Public speaking is, and always will be, a detour on the road to peace. From the moment you get the dreaded notice that you’ll have to get up on stage and speak, to the point you mumble out your final “thank you” to a bored audience, the entire charade is stress-inducing, chaotic, and laborious. And why wouldn’t it be? We’re not exactly trained in communication or oratory in school, and neither are we given proper instruction in the art of writing — all skills that would serve us well when we inevitably find ourselves standing before an audience.

You wouldn’t be alone in dreading it. Most studies suggest that the number one fear worldwide is speaking in public. Even one of the greatest American writers of all time, Mark Twain, said: “There are two kinds of speakers: those who are nervous and those who are liars.”

But it doesn’t have to be this way. When approached right, public speaking is a form of art — a creative, rhetorical battleground. A well-delivered speech is something both an audience can appreciate and a speaker can enjoy delivering.

I haven’t spoken to the point where I can call myself a professional, but I’ve delivered a diverse catalogue of speeches and enjoyed myself thoroughly in the process. I’ve debated freedom and politics, introduced dignitaries, emceed events. I’ve also wished a puzzled audience a hearty good morning when it was, in fact, 9:00 PM, mixed up introductory comments, and much more. I’ve triumphed and utterly bombed. But no matter what, I learned something new every time.

What follows are my tips, tricks, and frameworks for the wonderful yet underappreciated art of public speaking.

Before We Begin: On Calming the Nerves

Here’s something everyone should know: no one is ever one hundred percent confident before a speech. Nerves get the best of us, and they always will. The risk of a major mess-up on stage is constantly high, and the potential for embarrassment is enormous. You could stutter, forget your lines, or freeze entirely.

But after years of delivering speeches and helping people do so, I can guarantee one thing. The most nerve-wracking stretch of time is right before you speak your first words. I’d like to introduce a term for this: ignition anxiety.

Ignition Anxiety (noun) — The acute psychological tension experienced in the moments immediately before a high-stakes verbal performance. In other words, the storm before the speech.

Overcoming this temporal wall is half the battle. When you start strong, you automatically feel a surge of confidence, and the rest is usually smooth sailing. Here’s how to climb that wall.

Tactic 1: Memorize your first line cold. This is your ultimate cringe containment system. Have your opening line etched in bulletproof memory. Even if you’re holding notes, know your first line. It builds the momentum required to continue.

Tactic 2: Simulation. Grab a few friends, family members, or willing strangers. Practice your entire speech in front of them — not just the words, but the walk up to the stage, the pause, all of it. When you rehearse before real people, you get a general feel for the anxiety that may seize you on stage and practice overcoming it. The more you do it, the easier ignition anxiety becomes.

Tactic 3: The Dictator. You are no longer you. You are now the mighty Supreme Overlord Baron von Thunderfist IV. Commander of seventeen legions. God among mortals. Before your speech, get into character. Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Chin up. Let the machismo of a supreme leader consume your every action — then walk on stage, relax, and address the crowd as if they were your loyal subjects.

At its foundation, this is just a spin-off of “fake it till you make it.” It sounds ridiculous. It absolutely works.

Alongside these, employ the vanilla advice as well: deep breaths, feet planted firmly, visualize success. Bravery feels like fear. Overcoming ignition anxiety is a skill, and like all skills, you can improve at it.

1. Rather Be Dead Than Boring

The ultimate sin in public speaking is being boring. If you are boring, you lose the audience’s attention immediately. You’ve likely lost their respect as well.

The first ten seconds of your speech are the most important. If you don’t grab attention in that window, you’ve probably lost it for the rest of the talk.

There are plenty of ways to avoid this. My favourite: don’t begin with “Good morning.” Don’t open with a regular, run-of-the-mill line if you can help it. Begin with a quote. Start with a story. Shock them with an interesting fact. Use a prop if you can.

Anything beats a boring “Good afternoon, everyone, my name is whatever and I’m here to talk about whatever.” Audiences have heard that a thousand times. That sequence of words triggers a primal, evolutionary response — honed over generations of enduring dull speeches — that causes the brain’s attention centres to shut down near instantly.

