Find a speaker on better communication at work. Using storytelling instead of data to be more relatable, memorable and land your business message.

1.2 Stories as short examples, not long narratives

When I say story, I don’t mean a sweeping life tale with a beginning, a middle and a dramatic ending. I mean a small, human example that does one job well.

At work, long stories can get in the way. They slow things down. They test patience. And they often lose the very people you’re trying to reach. That’s why I encourage people to think in anecdotes, not narratives.

A good workplace story is brief and purposeful. It might be something you noticed yesterday. A moment from a meeting. A conversation that didn’t go as planned. A tiny insight that helps explain why something matters. That’s enough.

These short examples add colour and meaning to what you’re saying without hijacking the conversation. They give people something concrete to latch onto. An image. A feeling. A “yes, I’ve seen that too” moment.

We already do this naturally outside work. Tell a friend why you’re late and you’ll instinctively reach for a quick example. Yet as soon as we step into a meeting room, we strip all of that away and default to abstract language and bullet points.

The shift here is simple. Don’t ask yourself, What’s my story?
Ask yourself, What’s one real example that helps this land?

That’s all most situations need. A short, well-chosen moment that brings your point to life and then lets you move on.

1.3 Why we default to facts and data

Facts feel safe. That’s the honest truth.

At work, facts and data give us something solid to stand on. They feel professional. Defensible. If someone challenges you, you can point to a spreadsheet, a report, a metric and think, well, you can’t argue with that. And for many of us, especially in serious or senior environments, that feels like the sensible thing to do.

There’s also a confidence element here. When nerves kick in, we retreat to information. Numbers don’t wobble. Charts don’t judge you. Facts don’t expose you in the same way your own opinion might. So we pile them up and hope they’ll do the heavy lifting.

The problem is, facts don’t do very much on their own.

I’ve sat in countless meetings and presentations where the information was accurate, detailed and technically sound. And yet the room drifted. Eyes glazed. People nodded politely and then forgot what they’d just heard. Not because they didn’t care, but because nothing connected that information to real life.

Data explains what. It rarely explains why it matters.

When you rely on facts alone, you’re asking people to do all the work themselves. You’re hoping they’ll join the dots, feel the relevance and remember it later. Most of the time, they don’t. Not because they’re lazy or disengaged, but because the human brain doesn’t work that way.

Stories don’t replace facts. They support them. They give them context, meaning and a place to land.

If you notice yourself defaulting to data, that’s not a flaw. It’s a habit. And once you see it, you can start to layer something human on top. That’s where your message begins to stick.

1.4 Energy without theatrics

This is the bit people often worry about.

They hear “storytelling” and immediately picture someone louder, slicker, more confident than they feel. More extroverted. More performative. And they quietly decide it’s not for them.

You don’t need to become a different version of yourself to be engaging. You don’t need big gestures, dramatic pauses or a keynote voice. What people respond to is clarity, intention and a touch of humanity.

When you use a short example to make a point, you naturally add energy. Not artificial energy. Real energy. The kind that comes from meaning something and wanting it to land.

I see this all the time. People say, “I’m not very animated,” or “I’m not a natural speaker.” But when they talk about something that actually happened to them, something they care about, their voice changes. Their pace changes. Their face changes. They don’t act differently. They connect differently.

Stories do the heavy lifting for you.
They create interest without you having to push it.
They add warmth without you having to dial anything up.

This isn’t about being the most entertaining person in the room. It’s about being the most understandable. The most relatable. The easiest to follow.

And that’s good news. Because it means you can stay exactly as you are and still communicate with confidence and impact.

1.5 Structure what you need to say with Penny Haslam’s FACE technique

One of the biggest myths about storytelling at work is that you have to prepare it in advance. It needs a script. Or slides. Or the “right moment”.

Most of the time, it doesn’t.

The moments where stories matter most are usually live. A meeting. A discussion. A question you didn’t see coming. That point where you’re deciding whether to speak up or stay quiet.

