The Message That’s Never Heard
We’re watching a fascinating experiment play out in real time between a powerful speaker with a massive megaphone, and that same speaker actively preventing audiences from hearing the message. Media assigned to report on the American presidential administration has been blocked by that very administration from sharing the president’s words with a large swath of constituents.
The headline: Trump’s event has no sound after he pulled press credentials from multiple news stations. A popular philosophical riddle comes to mind: When a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
This is not about politics. It’s what happens when one side of a conversation deliberately blocks out the other for fear of misalignment or disagreement. We see the same lesson in executive keynotes, product proposals, and team meetings when a speaker’s content ignores or discounts the audience for their talk. If that speaker’s scripts and slides fail or refuse to earn a listener’s investment, does anyone actually hear what’s being said?
Leadership shares the microphone
What’s happening between the White House and certain press outlets demonstrates the risk when leaders become myopically or egotistically convinced their story is the only one that counts. They stop listening to the people whose job it is to ask the uncomfortable questions, challenge the narrative, or simply tell them what’s really happening outside the room. Think C-suites and employees, companies and customers, professors and students.
Public speakers practice a corporate version of this confusing self-defeat every day. They give the keynote, lead the meeting, and pitch the client with the story they believe in, and little care for potential opposition. Leaders can get so caught up in what they want to talk about that they forget there are actual humans in the room with stories of their own. Including stories that don’t perfectly line up with that leader’s vision.
Our workers have needs. Our partners have perspectives. When the point of our talk is to simply state our position, with no interest in alternate views, the message goes unheard.
But the most valuable thing an audience can tell us is often the very thing we haven’t considered or may not want to hear. True leadership isn't just owning the microphone; it’s making sure we listen to the room as we’re speaking into it.
The confidence to stay inclusive
It can be challenging to keep lines of communication wide open. It takes strong confidence to remain inclusive of other opinions as we deliver a presentation or lead a team meeting. Yes, we have specific things to say, but also a mandate to say them in ways that assure the room remains actively engaged and participating in the outcome.
Inclusion or exclusion in how we share our message becomes a choice between digging our heels in, saying only what we want to say, and staying open to backlash or disagreement. At the moment, the president has chosen option one, making it clear he prefers to include those who approve of the story he’s telling and exclude anyone else. It’s less about leading a conversation than controlling a costly monologue. A familiar trap many powerful people fall into.
They get the big stage, tell the team where the brand is going, why they’re going there, and how excited everyone should be about it. Meanwhile, the employee or client is thinking, “Do I get a say in any of this?” or “I know, I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last six months.” Even worse, “It sounds like your way or the highway.” The speaker wants to fell a big tree, but only for those close enough to get excited about it. The rest are kept away, and the impact goes unnoticed.
Bottom Line
Anyone can stand in the spotlight with a perfectly crafted keynote, tell the story we came to tell, and be so focused on asserting our beliefs that we accidentally lock out the very people we’re trying to convince. The best speech is never the one where the executive gets buy-in on every word; it’s the one where the customer, partner, and employee know they have a voice in the conversation.
When our content grows too self-serving and self-important, it becomes one-sided. The audience hears noise, but can’t actually hear what’s being said. Just another powerful figure on a homemade pedestal, shouting into the wind. Like a falling tree no one is around to witness, care about, or remember.
