This week, two very different public speaking moments stood out to me — one ceremonial, one political — each offering rich lessons in leadership, communication, and the subtle but powerful art of delivery.
The first was a marriage blessing for a dear friend. It was a joyful, multigenerational gathering, filled with music, poetry, and love. What struck me most wasn’t just the atmosphere, but the language and tone used in the blessing. The officiant didn’t lean into casual, everyday speech — instead, they chose poetic, elevated, symbolic language, delivered with a rhythm and solemnity that made the whole experience feel larger than life. It could have tipped into theatrical, but it didn’t. It held, and it worked. It reminded us that ceremony matters — and sometimes, language that lifts us out of the ordinary has a powerful role to play.
It got me thinking about the Church of England’s push for accessibility, and how well-intentioned it is. We’ve moved toward more familiar, informal language in an effort to include more people — and that’s not wrong. But perhaps we’ve lost something too: a sense of awe, of stillness, of sacred space. People today are searching for mindfulness, presence, and spiritual connection — and I wonder whether language that touches something ancient or mysterious still has an important part to play.
Now contrast that with the second example: Keir Starmer’s interview on the Today programme. He’s competent, values-led, clearly intelligent — and yet his communication still doesn’t land with the passion or clarity that wins hearts. I can hear that he’s been working on his voice — more resonance, more solidity — but the delivery still lacks urgency, variation, and spark. In a media landscape where Nigel Farage’s punchy, direct, emotive delivery cuts through, Starmer’s careful tone doesn’t always carry.
This isn’t about substance versus style. It’s about recognising that delivery matters. Farage, for all his lack of detailed policy, comes across as relatable, confident, and sure of his message. That feeling is what people respond to. Charisma, rhythm, clarity — it’s visceral. And when used well, it can galvanise and unite.
The lesson? Context matters. Language and delivery must match the occasion. Elevated, symbolic language worked beautifully at a wedding because it created a shared experience of depth and celebration. In politics, it’s about energy, clarity, trust — not just information but persuasion.
As a voice and presentation coach, this is what I help people with every day. It’s not about being someone you’re not. It’s about finding the right version of yourself — one that can meet the room, the moment, and the message. Sometimes that’s the poetic you. Sometimes it’s the straightforward, fire-in-your-belly you. But it’s always about being present, and being heard.
So here are some questions I often ask clients to reflect on:
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What does this room need from me?
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What do I want my audience to feel?
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What do I want them to do?
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What atmosphere or energy will serve this moment best?
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Where have I felt that energy in myself before – and how can I channel it now?
And my final tip: film yourself. Watch it back. Are you saying the words — or are you delivering the message?
