This is a pretty specific niche, but it’s one that I’ve worked a lot over the last couple of years and I figure I might as well share what I've learned and see if I can get ideas for solutions to the problems I still face.
As a public programs manager and off-and-on graduate student, I’ve had to figure out how to balance my respect for the needs of senior scholar speakers with a lot to say (and ocassionally large egos at stake), with the always-diverse needs of a public audience. (As long as you have more than two people in the audience, they will probably have more than one reason for being there.) I was fortunate when I began working as a programs manager in that I had a mentor, my supervisor and former fourth grade teacher, Jon N., who offered me good advice, but my sense that most of us generally don’t receive much guidance in this, either as speakers or facilitators.
One thing that Jon told me was that the presenter was not there as my colleague or superior, or even as a scholar, but as someone that I had paid to do a job: to educate the audience, and so I should keep the needs of that audience foremost in mind and not be shy about giving appropriate direction. This was a big shift in thinking for me, accustomed as I was to academic settings that give a great deal of leeway and respect to “esteemed-experts-in-their-field.” Another way of thinking of it is that you are not doing your colleague a favor by facilitating a structure that will result in a poor learning environment or bad evaluations. Yet another perspective is that while you would probably never intervene in a colleague’s teaching in his or her own classroom, when he or she comes to your classroom (or public audience that you've assembled with your publicity and outreach), it’s different; you can’t expect them to know the needs of your students and it’s up to you to communicate that.
Furthermore, in most programs, the attendees themselves have a lot to add to the discussion, and if they are themselves academics or teachers, they will be jumping out of their seats to hold forth. If your greatest concern (as I’d argue it should be) is to explore your topic fully and democratically, you want to give time for their voices as well as that of the presenter.
In short, value the expertise of your presenter, but don’t underestimate the contributions of your audience, and make sure you have time for both.
With all that said (and I almost think I’d be dragging myself off stage at this point), here are my suggestions for the actual practice of wrangling academic talent:
1. Tell the presenter before they start when they should end. Not how long they have, because this is easy to forget (“when did I start?” is a fair question for anyone in the middle of things). My additional pedagogical advice is: Do not give any presenter more than 50 minutes to lecture. Tell them clearly in the invitation to speak, “You’ll have 50 minutes to lecture, and 10 minutes [or whatever] for Q&A” I really believe this. No one can listen for more than that and most presenters will go a bit over, no matter what you do. Some speakers will have an interactive model for their time, in which case it’s a little different – but you should still check their timeline and help them adhere to it and make sure they do have a reasonable pedagogical model. (For some presenters, they will think it’s “interactive” to include in their lecture a series of “Anyone? Anyone?” questions, e.g., “does anyone know what day of the week Lewis and Clark reached Fort Clatsop?”) Also, some talent will have an interactive model in their head, but then get carried away with how much they have to say and just lose track of the time. It’s very easy to do, and someone doesn't have to be a self-centered bombast to do it.
I should add that for public intellectuals for whom you’ve paid $3,000 or more, this may not apply. Maybe an audience would be happy to listent to Hillary Clinton or whoever for 3 hours straight -- but not, I think, without some drinks in front of them. To be honest, I haven’t had that much experience with that caliber of speaker, but my heart and what I know of pedagogy tells me that no human can listen productively for more than, well, 40 minutes I think is what the studies say, but we academics ignore that and say 60 minutes at the most.
2. Tell your presenter how you will give him/her a 10 minute warning. I use the “ten fingers = ten minutes” model: that is, holding up both hands with all fingers splayed. If you are a hard ass in a seminar or workshop setting, you could have the agenda for the day written in big letters on the board behind them, where you (and the audience) can see it. This helps also if you have a deadly speaker. If your participants have faith that you will keep good time, they know that the end is drawing near. (This approach reminds me a bit of my friend Kathy’s anecdote about how the local TV station in the small Midwestern town where she lived had a feature called, “The World in a Minute,” in which they broadcast the day’s international news in exactly 60 seconds, all the while a big clock ticked off the seconds in the corner so the audience knew the pain would end soon.)
