'Put your heart in it!' - The craft of speech
brendan nelson reflects on the craft behind writing and delivering some of his most memorable speeches.
Politics ultimately rests on the power of persuasion. Until you learn to communicate effectively, whether to small or large audiences, it is difficult to achieve your own full potential. It is even more difficult to challenge and change the attitudes and outlook of those whom you lead – or wish to lead.
The most fragile yet powerful of human emotions is hope. Speech has the power to inspire, to motivate others to believe in a better future and to build it.
When I look back on the speeches profiled by the Menzies Research Centre, I appreciate just how privileged I am to have played a role in shaping our nation. I have been able to do so through leadership of the medical profession, the Liberal Party, diplomatic service, the Australian War Memorial and the Boeing Company as its global leader.
It began in Hobart. A young firebrand doctor with a reform agenda for both health and the Australian Medical Association (AMA). I found myself sitting in audiences listening to speeches delivered by my colleagues. I have not ever had training in the craft of speechmaking and delivery, but I knew what I liked listening to and what I didn’t. I found myself looking around me to see the reaction of others to what we were hearing.
Early on, I wrote speeches, but soon realised that I didn’t have time to do so. Although I was grateful to those who helped research and gather material I asked of them, I refused to deliver a speech written by someone else. People wanted to know what I thought and I was determined that is what they would hear. I learned also that audiences would always remember how you made them feel, but less often what you said. The ambition of a good speech is to offer context and meaning, evoke emotion and impart three key messages.
Like leadership, crafting and delivering a speech is not something that can be taught – but it can be learned.
It is learned through observation of, reflection upon and absorption of the substance and style of those who clearly communicate effectively and persuasively. Tone – how you say something is as important as what you are saying. In this, authenticity is essential. You must believe in what you are saying if you are to persuade people to go where in their best selves they know they need to be, but are reluctant to do so. In this, the key is to engage the audience first, taking them to a place where they will be willing to listen to what you have to say. Essentially, you need to have them with their arms not folded across their chest before you present your central argument. From humour to a simple story, the audience needs first to bedis armed. Hopefully then, they will come to accept if not embrace the substance of your argument.
Unfortunately, most of the speeches I have delivered were done without a written document. I always thought carefully beforehand what I would say, structuring it in my own mind. I start with a blank sheet of paper, recording the flow and inserting factual information I want to impart. The most difficult task is how to begin and to end. Once I have done this, it is in my head and I am prepared to speak having run over it several times internally.
From observing and working closely with John Howard, I realised that firstly, position gives you authority and a willingness on the part of an audience to listen. Howard rarely used a written speech, whether a formal event or a dinner. He spoke ‘off the cuff’. I knew he had prepared himself but I could also see that even if a speech did not flow as well, audiences are much more engaged if they know you are looking and speaking directly to them. The added advantage is that you can assess the reaction to what you are saying.
I am proud of all the speeches profiled in Speech: The Power of Persuasion. All in their own way were important at the time and played a role in shaping me and those to whom I spoke. But a number are particularly important.
My first address to the National Press Club in 1993 as President of the Australian Medical Association played a significant role in reforming the AMA as I confronted my profession with its own failings. It also directly delivered the first visible, explicit health warnings onto cigarette packets and turned the government and medical profession’s attention to Aboriginal health. AMA membership surged on the back of that speech.
As Education and Training Minister in 2005, I delivered an impromptu speech to the Liberal Party Federal Council articulating our vision for education and the inherent worth of every human being finding and achieving his or her full potential. Constantly challenging a societal attitude that spoke to young people in terms of university education being valued above all else:
The Menzian vision is equally if not more important, because of all of the things we have achieved as a country of which we can be extremely proud. One of our failings is that over the last two generations, we have created a country in which young people feel that their lives are valued by the educational choices that they make …
… no matter how hard I try, I cannot see Australia through their eyes. But if I did, I could be forgiven for thinking that if I don’t get an outstanding year 12 result, and a university education, a BMW and a mobile phone and fashionable clothes, then maybe perhaps, my life is of lesser value to my country than those who do. Every single thing that we are endeavouring to do in policy is about challenging and changing that cultural orthodoxy.
For many young people, apprenticeships and training and moving into TAFE is as equally valued as a university education. And for some young people, just getting from school to a job emotionally intact is a far more significant achievement than anything that any of us here have ever been able to do.
