—they’re buying. The shift is subtle, but it changes everything. Ask the right questions, and the urgency to act starts to belong to them.

Stupid people in organizations aren’t always easy to spot. They can appear confident, energetic, and articulate in interviews, fooling even the most seasoned managers. But over time, their lack of insight and poor judgment start surfacing. These individuals often speak before they think, overwhelming those around them with bluster and assertiveness instead of substance. Their loudness masks a lack of critical thinking, and in brainstorming sessions, they dominate through sheer brute volume rather than value. This becomes toxic when the time comes to sift, weigh and refine ideas. They insist on pushing their opinions forward, not because they are better, but because they are louder. Smart, reflective, deep thinker team members get drowned out. This is where you need a neutral facilitator who can help ensure all voices are heard.

A more insidious version of stupid is the person who seems smart. They’re articulate, appear capable, and are often trusted. But they lack analytical depth. They don’t seize opportunities, fail to offer key insights, or leave critical value failure unnoted. Clients eventually notice what was missing. They realize too late they didn’t receive full value. “Why didn’t you tell me that?” becomes the damning question.

This damages brand credibility, kills trust, and alienates clients. These brand assassins persist because of poor leadership—bosses too busy, too trusting, or too unaware to course-correct. In some cases, the boss is also underqualified. Add a weak internal system for developing analytical and decision-making skills, and mediocrity becomes embedded.

Worst of all, stupid people rarely know they’re the problem. That factor is a big one and it makes them especially dangerous. And unfortunately, you may already be working with one. Or worse—reporting to one.