This is where my technique, FACE, is perfect.

I created FACE after years of interviewing business leaders on air and coaching professionals who desperately wanted to sound confident but didn’t want to perform. FACE isn’t about telling big stories. It’s a simple structure that helps you organise what comes out of your mouth when you’re thinking on your feet.

Here’s what it stands for.

Fact
Start with something grounded and true. A situation. An experience. A real event. This establishes credibility straight away.

Additional detail
Add just enough context to help people picture it. Not opinion. Not drama. Just colour.

Comment
This is where your value lives. Your judgement. Your perspective. What you think about what happened.

Example
A short, real moment that brings the point to life. This is what people remember.

What FACE does brilliantly is remove the pressure to “sound clever”. You’re not inventing anything. You’re simply organising things you already know and have experienced.

My FACE example

‘I used to work at Radio 4.
One day, I was sent out to interview the inventor of SMS text messaging.

At the time (late 1990s), I had a Nokia with a tiny screen. I turned it off when I wasn’t using it.

So, I head to this office in central London. It’s a hot day. No lift. No air conditioning. I’m schlepping up the stairs. His office is exactly what you’d expect. Messy. Papers piled everywhere. Journals stacked high. A proper inventor’s den.

We’re standing in the middle of the room when he pulls out a phone. Not my basic Nokia. This one has a large screen. And on that screen, he played a video. Japanese students in ski gear at the top of a snow-capped mountain. They were filming themselves, waving, saying hello mum!

The inventor looked at me and said, “Penny, this is the future.”
And I remember thinking, No chance. This will never take off.’

So what where the elements of FACE in this story?

Fact
I worked at Radio 4.

That’s neutral. It’s credible. No one can argue with it.

Add
I interviewed the inventor of SMS text messaging.

That’s more factual detail. It builds context and shows relevance.

Comment
I thought smartphones that we now take for granted would never catch on.

That’s my judgement. My opinion. My human take, based on where I was at the time.

Example
Everything else.
The hot day.
The stairs.
The messy office.
The phone with moving images of students on a snow capped mountain.

That example creates a picture. It gives you something to see and feel, not just something to process.

And that’s the point.

FACE stops you either freezing because you “don’t know what to say”, or rambling because you haven’t decided what matters. It gives you a simple way to plan your thinking so that when you speak, you sound clear, confident and human.

You can use it before a meeting.
You can use it live, in the moment.
You can use it for talks, panels, media, videos, emails or LinkedIn posts.

And you don’t have to use it in order. CAFE, EFAC, whatever works. It’s not a script. It’s a thinking tool.

Once you understand FACE, you stop wondering if you have a story.
You realise you’ve got dozens.

For people who don’t naturally shoot from the hip, this is a huge confidence boost. It gives you a way in. A mental handrail. You don’t have to fight your nerves or wait for the perfect wording. You just move through the structure.

It’s also reassuringly low-tech. This isn’t something you need to memorise or rehearse. It can sit on the back of an envelope. On a notepad beside you. In your head as a quiet prompt.

2. How to truly engage your audience by making it relevant to them

2.1 W.I.I.F.M. – what’s in it for me?

This is the moment where communication either lands or quietly dies.

Every single person you speak to is listening through the same internal filter, whether they admit it or not: what does this mean for me? Not in a selfish way. In a human way. We all have priorities, pressures, deadlines and worries humming away in the background. Whatever you say has to compete with that noise.

This is why perfectly sensible messages so often fail to connect at work. You might be clear. You might be accurate. You might even be passionate. But if the listener can’t quickly see how what you’re saying relates to their world, their attention drifts. Not because they’re rude. Because their brain is doing its job.

I always say this gently but honestly: people don’t really care about you. They care about themselves. Once you accept that, communication gets much easier.

When you start from what’s in it for them, you immediately shift your mindset. Instead of thinking, What do I need to say? you start thinking, What do they need to hear? That small change makes everything sharper. It influences the examples you choose, the detail you include and the language you use.