Perhaps the most difficult but important speech of my life is the 2008 formal Apology to forcibly removed generations of Aboriginal children. In government we had opposed an Apology since the recommendation to do so was delivered with the Bringing Them Home report in 1997. A small number of backbenchers had argued against John Howard’s opposition to a formal Apology, but most had either supported his position or gone along with him given the significant response to other recommendations it contained.
But Australia had changed in the decade to 2007. It was clear we had to support the Apology, morally and politically. This was going to be hard for us. Support for it could not be imposed on the Party Room, nor on the National Party. The process of arriving at support for it, I believed, would be critical to not only the outcome but the stability and future of the Liberal Party.
About half the Liberal Party room was supportive of an Apology. About 30 per cent had reservations through to outright opposition. The remaining 20 per cent, as is often the case, were prepared to back the leadership.
I was conscious of the suppression of dissent to which MPs had been subjected in the final two years of the Howard Government, in the interests of discipline. I knew it was important that the decision be one of the Party room and would be settled once we had all met and had an opportunity to listen to one another’s point of view. This would be important to holding things together, well beyond the issue at hand. Each one of them needed and deserved their ‘day in court’.
The language of ‘Stolen’ Generations was offending the sensibilities of many of our supporters. Though recognising in hindsight the devastating impact of removal of these children, they resented the imputation of universally bad motives. Many younger Australians especially, were enthusiastic in support of the Apology but less aware of the history.
One of the devices I learned over the years in bringing people to where they don’t want to get on difficult issues, is to make sure they know that you understand and respect their view. In their heart of hearts, I knew most of my colleagues opposed to an Apology, also knew it was the right thing to do. What upset them was the seemingly shallow nature of the debate which reduced it to slogans, running roughshod over their perspective.
What I did was publicly present the concerns of those within our ranks opposed to the Apology. “We look back now on these events over six decades with a sense of shame, but can our generation be held responsible for these forced removals? We are proud of what our ancestors did at Gallipoli, but we cannot claim responsibility for sending them. In many cases, the motives for removal were decimation and elimination of Aboriginal culture, but in others, the motives were to remove children for their own welfare in the belief they would have a better life.”
I went to Cape York and asked respected Indigenous intellectual and advocate, Noel Pearson for his views. He said, “Well Brendan, I worry a bit about it. I worry that white Australia will tune in for the Apology, tick that box and move on.” Of course he was supportive of it, but I shared his concerns. The nation would largely support the symbolism and feel-good dimensions of the Apology but neglect the substance.
On the plane back to Canberra, I decided I would do what I had done before as AMA president. On the day, I would confront Australia with the reality and existential challenges of Indigenous Australians. It would be a ‘feel good’ event. But it should be one to also jolt us into a project of national importance to improve the lives of the first Australians.
When the joint party room finally convened in early February to consider the Apology, the relieved gratitude from many that they could finally have their say, was palpable. I put the arguments before the room. The case for supporting the Apology and the case against. I then told them that my strong recommendation was that we must support the Apology. Failing to do so would, in my opinion be morally reprehensible and politically unthinkable. There would be no ‘free’ vote. We would adopt a position as a Party and as a coalition.
The debate and contributions were thoughtful, respectful and often emotional - from both sides of the debate. After almost four hours, it was clear that an overwhelming majority supported it. Some did not and a handful said they would reserve their position. I knew who they were and would speak to them privately.
When I stood to sum it up, I said in part that I would write my speech over the weekend. When I rose to deliver it the following Wednesday, every one of them would hear something of their view and perspective on this. I would do my utmost to see that in turn, all Australians would not feel ‘excluded’ from this event of national significance.
Just before we broke to leave, Bill Heffernan stood and said, “This is the best meeting I’ve ever attended. I’m proud of the bloody lot of you.”
As they left, I quietly agreed with Bill. I was proud of them also. Even those opposed to it accepted the outcome with grace.
The galleries were packed and filled with many from the ‘stolen generations’. Unbeknown to me, Kevin Rudd had earlier met and been photographed with former prime ministers, including Malcolm Fraser. John Howard of course was not among them.
The Great Hall was filled with people and large screens had been erected in public spaces throughout the nation.
Kevin Rudd spoke to the Apology and spoke well. As he did, I saw the emotion of many in the galleries and the meaning it held for them.
My turn came. What I didn’t know then, but discovered the following day from ABC Canberra, was that two of Kevin Rudd’s staff were in the Great Hall urging people to turn their backs from the screen before I had uttered a single word:
In rising to speak in support of this motion, I recognise the Ngunnawal, first peoples of this Canberra land.
Today our nation crosses a threshold.
We formally offer an apology to those Aboriginal people forcibly removed from their families through the first seven decades of the twentieth century.
