Over a decade ago I had a very uncomfortable moment at the start of a training I was leading for a client.
I had already led a couple of very successful trainings on impactful presentations for other departments there, so when they asked me if I could do “something similar” for their more senior leaders in preparation for a board meeting, I said sure.
I’d never done board-specific training but I thought, “The principles still apply. How different can it be?”
I asked a few questions and made some adjustments to my program accordingly.
When the time came, one of the first topics was about staying connected to the audience and not using the slides as a crutch. That's when one person interrupted with:
“But we don't use slides.”
I paused and stared blankly at her.
“You don't use slides?” I finally asked, surprised. “How do you share the information?”
“We use (platform X),” she explained. “All of the documents are converted to one 200-page PDF and everyone reads their own copy of it on their iPads during the meeting.”
“So you just project the PDFs on the screen up front where the presenter is standing?” I clarified.
“There’s no screen and the presenter doesn't stand. They just talk from wherever they're seated.” This was going downhill fast.
At that point, I realized there were two big assumptions that had not been recognized previously:
- I assumed that their board meeting format was “something similar” to the other meetings for which I had previously trained their teams, or they would have told me, and
- They assumed I would know that the format of their board meetings was NOT similar and in what ways.
In hindsight, there was plenty of “coulda-woulda-shoulda” on both sides, arguably, but at the moment it was moot. There was only one option now: PIVOT.
I asked them to walk me through the stages of the meetings, being much more specific and nuanced with my questions, to unearth as many other relevant issues as possible.
Once I had a better handle on the details, I mentally revised my game plan, skipped a bunch of content, retained what mattered, ad-libbed other components, and salvaged the event to the client's satisfaction.
Two smart, well-intentioned parties. One shared blind spot. And a room full of senior leaders watching to see how the “presence” coach would handle being blindsided.
What is executive presence really built on?
That day came to mind when I read a recent Fast Company article by Soojin Kwon, who teaches executive presence at the University of Michigan’s Ross School of Business. Kwon argues that when leaders struggle with presence, the trouble usually begins before they speak. She points to three skills:
- understanding what your audience needs,
- structuring your message to drive a decision, and
- preparing for questions and pushback.
I couldn’t agree more. My delivery wasn’t the problem that day. My content was built for a room that didn’t exist.
That’s lesson one: know your audience (and their needs) before you walk in.
But no preparation eliminates every surprise.
Lesson two: read the room well enough to recognize when you’ve missed the mark, then pivot so your content fits what your audience actually needs.
Let’s break those down further.
Lesson 1: Know your audience before you walk in
You can say the wrong thing beautifully and still lose the room. Presence starts with one shift, from “What do I want to say?” to “What does this room need from me?”
That’s the proactive half of presence. Before your next high-stakes meeting, ask (yourself or others):
- Why do they want me to present on this topic?
- What does this audience care about: their goals, their pressures, what they’re measured on?
- What decision, risk, or tradeoff do they need to weigh?
- What do they already know, and what are they missing?
- How does this room actually operate? What is the participation dynamic?
- What’s the one thing they need to walk away with?
And beware “something similar.” That’s where assumptions hide.
Lesson 2: Read the room, recognize the miss, and pivot
Reading the room is the reactive half of executive presence.
It means catching the signals that your content isn’t landing, like an interruption, a puzzled look, or a question you didn’t anticipate.
Then you rebuild on the spot: ask sharper questions, keep what still serves the audience, cut what doesn’t, and fill the gaps.
In that moment, I could have whined, “How was I supposed to know you use (Platform X)?! You’ve seen my standard training; you didn’t think to tell me that in advance?” Conceptually justified? Sure. But it wouldn’t have won me any bingo points.
Kwon makes a parallel point about staying composed during boardroom Q&A. Whether the surprise is a tough question or a wrong assumption, the room reads your reaction before it weighs your answer.
The room was watching to see whether the person teaching executive presence could actually model it. Grace under fire and composure in all three channels mattered as much as any content I’d prepared:
- Verbal (your words): Acknowledge, don’t defend. Be intentional, and tell the room how you’re adjusting, so they know you’re adapting for them.
- Vocal (how you sound): Keep your pace slow and even, and your pitch steady and in your lower register. Your tone should signal curiosity and contemplation, not panic or irritation.
- Visual (how you show up): No eye-rolls, frantic shuffling of notes, scratching your head or beard, or jamming your hands in your pockets. Instead, stay open and grounded. Breathe, nod as you receive information and pause thoughtfully before you speak.
In a pivot, that composure shows people you can be trusted when things go sideways. That’s exactly what boards and rooms of decision makers look for.
Ready to build presence that holds up under pressure?
Executive presence isn’t a personality you’re born with. It’s a set of trainable skills: knowing your audience, reading the room, and staying composed in all three channels when you need to pivot.
That’s what we build in 1:1 executive coaching and team trainings.
If you get feedback along the lines of “work on your presence” but don’t know what to do about it, let’s get specific together.
The leaders who command the room aren’t the ones who perform the hardest. They’re the ones who did the homework, and who can pivot gracefully when the homework turns out to be wrong.
FAQ: Frequently asked questions about executive presence
What is executive presence?
Executive presence is how others perceive your credibility, confidence, and judgment as a leader. It isn’t just polished delivery. It’s built on knowing your audience, shaping your message around their needs, and staying composed in all three channels of communication (Verbal, Vocal, and Visual), especially when things don’t go as planned.
How do I get to know my audience before a high-stakes presentation?
Ask why they want you to speak, what they care about and are measured on, what decision they need to make, and what they already know. Find out how the meeting actually runs and what’s the one thing they need to walk away with. Be especially careful when a request sounds familiar. That’s where assumptions hide.
What should I do if I realize mid-presentation that I’ve misjudged my audience?
Acknowledge it without getting defensive, then ask sharper questions to find out what they really need. Keep what still serves them, cut what doesn’t, and fill the gaps. Throughout, stay composed: breathe, nod, pause before you speak, and keep your voice steady.
Why isn’t “work on your delivery” always the right advice for executive presence?
Delivery is the most visible part of presence, so it gets blamed first. But a polished delivery can’t rescue a message built for the wrong room. Often the real gap is not knowing the audience well enough beforehand, or not adapting once you realize you’ve missed the mark.
Can executive presence be learned?
Yes. Executive presence isn’t a personality trait you’re born with. It’s a set of trainable skills: knowing your audience, reading the room, and staying composed in your words, voice, and body language when you need to pivot. That’s the focus of executive coaching.
