Why Are We Addicted to Decks?

The lights dim. The projector hums. A leader stands at the front of the room, advancing slide after slide. Each is dense with words, charts, and bullets. She reads them dutifully, her eyes on the screen instead of the people in front of her. The audience follows for a few seconds, then slips quietly into their phones.

No one engages. No one connects.

Now imagine the same leader in the same room. But this time there’s no projector. No slides. She looks directly at her team. She paints a picture of the future they’re building together. She pauses. She asks a question. She listens. The conversation breathes.

People lean in because she’s not presenting at them. She’s present with them.

As leaders, that’s the choice in front of us every time we communicate our vision. We can present to an audience, or we can be present with an audience. We can’t do both. Still, the corporate environment is rigged to push us toward the former. Decks feel safe. They feel expected. They give the illusion of control. But in reality, they keep us from the very thing we want most: connection.

The Biochemistry of DeckPendence

When opportunity knocks — a presentation to your boss, a pitch to a client, a board update — our bodies flood with adrenaline. This hormone converts our calm, alpha brainwaves into beta waves. Beta waves sharpen us for action, but they’re hungry. Needy, even. They demand a problem to solve. A weapon to grab.

Our brains don’t distinguish between a charging tiger and a conference room full of executives. Both feel like threats. So we reach for the most familiar weapon. The one that “worked last time”: presentation software. PowerPoint. Keynote. Google Slides.

Adrenaline, a fickle and misleading mistress, tells us: Do what you’ve done before. Grab the tool that feels safe. But safe isn’t effective. When the stakes are high, the last thing we should do is retreat to the familiar.

In our rush to prepare, we abandon the actual substance of persuasion.

The deck has become a pacifier, not a strategic companion.

What Kind of Damage Are We Doing?

Let’s start with the numbers:

• 500 million people use PowerPoint.

• 30 million decks are created daily.

• The average PowerPoint session runs 250 minutes, startup to shutdown.

• The average slide holds 40 words.

That’s billions of hours poured into formatting bullets. And what do we get for it?

46% of employees admit they zone out during presentations (Prezi, 2024). Nearly half of every audience mentally GTFOs (most report grabbing their phones as their favorite distraction).

We can turn to cognitive psychology for the answers to why this happens. We process information two ways:

Serial processing is chewing through one piece of information at a time.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Parallel processing is handling more than one stream at once.

<=====================================>

The human brain is proficient only in serial processing. We should leave parallel processing to computers, which were built for that.

When we ask audiences to read words on a slide while hearing words spoken aloud, recall plummets. Presenters often sabotage themselves by using a deck as a teleprompter.

And when these two issues collide (proliferation + processing), the result is countless hours wasted creating decks that dilute our ideas instead of amplifying them.

Breaking the Cycle

The good news: we don’t have to stay stuck. Forbes reports 70% of professionals want to improve their presentation skills. That hunger means change is possible, if we commit to it. Here’s where we start.

We will trade bullets for images.

The “Picture Superiority Effect” shows people remember visuals far longer than text. Instead of cramming 40 words on a slide, we’ll choose a single compelling image that reinforces the story we’re telling.

We will structure our ideas with story.

Lists and bullet points don’t stick. Stories do. We’ll use time-tested narrative arcsto organize our content. We will help people feel our ideas, beyond merely seeing, hearing or reading them.

We will practice recall, not recitation.

A deck tempts us to read. But real authority comes from knowing the material well enough to recall it. We’ll outline, rehearse, and internalize so the focus stays on the message, not the monitor.

We will design visuals for the audience, not for us.

Our slides are not our notes.

Repeat that. Say it out loud: Our slides are not our notes.

They are the audience’s visual reinforcement. If, and only if, they’re necessary, we will build them to support and reinforce our ideas, not to comfort ourselves.

We will ditch the deck entirely.

A whiteboard sketch. A handout. A live demo. Even silence. These alternative media feel risky, but they pull people in because they break expectation. They remind the audience: this moment is different.

Each of these commitments gives us more weapons in the fight for attention. More ways to serve the idea, not the software.

Our Value Isn’t in the Deck

Many leaders have been taught we’re only as valuable as the information we share. So we cling to slides as proof of that value. But that’s a lie.

Our value is not in the deck. It’s in the story.

It’s in the meaning we give the information. The vision we paint of the future state. The belief we build in others.

Slides are either our thinnest armor or our security blanket.

Story moves people.

Do You Want to Move People?

At GatherRound, we teach leadership teams tools to communicate the value of their ideas so they can:

• Gain buy-in for high-stakes initiatives.

• Grow as leaders.

• Alleviate dependence on decks.

• Transform their work with strategic storytelling.

To learn more, download the booklet below about The Campfire Method™.

Then,

🔥 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.