In doing so, we reach from within ourselves to our past, those whose lives connect us to it and in deep understanding of its importance to our future.
We will be at our best today – and every day – if we pause to place ourselves in the shoes of others, imbued with the imaginative capacity to see this issue through their eyes with decency and respect.
This chapter in our nation’s history is emblematic of much of the relationship between indigenous and non-indigenous Australians from the arrival of the First Fleet in 1788.
I went on to describe the Australia of the decades through which these removals occurred, its values and motives. I used the words of those who had been removed, the deeply traumatising impacts and consequences. From the National Archives oral histories, I quoted directly from those who had been removed.
Controversially – and I knew it would be – I described the circumstances in which too many Indigenous people and their children find themselves today. I pointed out that more Aboriginal children are being removed today – tragically – than ever were through the period of the forced removals for which we apologised.
I also reminded the parliament and those listening, of Neville Bonner, of his life and journey. An early pioneer in the journey of reconciliation.
When I finished, an awkward silence. Joe Hockey started applauding as he stood. The entire chamber followed his lead with few exceptions. I stood looking at Kevin Rudd. We both simultaneously reached out over the dispatch boxes to shake hands. That image spoke to what had been achieved. I was proud of my party. I was proud of the Nationals. I was proud of what we had been able to achieve, notwithstanding the damage to me along the way.
At the morning tea that followed, one of our conservative Liberal Party members, a woman not known for ever supporting me, clutched my elbow. “Brendan, thank you for what you did today. You apologised for these past wrongs and you defended our dignity. Thank you.”
Each anniversary of the Apology, I receive a handful of letters and emails, similar to one that arrived in 2013 from a South Australian primary school teacher.
Dear Dr Nelson
I decided to talk to my year six class about the parliamentary Apology to the stolen generations on the occasion of the fifth anniversary. In preparing for the class, I read Kevin Rudd’s speech and I read yours. I am writing to apologise to you. I was one of the people turning my back on you the day you delivered your speech. In reading it carefully, I now appreciate the power of your words, what you said and why. It is in fact, the better speech.
The 2008 Budget-in reply address as opposition leader was another landmark for me. The Rudd Government towered over the political landscape at that time. My objective in the speech was to ‘frame’ the Government as being like the set of a western movie – facades being held up by sticks. Much style but little substance. I further wanted to announce some policy and finally, remind and enunciate to our Liberal Party members at a time of political adversity, what it is in which we believe.
The centre-piece was a cut in petrol excise. The Rudd Government had promoted ‘Fuel Watch’ as a solution to crippling petrol prices. As I announced our policy, I said “Watching the price of petrol does not make it come down.”
Late that evening, three Labor backbenchers congratulated me on a “great speech”.
The most emotional speeches I have ever delivered are those that speak to our military history, devotion to duty and individual sacrifices made in our name. The 2017 address to the National Press Club, Triumph and Tragedy brought me to tears delivering it. So too the audience was visibly moved.
The key to these speeches is to take the audience on a journey that offers them a sense of what it means to be an Australian. A combination of facts, battles and the stories of individuals in their own words. The key is to bring the dead to life and in doing so, enable people to see something of themselves in not only what they are hearing, but what they are feeling.
Another powerfully emotional speech through which I struggled to maintain my own composure, was the UN Holocaust Remembrance Day address delivered to 2,000 members of Sydney’s Jewish community in 2018. A potent reminder of the depths to which human beings – educated people – can descend in certain circumstances. That speech also speaks to my own journey of discovery in relation to values, character and moral courage.
It was a true privilege to deliver the John Howard Lecture in his presence in 2021. Liberal philosophy, national values, a transformational geopolitical realignment, Australian history, military sacrifices and an idea to create a resting place for Indigenous remains before the Australian parliament and the restructuring of Australia Day that should remain 26 January and why. It is a speech of which I am proud in paying tribute to those who made us who we are and gave us what we have. Foremost amongst them, John Howard.
It was said of Sir Winston Churchill that he had “weaponised the English language in the defence of Great Britain”. So too anyone wanting to change a world that yields so painfully to it, needs to master the crafting and delivery of a speech. Within these pages lies my own attempt to do so.
Brendan Nelson served as Defence Minister under the Howard Government and later chair of the Australian War Memorial. He was also ambassador to the EU and NATO and before that he led the federal Liberal Party. Dr Nelson now serves as president of Boeing Global. This is the foreword from Speech: The Power of Persuasion, a selection of Nelson’s best speeches.
