Solicitor General Donald Verrilli picked the wrong day to get the jitters last month. Fighting to keep The Affordable Health Care Act intact in front of the U.S. Supreme Court, he hesitated, he stuttered, he coughed, he gulped ice water – he didn't make a strong impression. The New Yorker's legal writer Jeffrey Toobin summed up the reactions of many observers when he told Politico: "I was just shocked."
Will Verrilli's stumble mean curtains for the President's health care plan? Perhaps not, but it didn't help.
It's a story that's older than dirt, as they say up inMaine. Just about all of us -- even high-powered public figures -- get nervous in high-pressure public speaking situations.
I once had a client -- a bona fide K Street superwoman -- who routinely turned into a quivering tower of Jell-Oevery time she had to stand and speak in front of an audience. We're talking about a brilliant executive who ran a large industry association, made a seven-figure income, and traveled from Capitol Hill to Europe and Asia and back to advocate on behalf of her member companies.
The first time we worked together to get her ready for a major keynote speech, we went through our typical process of creating the content for her presentation: brainstorming the raw material, distilling it into a narrative, and designing visuals that would seize her audience's attention and help them remember what she wanted from them.
The process went well. And then it came time for on-camera practice in our studio.
"I have to tell you something," she said. "I get extremely nervous when I have to speak in public."
I told her that was normal -- it just means you're a human being with a pulse. It happens to everyone.
She said "No, I mean it's a lot worse than that."
I told her how impressive she was in every respect, and asked her how she thought she got this way.
"That's easy," she said. "Fifth grade. Piano recital."
When she was 10 years old, she was about to sit her pinafore-clad self down at the keyboard when she saw her mother looking very tense in the first row. And then, as she lifted her hands to begin playing, she heard her mother let out a small gasp. To this day, she's not sure why that happened -- maybe Mom thought her daughter was about to play the wrong piece or maybe she thought she had left the oven on back at the house -- but whatever the reason, it traumatized my client.
And so when it came time for her to give the keynote we had worked on, I flew with her all the way down to the New Orleans Convention Center -- and quite literally held her hand in the wings until it was time for her to take the stage. I did the same thing for every one of her presentations we worked on together after that. On every occasion, she was petrified beforehand, but calmed down and performed well after about the first two minutes.