This isn’t about manipulation. It’s about relevance. When people recognise themselves in what you’re saying, they lean in. They listen. And only then do they decide whether your message matters.

If you want to engage an audience, any audience, start where they are. Not where you are.

2.2 Different audiences hear differently

One of the biggest mistakes I see at work is assuming that because you care about something, everyone else will too. In the same way. For the same reasons.

They won’t.

Different audiences listen for different cues. They’re not being difficult. They’re filtering what you say through what they are responsible for, what they’re under pressure to deliver and what’s keeping them awake at night.

So the same message lands very differently depending on who’s in front of you.

Senior leaders tend to listen for impact. Risk. Reputation. Outcomes. They’re asking themselves, “How does this affect the organisation as a whole?” and “What happens if we get this wrong?”

Managers are often listening for practicality. What does this mean for their team? Their workload? Their targets? How hard is this going to be to implement?

Operational teams want clarity. What’s changing? What do I need to do differently? When does this start? How will this affect my day-to-day work?

Suppliers and external partners are usually focused on expectations, timelines and relationships. Where do they fit? What’s required of them? What does success look like?

None of these audiences are wrong. They’re just listening through different lenses.

This is why a one-size-fits-all message rarely works. It’s also why people leave town halls excited at the top and confused by the time they get back to their desks.

Engaging your audience starts with accepting this simple truth:
what matters to you is not automatically what matters to them.

Once you recognise that, you stop trying to broadcast information and start shaping it. You begin to adapt your stories, examples and emphasis so that each audience hears what’s relevant to them — without you having to say more, shout louder or repeat yourself endlessly.

And that’s when communication starts to feel easier. More intentional. And far more effective.

2.3 Pains and gains thinking

This is where things start to get really useful.

A few years ago, I came across a tool from a company called Strategizer called the Value Proposition Canvas. It’s normally used in marketing and product design. Big organisations use it to work out why anyone should buy what they’re selling.

When I saw it, I had one of those moments where you think, why are we only using this for customers? Because the same thinking applies brilliantly to everyday workplace communication.

At its simplest, the idea is this:
every person you speak to has pains and gains.

Pains are the things that worry them, frustrate them or keep them awake at night.
Gains are what they’re trying to achieve, protect or be seen for.

Once you start thinking like this, communication stops being about pushing information out and starts being about landing it.

If I’m talking to a new recruit, their pain might be not wanting to look foolish or out of their depth. Their gain might be fitting in quickly and being trusted.
If I’m talking to a senior leader, their pain might be risk, reputation or missing targets. Their gain might be stability, progress and long-term success.

Same message. Very different lens.

This doesn’t require deep psychology or perfect insight. It’s just a short pause before you speak where you ask yourself:
If I were them, what would I care about most right now?

When you frame your story, your example or your explanation through that lens, people feel understood. And when people feel understood, they listen.

That’s when your message starts to land.

2.4 Emotional as well as practical drivers

Here’s the bit we often miss at work.

We tell ourselves that decisions are rational. That people are driven by targets, budgets, timelines and KPIs. And yes, those things matter. Of course they do.

But people don’t leave their emotions at the door when they log on or walk into a meeting.

Alongside the practical pressures, there’s a quieter layer running underneath. Fear of getting it wrong. Worry about how something will land. A desire to be trusted. Pressure to look competent. Concern about reputation. Relief when something finally makes sense.

I see this all the time. Someone asks for more data when what they really want is reassurance. Someone pushes back on a proposal not because it’s flawed, but because it threatens their sense of control. Someone looks disengaged because they’re overwhelmed, not because they don’t care.

When you recognise that, your communication changes.

You stop trying to win people over with volume. You stop piling on detail. You start addressing what’s really driving their reaction.

That might sound like:

• “I know this feels risky, so here’s how we’ve reduced that risk.”
•  “This will make your life easier because…”
•  “The reason this matters now is…”

Stories help here because they speak to both layers at once. They carry information and emotion together. They show impact, not just intention.