3. When it’s time, give a ten minute warning from the back of the room where the audience won’t notice so much. You don’t want to disengage them. Give him/her the 10 minute warning with exactly 10 minutes remaining – not 8 or 12. That part may just be superstition but I also think it is also good practice to keep a literal time table so that your presenter, if they are paying attention to the time, has faith that you are really keeping time.
4. After 10 minutes have passed, begin what I call the sidling process (Jon N. may have used the term first). First, stand up. Then, slowly approach the podium. This is the point at which you CAN allow them to go over 50 minutes, using your discretion. If the talk is going great and the audience seems engaged (nodding, taking notes, letting out huzzahs and hosannas), given them a full hour and sidle slowly. But not more than that! For pity’s sake, never more than that. Even the most dedicated member of the “I Heart Lectures Club” will be tired by then, even if they don’t want to admit it.
Most presenters will notice you when you being your predatory approach and begin talking faster or make some nervous joke about it. Some presenters will stop short, either out of resentment, passive-aggression, or an honest deer-in-the-headlights reaction when they realize how much they didn’t cover, but this is where you have to remind yourself that the audience’s needs are foremost if your purpose is public engagement with the topic you all care passionately about, not professional development or ego-building for the presenter.
Anyway, if your presenter doesn’t eventually shut up (again with the discretion), wait until you are right beside them and he/she takes a breath of some kind and then say,
5. Say, “I’m so sorry to have to cut this short, but I want to be sure that we have plenty of time for questions and answers because I know the folks here in our audience have a lot to say.” My feeling on this part is, you don’t want to tell people exactly how long for Q &A in case there aren’t really that many questions.
6. Retreat off stage or to the side, but remain standing at the side during the Q & A. Nod a lot to show your engagement with the awesome discussion that is taking place, unless there are really weird off-base questions in which case you can look quizzical – maybe tilt your head and put your hand to your chin. “Hmmm.”
If your presenter gets a question that is flat-out hostile or insane, I’m actually not sure what to do because I (luckily) haven’t had to deal with it. Portland’s neighborhood association probably has a lot more to add in this area in their community leader program, and I’ll bet there’s other literature on this topic out there, as well.
What I’ve seen Portland City staff do at community meetings with continual hecklers is say, “I think it’s time we hear from someone else,” and then, if it’s really out of control, ask the audience, “should we move on?” and let the audience show their displeasure at having the agenda taken over by some nut case. If the majority of the audience is nuts, you should just run for the hills – i.e., cut q & a short by saying, “thank you so much for these questions [more applause] and to our presenter.”
Another alternative I can imagine, if you have one hostile questioner but a mostly sympathetic audience might be, “I’m not sure that’s an appropriate question for Dr. So and So.” Odds are, if you have a controversial speaker and the talk is open to the general public, the presenter will know how to handle it. But ultimately the responsibility for providing a civil context is up to you and if it gets rude, it’s up to you to cut it off and protect your talent and the normal members of your audience. But like I said, I haven’t had to deal with this so much. I’d be interested in what other people have to say on this topic.
End of scary digression. When the questions start slowing down or it gets beyond 15 minutes or so for a public audience (maybe longer for a classroom of adult learners), sidle up again and say, “We have time for one last question.” (This is the most frustrating part for everyone who has a question remaining but the happiest part for those who are bored or need to pee but are too polite to show it.)
7. After that last question, and the probably lengthy response which brings in every last point the presenter every hoped to cover, walk over to right beside the talent and say with great feeling, “WOW! thank you SO much” (everyone applauds because you start while saying thank you), “I feel like we could go on for hours, and I encourage you all to continue this conversation less formally during the reception/break/book signing/small group discussion.” -- whatever format will be available.
8. If the presenter has previously agreed to share his/her email address or other contact information, remind the participants of this and give them the email address, which you or he/she can put on the white board or whatever.
