"I dunno, I think the definition of "good speaker" really depends on the audience."
I agree with most of your post. But I'd actually invert that relationship. A good speaker is someone who understands his audience, so that he can maximize both his connection to it and his impact upon it.
The intent of speaking, and the intent of writing, aren't altogether different. In either case, a typical goal is to convey information to an audience, and to maximize the audience's uptake of that information. Uptake naturally follows from conveyance, and successful conveyence depends upon successful connection (or "breakthrough"). So, it stands to reason, knowing one's audience is a necessary precondition to engaging one's audience. Some audiences are tougher to engage than others. And what necessarily breaks through for Audience A may fly right over the heads of Audience B, or piss off Audience C, or strike Audience D as a joke.
This distinction is important to make, because too many people write or speak primarily for themselves. They assume a hypothetical audience of likeminded people, and they blame the audience when their words don't hit their marks. This mindset is so prevalent that the exclamation "Tough crowd!" has become something of a cliche. It's true that some crowds are "tougher" than others, but the failure to engage a particular crowd usually lies mainly with the speaker or writer. (Even when it doesn't, it's best to assume it does; assumption of failure provides a useful lesson, whereas blame deferral offers no room for growth).
Understanding the audience, as you suggest, is not, in my experience, what makes for a good speaker.
I've spoken in front of audiences - large and small - more times than I can remember. Some of my talks tanked. Badly.
Most go really, really well. And the difference between the tankers and the good ones is one thing - a belief in what I'm saying.
It can (and often has been) an openly hostile audience (I've had people unexpectedly sit in just because I was "the guy from Microsoft", and that presented them with a rare opportunity to heckle). And most times I win those over as easily as the ones that are open to what I have to say to begin with.
And it's quite simply that when you believe in your message, when you just know you're right/your approach is right/your message has integrity, that you appear authentic.
And authenticity is very compelling, as a speaker.
What you're saying and what I'm saying are not mutually exclusive. Authenticity should always be a goal. Belief in one's own words, likewise, is a solid precondition to success. All of these things are factors in success, as is knowing the audience. It's possible to make a successful speech without achieving any or all of these factors, but achieving them makes success much more likely. It makes the delivery of the speech less of a dice roll.
I didn't mean to suggest a reductionism in favor of one factor over all others; I was simply replying to a statement in the grandparent comment about the relationship between audience and speaker. (Also, I'm not suggesting that one should pander to his audience).
Or perhaps - a good speaker picks a good audience.
You can adapt your style to an audience - dumb down technical details to focus on the "big picture" capabilities and limitations, or get down to the nitty-gritty. But if you are talking to a crowd that just doesn't care about any of it, you've lost the minute you walk into the room.
I agree with most of your post. But I'd actually invert that relationship. A good speaker is someone who understands his audience, so that he can maximize both his connection to it and his impact upon it.
The intent of speaking, and the intent of writing, aren't altogether different. In either case, a typical goal is to convey information to an audience, and to maximize the audience's uptake of that information. Uptake naturally follows from conveyance, and successful conveyence depends upon successful connection (or "breakthrough"). So, it stands to reason, knowing one's audience is a necessary precondition to engaging one's audience. Some audiences are tougher to engage than others. And what necessarily breaks through for Audience A may fly right over the heads of Audience B, or piss off Audience C, or strike Audience D as a joke.
This distinction is important to make, because too many people write or speak primarily for themselves. They assume a hypothetical audience of likeminded people, and they blame the audience when their words don't hit their marks. This mindset is so prevalent that the exclamation "Tough crowd!" has become something of a cliche. It's true that some crowds are "tougher" than others, but the failure to engage a particular crowd usually lies mainly with the speaker or writer. (Even when it doesn't, it's best to assume it does; assumption of failure provides a useful lesson, whereas blame deferral offers no room for growth).