The Safest Room in Corporate America

Before we talk about why slide decks feel so safe, it’s worth acknowledging just how dominant they’ve become.

Microsoft reports more than 500 million active PowerPoint users worldwide. Roughly 30 million new decks are created every day. And the average session, from startup to shutdown, clocks in around 250 minutes.

Let that settle for a moment.

Roughly half a billion people are spending a staggering portion of their working lives inside slide creation software. Day after day. Week after week. Millions upon millions of hours poured into boxes, bullets, icons, and templates.

That’s an extraordinary amount of human attention.

Attention that could be going toward moving hearts and minds. Toward helping people make sense of change. Toward connecting, aligning, persuading, and deciding together. Or at the very least, toward having real conversations about what actually matters.

Instead, much of it gets funneled into decks.

So when we talk about slide decks, we’re not talking about a quirky tool preference or a stylistic debate. We’re talking about a deeply embedded organizational behavior. One that has reshaped how leaders prepare, how teams communicate, and how decisions get made.

Which means we’ve earned the right to ask the uncomfortable question: Why did this become the default?

Slides Didn’t Win Because They Work

We didn’t become inundated with decks because of their persuasive prowess. They didn’t take over because they help people decide. They took over because they make leaders feel less exposed in moments that matter.

It’s unfortunate, but many leaders don’t walk into high-stakes presentations asking, “How do I help this group make a hard decision?” Instead, they ask themselves a question driven more by insecurity: How do I not get burned?

When the stakes are high, visibility feels dangerous. Judgment feels personal. Even friendly rooms can feel adversarial.

Enter the deck.

Selling ideas is hard. It requires judgment, conviction, and the willingness to advocate for a future that doesn’t yet exist. It requires standing in front of other adults and saying, “This is the direction I believe we should take, and here’s why.” Slides promise relief from that discomfort. They offer structure without ownership, coverage without courage, and the illusion that showing is the same as selling.

That illusion is powerful. It’s also why decks became the default.

If They’re Reading, They’re Not Judging

One reason slides feel so safe is that they move the spotlight. When tension rises, leaders can talk at the screen instead of with the people. Attention drifts from faces to bullets. Evaluation softens. The audience stops watching the presenter and starts scanning the text.

Nothing says “please don’t look at me” quite like forty words crammed into twelve-point font.

Formatting as Authority

Slides also borrow credibility. Charts, logos, templates, and timelines dress a proposal in the costume of inevitability. A contested future suddenly looks factual. Boxes and icons pose as truth.

If it’s formatted, it must be right. Right? RIGHT?!

Except formatting doesn’t create understanding. It signals effort. And effort is much easier to fake than judgment.

If This Goes Sideways, Blame the Deck

Slides dilute accountability. A deck feels like proof you did your homework. If the idea fails, it failed “on paper,” not because you misjudged the room, misunderstood the risk, or asked for the wrong decision.

Preparation replaces ownership. Leadership slips into documentation.

When You’re Unsure, Add More Slides

Uncertainty exaggerates this condition. When conviction is thin, content grows. More slides. More detail. More appendix. Coverage becomes a coping mechanism.

Ambiguity doesn’t disappear when you explain harder. It just gets buried under information. Clarity comes from tension, stakes, and tradeoffs, not from volume.

Rejection, but Make It Impersonal

There’s also an emotional layer few leaders like to admit. Selling an idea is vulnerable because it’s personal. You’re advocating for your interpretation, your version of the future. A “no” can feel like a rejection of your judgment or your credibility.

Slides create distance. If people push back, they’re pushing back on the deck, not you.

That, too, is an illusion.

Most no’s aren’t personal. They’re about risk, timing, and understanding. Slides don’t protect you from rejection. They just hide the signals you actually need in order to move forward.

I’ve Seen Your Demo. All of Them.

I’ve been reminded of all this recently while attending several software demos. They were remarkably similar. Thirteen slides about the company. A platform walkthrough. A feature tour.

Every demo transferred information. None of them moved me to make a decision differently. No one told a story. No one named what was at stake if nothing changed.

I didn’t leave thinking, I can see myself in that future.

I left thinking, That was… fine.

Information was shared. Belief never entered the chat.

Your Comfort, Their Confusion

Slides may make you feel safer. They often make your audience work harder. Now they have to read, listen, infer relevance, and assemble meaning in real time.

Clear to the builder. Foggy to everyone else.

That’s the tax of DeckPendency.

Trade the Shield for a Story

The alternative isn’t swearing off slides forever. It’s refusing to let them do the job only you can do.

Before a single slide appears, leaders must be able to sell the idea in plain language. What’s changing? Why now? What does it cost to do nothing? What decision is required?

When you can answer those questions, slides become supporting exhibits instead of armor.

Difficulty Doesn’t Change the Assignment

Selling ideas is genuinely difficult. That doesn’t remove the responsibility.

In an idea economy, leaders aren’t here to inform.

You’re here to move people.

Register for Storytelling for Sales

If this newsletter hit a nerve, it’s because you already know the problem.

You don’t lose deals because buyers lack information. You lose them because no one helped the room make sense of risk, change, and tradeoffs.

Slides can explain and display features. But only you can build belief.

In Storytelling for Sales, Libby and I teach presenters how to step out from behind slide decks and stand behind their ideas. You’ll learn how to replace slide-led pitches with clear narratives, structure conversations that earn trust before proposing solutions, and guide buyers toward decisions.

If your presentations need to earn attention, build trust, and actually move deals forward, join us on February 4th.

🔥 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.