Everyone takes a break except for the gung-ho who surround the presenter and pepper him or her with questions. I generally let this go on for awhile until it’s slowed down and then walk up to them and say, “thank you so much; that went over really well; I can’t wait to work with you again.” But if there is a reception or book signing next on the agenda, I wait until the majority of the audience has moved to the next area and then intervene by getting the presenter from the podium to the reception or book signing by saying, “these are really great questions and I’ll bet other people would love to hear this – can I get you guys to continue your conversation over here?” (I usually add a joke about being annoying or whatever.) Incidentally, this is the hardest part for me to play wrangler because this is often when really interesting and personal connections between the audience and the presenter will emerge. People who are uncomfortable talking about how their grandmother experienced/suffered through such-and-such will use this time to do so, and the presenter often seems to make good and productive connections, as well. I don’t play the hard ass in cutting this short when it’s clear that kind of connection is taking place. On the other hand, if there are small groups or a book signing to attend to, you can’t expect your presenter to cut that kind of thing short, so encourage the exchange of email addresses or other contact information if it seems appropriate.
Incidentally, one of the things I do if I have the same group for a week or so is to set myself up as the “friendly bad guy.” For instance, in groups within which I’ve established some trust and professional credibility, I’ve told them how I was appointed the “timekeeper dominatrix” at a wedding in San Francisco (this sounds a lot more exciting than it was, . Overall, I want to stay on good terms with the audience, but if someone has to be the bad guy, it should be me and not the presenter, who will (if he or she is good) want to show his or her willingness to give and engage, but they still need to engage everyone else and sell books and you still need to keep time for the overall program.
After the Event
Give them their check. If possible, have it available when they speak.
Write them a thank you note. I like to use positive comments from the audience in these whenever possible. Here’s an example:
“Dear Esteemed Expert:
I am writing to express our appreciation here at Public Agency for the talk you gave as part of our “Extremely Important Topic ” lecture series. The audience at Quaint Location responded with great enthusiasm to your lecture of Date.
We thought you might appreciate some of the feedback and information we received from the program evaluations. Approximately 65% of the 60 attendees returned evaluations from the program at the Quaint Location. The response to your presentation was overwhelmingly positive. The average scores given on a scale of 1-9 was 8.6 for enjoyment of the program and 8.3 for increased knowledge of history. Written comments included:
“Wonderfully knowledgeable speaker! I look forward to his further works and efforts!”
“Very informative. Great speaker. Good sources of information.”
“Excellent coverage of an aspect of Important Topic that gets very little emphasis. A refreshing ‘conversation’”
“I really enjoyed the lecture thoroughly. Not only was Engaging Expert an excellent lecturer on Important Topic, he had an incredible sense of humor!”
“The lecture was to the point and relevant to the topic (not boring!)”
“Time slipped by too fast!”
As a Program Manager [Project Director, or whatever your title is], I was impressed by your prompt response to our requests for information before the talk that allowed us to do good publicity for the event. I was also struck by your generosity in answering audience questions during your lecture and at the reception, both in terms of the time you spent and the respect you showed to audience members. It is a wonderful thing to find an expert in his field who enjoys engaging the wide variety of perspectives that come from the general public. When it happens, it fulfills the best promise of public programs. Thank you again."
That bit of fluffery is based on an extra charming, intelligent presenter who fielded some very off-base questions. For presenters who give a lackluster talk and only answer two questions, I don’t say all this – I just say, “thank you.” But in this case I wanted to show how much I appreciated his talk on a feel-good level, and went beyond because you never know what will help your presenter. If you’ve got big bucks for a big name speaker, he or she may not need detailed praise on a professional basis, but he or she still probably has a strokable ego, and in other cases it may help your presenter with his or her tenure portfolio or in gaining future speaking gigs. You’ll be encouraging speakers to do this kind of thing again if you give them what they need beyond the honorarium, and you’ll also be letting them know what you found valuable (e.g., publicity materials).
Whether or not to include negative comments is something I’ve pondered without conclusion. How to help academics and intellctuals who don’t really know how to communicate their good ideas well is a challenging question and something I’d like to hear from others on. It doesn’t help someone professionally to merely not invite them back again. But on the other hand, it can be very hard to say to someone, “your Power Point was dullsville, dude.” If there are good models for helping academics breach that gap, and actually learn from their engagement with the public, I’d love to hear about them.
One suggestion I have to my friends who are academics is that if you are an invited speaker at a public setting, you could ask to see the complete evaluations. Not everyone does program evaluations, but we always do, and I'd be more than happy to share the results with somone who requested them -- even (and maybe even particularly) the folks who got bad evaluations.