If you absolutely must open with a pleasantry, immediately follow up with something interesting. Tell the audience what they’ll learn by the end.

“Good afternoon. My name is Jane Doe, and by the end of this speech, you’ll learn how I stole state secrets using nothing more than a toothpick and an 8GB USB drive.”

Jesus Christ, Jane. Tell me more.

Seize attention within the first ten seconds. Now let’s talk about keeping it.

2. Keep and Maintain Tempo

A strong opening followed by a mediocre rest of the speech is a major letdown. Your address should hold the room minute after minute. I call this quality stability.

Stability (noun) — An inherent quality of a talk that reflects how consistently engaging, interesting, and easy to follow it remains throughout.

Measuring stability is easy: look at the audience. Monotony is never good. Overwhelming complexity has no place in good speechwriting. Audiences can’t rewind speeches.

A. Avoid dry statistics.

Numbers on their own are boring. They’re difficult to imagine. Tell me which is better:

Unless you’re speaking to physicists, the first sentence should almost always be avoided in isolation. Generate visuals in the audience’s head, and the weight of what you’re saying lands properly.

B. Structure is more important than you think.

State clearly what you’re going to talk about. Use transitions: “To begin…”, “Let’s now discuss…”, “To reiterate…”, “To conclude…”. These are checkpoints. They tell the audience when a new topic is incoming, and signal to anyone who’s drifted that now is a good time to get back on track.

C. Vary tone and pace.

Pauses for effect indicate something big coming. A sudden drop in volume makes listeners lean in. A deliberate slowdown makes the next words feel heavier. Holding silence after a big statement — not just before — lets the gravity sink in. These tools are useful not just on stage but in regular conversation. Public speaking, at its core, is storytelling.

Ask yourself: Would I sit through this if someone else delivered it?

3. Nail the Landing

Many speeches start strong and end weak. We have no tolerance for that here.

Don’t mumble a meek “thank you” and drag your feet off the stage. Finish with flair, because people don’t remember entire speeches — they remember the ending. It needs to burn itself into memory.

A. Summarize. Echo your core message. Reiterate the main points. Give the audience a moment to synthesize everything they just heard.

B. Invoke awe. End with an inspiring or thought-provoking quote. Finish with a story. Make a joke if the situation calls for it. Leave the audience thoughtful, laughing, melancholy, or riled up. Just don’t make them feel nothing.

End with confidence. The crescendo has arrived, and it’s your duty to finish powerfully.

4. Leave with Something They’ll Carry Out the Door

In 1963, at the top of the marble steps of the Lincoln Memorial, with the great statue of Abraham Lincoln watching silently behind him, Martin Luther King Jr. — 34 years old, wearing a black suit and the weight of centuries on his shoulders — spoke his now legendary words: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

Arguably one of the most important speeches of the 20th century. A call to believe in a country that hadn’t yet lived up to its ideals — but still could.

This is what speeches do. They take air and turn it into thunder. When words shake the firmament of civilization, a lonely voice turns trembling hands into clenched fists.

A speech delivered about study hacks in a school auditorium and a speech delivered to change the fate of nations differ in scale, but at their core, both are acts of hope: a voice reaching out into the ether, believing that words can make things better.

Ask yourself: Why am I giving this speech? What do I want the audience to feel, think, or do differently by the end?

When you deliver a speech, you are consuming the limited and fleeting time of an audience — time that neither you nor they will get back. Make sure it’s well spent.

A good speech can change your life. A great speech can change the lives of others.

Conclusion

At the end of the day, public speaking is less about perfection and more about intention. You don’t need a silver tongue or a brilliant vocabulary. You just need to mean what you say, say it clearly, and say it like it matters.

A speech is a moment of borrowed time. You’re eating into people’s lives, their thoughts, their dinner plans. The least you can do is make it worth their while. Don’t waste it being boring. Don’t waste it being safe.

People don’t come to hear you. They come to hear what you have to say.

Give your energy. Give your honesty. Give your best — and give it generously.