We all know the signs.

The leader who can’t seem to think except through slides.

The team that measures progress in deck length.

The meeting that dies by bullet point.

But what if (gasp) you’re part of the problem?

Give yourself some grace.

DeckPendency isn’t a character flaw. It’s a corporate reflex. The habits we were once taught to prepare make us terribly ineffective at communicating ideas.

But before we can break free, we have to spot the signs.

Below are eight truths designed to diagnose your team’s DeckPendency, and some small ways to start the recovery.

1. Do you equate slides with substance?

You’ve built decks so robust you’ve started to believe they’re your strategy. Every new project or idea starts with “let’s stand up a deck.”

You start with a template first, and add your content as you go.

And when a meeting ends, you measure success by how far you got through the deck.

If that sounds familiar, you might be mistaking volume for value.

Try this instead:

Before opening software, write one clear outcome:

“After this conversation, I want my audience to ______.” (think, feel, or do something differently than today).

If you can’t fill in the blank, you’re still working through your objective and you’re not ready to present.

2. Do you feel uneasy without slide software?

When the stakes rise, your hand drifts to the mouse. You double-click the orange “P” like gripping a security blanket.

You tell yourself you’re preparing, but what you’re really doing is soothing.

Decks trigger dopamine: every click, every animation, every tweak to alignment gives a micro-hit of control. It’s chemical reassurance, disguised as productivity.

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Block 20 minutes to sketch your message with zero software.

• What: Name your idea.

• So What: Describe how your audience benefits from your idea.

• Now What: Outline what you expect your audience to do as a result of hearing your idea.

Say it all aloud at least once before powering on your device.

3. Have you mistaken a tool for culture?

You teach new hires to “design a deck,” not to “build an argument.”

Slide polish earns more praise than clear thinking.

Somewhere along the way, aesthetics overtook outcomes.

If this rings true, you may be part of a system that values process over persuasion.

Try this instead:

Separate the event from the artifact.

Use presentations to build belief. Send one-page memos or emails for proof or reassurance.

Recognize some moments are for building belief, some for recording and reporting decisions.

4. Do you hide behind the screen?

Your deck is gorgeous. But your audience is… Gone?

Half the room is online shopping by the time you click to slide three. You can feel it, but you keep reading off the screen anyway.

You call it “getting through the slides.” They call it “survival.”

The problem isn’t attention spans. It’s competition for attention between your spoken words and your wall of text.

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Limit yourself to one image or one chart per idea.

If a slide says what you plan to say, delete it.

Be present with your audience, not buried in your presentation.

5. Do you mistake deck polish for readiness?

Twenty hours of work. Beautiful transitions. Perfectly formatted headers.

But still, no one’s convinced.

That’s because slides have an uncanny ability to look finished even when the thinking isn’t.

Have we built a culture where thoroughness is aesthetic, not intellectual?

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Flip your prep time. Spend 80% clarifying and rehearsing; 20% refining slides.

When you rehearse, ask your listener two questions:

“What do you remember?” and “What would you do?”

6. Do you rely on slides to manage nerves?

That pounding heart, those sweaty palms… It’s adrenaline.

Your ancient lizard brain thinks you’re being hunted. The deck feels like armor.

But it isn’t. It’s a mirror, reflecting your anxiety back at the audience.

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Start with an anecdote instead of stats.

Story reduces adrenaline faster than deep breaths ever will.

Your calm reassures your audience.

7. Have you forgotten that story is our native tongue?

Long before memos, meetings, or metrics, humans had stories.

They synced brainwaves, built trust, and turned strangers into tribes.

Slides can’t do that chemical work. Stories can.

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Frame your message as a simple story arc:

Setting. Problem. Stakes. Insight. Approach. Decision.

Facts reinforce. Story builds beliefs.

8. Do you expect your deck to travel on its own?

You share the file, hit “send,” and feel a rush of completion.

But decks don’t move. They shrivel up and die in folders on servers.

Well-told, relatable stories can survive for generations.

If that sounds familiar, try this:

Give your idea a name and a line people can quote.

End with an image they’ll remember and a step they can repeat.

Stories scale. Slides don’t.

The Self-Check

If you recognized yourself in more than three of these truths… Congratulations! You’re human.

If you recognized your entire team, it’s time for an intervention.

The cure for DeckPendency isn’t better slides. It’s better storytelling.

Because the goal of a presentation isn’t to show people your work. It’s to make them believe in it.

Start the Recovery

Before your next meeting, try this detox:

1. Write your goal in one sentence.

2. Tell one story that illustrates it.

3. Choose one visual that helps people see it.

4. Cut everything else.

5. Practice eye contact and delivery.

6. Cut more slides.

Did this hit a nerve?

Good. That means you’re awake to the problem.

If you see the signs of DeckPendency in your team, don’t panic. Just start taking small steps to overcome it.

Campfire Method® workshops help leaders replace slides with stories and meetings with moments that matter.

Let’s build one for your team: https://gatherround.us/schedule-a-presentation-workshop/

🔥 Hi, I’m Eric, and every week, I share insights, observations and tools so you can ditch decks and light a fire in your high-stakes presentations. If you like what you see here, follow me on LinkedIn.