You didn't want to start from here.

"Our house is right in front of it.  You'll see a big tree. Go to the end of the road and turn left."

It's nonsense, but not complete nonsense.  If you reverse the order of the three sentences, you'll find it makes complete sense.

The words are identical, the instructions are the same.  But instead of giving directions from the end point, now you're giving them from the start point.  Much better.

Scarcely rocket science, you may be thinking. Pretty obvious that's the only logical way to give directions.

And so it is. But if it's so obvious and logical, why don't people use the same approach when explaining other topics, so they don't lose the audience?

Topics like, say, how our new technology will change the world. Or what next year's market looks like. Or why staff need to work harder for less pay.

Here's why.  Because on the surface, these topics don't look as simple to explain as how to get from A to B.

Assumptions.  Giving directions, you know exactly where the audience is now.  With other explanations, you have to make assumptions about audience knowledge.  That can be difficult, especially where the audience is diverse.  How much do they already know about the new technology? Will I patronize half the audience and leave the rest behind?

Structure. Giving directions, there is a ready-made structure for the explanation.  In fact, there's only one way of doing it: a sequence of instructions in a specific order.  But there are myriad ways of explaining other things. What's the best way to structure my presentation about next year's market?

Common ground. Giving directions, there is perfect accord about the end point of the explanation: getting to your house.  It's non-controversial. You have a shared purpose and a common goal: they want to get to your house and you're going to tell them how.  But what if there is a perceived conflict of interest between you and your audience?  Or between one part of it and another?  My plan for staff to work harder for less pay may appeal to investors.  But in the lamp-light of that extra midnight oil I'm asking staff to burn, it's going to look a bit dim.

Topics like these don't seem simple to explain, but you can make them so, if you choose.

Never assume

'Assume' makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.  (Doncha love it?)

Don't assume audience knowledge about the topic.  Much safer to assume zero knowledge. Work out the lowest common denominator of knowledge in your audience and plan from there.  To avoid patronizing those who think they do have knowledge, preface your explanation with the magic words 'as you know'.

"As you know, cloud technology is now one of the top three determiners of competitive advantage"

If they knew, they're not offended by your telling them, because you've acknowledged they knew.  And if they didn't know, they do now.

By the way, as well as zero knowledge, much safer also to assume zero interest.  Command interest with a dramatic opening.

"You're probably very happy with the technology you're using at the moment and if you want an easy life, that's fine.  If on the other hand you still want to be in business tomorrow, you're going to have to throw it all out.  Let me explain..."

Structure everything from the audience view-point

Explain the topic from the audience viewpoint, not your own, as you do when giving directions.

So instead of...

"Let's begin with some key features of next year's market..."

Try...

"Let's begin with where the market is today and then look at where it's going next year..."

Find common ground

If there are differences and conflicts, search for the common ground to bring people together.  Build a boat and then put everyone into it.  A bit like Noah.

So instead of...

"There's no easy way to put this, I'm afraid.  You're all going to have to work harder for less pay."

Try...

"I know we all love this business.  I know we're all worried about whether it will pull through these difficult times.  All of us have worked really hard and we've all felt the strain of the past few months.  So what I'm going to ask of you is not asked lightly...."

Or even...

"I have today cut management salaries by 10 per cent until further notice -  including my own - and I will personally be working every weekend until we get through this difficult period.  In return, what I'm going to ask of you..."

Hmmm...

Whatever you do, you won't go far wrong if you plan the explanation as a journey from one point to another and make sure everyone follows you every step of the way.

Why it's wonderful no-one cares about you.

Fear of addressing an audience is one of those enduring things like death, taxes and the UK's unpreparedness for weather.  It passes from generation to generation like a malicious gene.

And indeed there are many good reasons to be fearful.  I have identified 10, ranging from fear of being judged ('Doesn't know what he's talking about') to fear of letting the side down ('Thanks to you, we lost the pitch') to fear of people seeing that huge pimple on your nose ('Doesn't she have a mirror?')

When you feel fear, positive thinking is of no use to you.  There's little comfort in mantras like 'I am a powerful and totally amazing individual' when your tongue has become bonded to the roof of your mouth and your brain has shut up shop and gone fishing.  Denying the reality of what you so evidently feel is pointless. It just makes you more confused.

What to do about it?  PG Wodehouse advised nervous speakers to imagine the audience sitting there in their underpants. I have to say it has never worked for me: too much to think about already without that.  And does he mean M&S, or are we talking Rigby & Peller?

If it's the shakes you've got, that's because of excess adrenalin coursing through your body.  So you can dissipate the adrenalin by physical exertion. Finding somewhere private and running on the spot often does the trick.  But you can't do that when you're already on stage.

I used to get very nervous before presentations until one day I woke up with a wonderful realisation: a eureka moment that came with a surge of relief.  It was this: who the hell cares about me?

For years I had been slave to the preposterous notion that my audience were actually interested in me. And therefore interested in how I performed.  Whereas in point of fact they weren't.  They, not I, were at the centre of their individual universes.  All they were interested in, quite properly, was themselves: their own hopes, fears, problems and pimples.

So because they didn't care about me, I didn't need to care about me.  And that left me free to care about them, which is a lot easier.

Not convinced? Think about what goes through your mind when you're on the receiving end of a presentation.  I'll bet your thoughts and feelings are more focused on yourself than on the speaker.

Hope I get something out of this.  Hope it's not a waste of time.  Hope it helps with my problem.  Hope it's worth the effort of listening.  And so on.

If you like this little nugget gleaned from nights of insomnia, then next time you feel the fear before a presentation, stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about the people in front of you.  They're the ones that matter, not you.

Where do I begin? Try the middle.

Your name is Melvyn/Melvynetta Parrott.  You're a health and safety consultant.  And you're about to do a presentation to a bunch of people who don't give a damn.  They're fiddling with their smartphones as you stand up to speak.

How do you start?

Some say you should begin by introducing yourself, saying what you’re there to speak about, how long you’re going to speak, what you’re going to cover, the order in which you’ll cover it, and so on.  Here’s an example.  Read it in your best nerdy voice:

"Good morning.  My name is Parrott and I am delighted to be here with you today.  My topic 'Health & Safety in the Workplace' is one of significant importance as I hope to demonstrate to you.  I have restricted myself to one hour, which will allow plenty of time for the many questions I'm sure you will have.  I have divided my presentation into just 17 parts.  First I will consider why health and safety is important. Then I will give instances of..." and so on.

Well, it's safe.  And methodical.  So it shows the speaker is...safe and methodical.  But as an opener, it's not especially electrifying.  How about this, instead?

“Last year, 500 people died at work.  Of these 149 were electrocuted, 81 were burned, 153 were mangled in machinery, 57 fell off buildings and 60 died from stress-related disease.”

Or this?

"You'll notice that my left arm has been amputated.  It happened in an industrial accident 10 years ago.  That's why I became a health and safety consultant and that's why I'm here today."

Now get back into role and read that last opener again in a nerdy voice.  Still much more engaging, eh?

So the moral is: find the drama at the heart of your topic and begin there.  Time for introductions later.