How Not to Conduct a Remote Program

Ed Barks

Jun 27

The webinar sounded worthwhile, so I was looking forward to increasing my knowledge about a topic that is integral to my expertise.

What a letdown. I took next to no notes and left with no new ideas of import. The one reward I did receive? Fodder for this article.

I will note up front that I am not disclosing the sponsor or the topic so as not to offend anyone or sully their organization's reputation.

Run the Trains on Time

I don't know how many times I've said this but will reiterate here: Never punish those who arrive on time. Whether you are organizing an in person or a remote event, wasting your audience's time is rude. The organizers were still hashing out some technical issues when they allowed everyone in to the webinar. All of this backstage preparation should take place behind the curtain. Ascertain that panelists' audio and video are in tip top shape before letting the crowd through the doors, be they physical or online.

Then there was the panelist who joined one minute — one minute! — before the start time only to encounter technical problems. Panelists, begin testing your system a good half-hour before the show commences. You'll save yourself and your audience some grief. Her tardy arrival meant that she missed the first few minutes. The irony to all this is that, later in the program, she advised people to show up early when involved in remote events. So much for taking her own advice.

Dress for Success

Things seemed to get off to a fine start once they finally did start. Proceedings were turned over to the moderator, who appeared wearing a suit and tie. Yes, even in a remote program, it is necessary to show respect for your audience. Your wardrobe speaks volumes. His was perfect.

That image was shattered, however, when the first panelist popped on wearing a ratty sweatshirt over a Snoopy t-shirt. Plus, she looked like she just rolled out of bed judging by her messy hair. I had to muster all my resistance to refrain from entering a note in the chat box asking if this is how she shows up for work in her office. Her credibility score? Zero.

The next panelist offered some different lessons. She beamed in with a blinding glare due to a window directly behind her. Also, her camera was positioned too low, giving everyone a great view of her ceiling. The lesson here is to pay attention to your visual background. It's a good opportunity to reinforce your bona fides by placing books, photos, awards, and so forth behind you. I always make it a point to look at the "shot" ahead of time as part of the preparation phase.

Respect the Audience During Q&A

The question and answer period brought more tedium. Long pauses were the rule when questions were posed to the panel. Admittedly, this can be difficult during a remote broadcast since the eye contact cues that exist in an in person setting are lost. How to adjust? Two recommendations. First, the moderator can direct questions to a specific individual for the first bite at the apple. Second, emphasize that they should be ready to chime in when sorting out matters during the advance preparation stage. Given all the snafus here, I suspect they never took the time to schedule a pre-meeting.

Part of the job of a moderator is to manage questions from the audience. Unfortunately, our discussion leader never identified those who submitted queries, making it seem as though all of them came from his brain. That's bad form. Why not take the opportunity to give audience members a hat tip?

At times, questions from the peanut gallery do need to be adjusted for length, to knock out coarse language, or to clarify potential confusion. However, it is again bad form to totally ignore the thrust of an idea. In this instance, I submitted a question that he reframed completely, losing much of the meaning and context. After a question touched on the same subject tangentially, I noticed in the Q&A box that my question had been answered. Imagine my surprise — and disappointment.

Speak with Clarity

The program was plagued by occasional background noise. The solution is simple. Mute your microphone when not speaking. This squashes any distracting disturbances in the background. The person running the tech for a remote program needs to monitor this and mute those who don't get it and who are not speaking at the moment (and, of course, be alert to opening their microphones when they want to contribute).

Weasel words also surfaced. In one response, a panelist began sentences with "I think" four times. Another did it five times. Using that phrase is a great way to undermine your legitimacy. You're the expert. Don't "think". State your case emphatically and omit language that saps your reputation.

Earlier I mentioned the panelist who arrived late. She never did overcome the technical problems, so she dialed in on a cell phone. Please, don't ever do that. I can guarantee that your voice will break up on occasion, causing listeners to struggle to understand your message. Moreover, if your smiling face fails to appear on the screen, you will be easily overshadowed by fellow speakers.

When the session ended (mercifully), the moderator never offered panelists the opportunity to summarize with closing remarks. For that matter, he never solicited opening remarks either. Make those passages concise and make them powerful. But do allow for an organized opening and conclusion.

Use this advice to make your next remote presentation run more smoothly so you can avoid the traps that hounded this program.