When you acknowledge the emotional drivers alongside the practical ones, people feel seen. And when people feel seen, they listen.

2.5 Empathy over information dumping

One of the easiest mistakes to make at work is assuming that more information equals better communication.

It feels logical. If I explain it properly. If I give the background. If I show I’ve done the thinking. If I cover every angle. Then people will understand.

But understanding doesn’t come from volume. It comes from relevance.

I see this all the time. Someone stands up in a meeting and gives a beautifully thorough explanation. Context. History. Data. Caveats. By the end, everyone in the room is nodding politely and thinking about their inbox.

Not because the content is bad. But because it hasn’t connected to what matters to them.

Empathy changes that.

Empathy says: what does this person actually need from me right now?
Not everything I know. Not everything I’ve prepared. Just the bit that helps them do their job, make a decision or feel reassured.

Sometimes that means dialling down the detail.
Sometimes it means slowing down and giving context rather than speed.
Sometimes it means naming the concern you know they’re carrying before you launch into your point.

When you do that, people lean in. They feel seen. And once that happens, they’re far more open to hearing the information itself.

This is why engagement isn’t about being clever or articulate. It’s about being attuned. When you start with empathy, your message has somewhere to land.

2.6 Stories as bridges between silos

One of the biggest reasons messages don’t land at work is that people struggle to see how something connects to them.

You might understand your work inside out. Your priorities are obvious to you. But outside your role, it can all feel distant, technical or irrelevant. That’s where stories do their best work.

A simple human example helps people step out of their own silo and into the bigger picture. It turns your activity into shared understanding.

This matters particularly when:

• You’re explaining specialist work to non-specialists
• You’re sharing analysis, risk, finance or technical updates
• You’re asking people to care about something that isn’t part of their day job

Facts alone can create distance. Stories reduce it. Stories help people join the dots. They show how one piece of work affects another. How one decision ripples out. How effort in one area creates value elsewhere.

When people can picture a real situation, a real consequence or a real outcome, your work stops sounding abstract. It starts to feel relevant.

And when people see why something matters beyond your department, they’re far more likely to listen, remember and act.

2.7 Joining the dots for senior audiences

One of the most powerful things you can do when you’re communicating at work is help people see why your work matters beyond your own role.

Most people are deeply embedded in their own priorities. Their risks. Their pressures. Their targets. If you don’t join the dots for them, they won’t do it themselves.

This matters at every level, but it matters most when you’re communicating upwards.

Senior leaders are rarely short of information. What they want is context. Meaning. Consequence. They are listening for how today’s activity connects to tomorrow’s outcomes.

This is where simple, explicit language makes a huge difference.

I often encourage people to use connective phrases like:

• So we can…
• Which means that…
• In order to…

They may sound basic, but they do serious work.

They lift your message out of detail and into impact. They show how effort in one area ripples into others. They connect operational activity to risk, reputation, performance and long-term value.

For example, instead of saying:
“We’ve tightened our process and reduced errors.”

You might say:
“We’ve tightened our process and reduced errors so we can deliver faster, which means customers trust us more, in order to protect our reputation and win repeat business.”

Same facts. Completely different result.

This is why stories matter so much when you’re speaking to senior people. A short example gives them something to picture. A consequence they can feel. A future they can see.

When you combine a clear example with explicit dot-joining, you stop sounding like someone reporting activity and start sounding like someone who understands the bigger picture.

And that’s what senior audiences are really listening for.

2.9 Audience awareness as a skill

Engaging people isn’t about charisma. It’s about awareness.

Before you speak, there’s a tiny pause you can learn to take. Just a moment to ask yourself: who is this for?

Not in a vague, corporate way. In a human one.

What are they walking into this conversation carrying? Pressure. Time constraints. A target. A fear. A decision they have to make later today. When you tune into that, even briefly, what you say changes. And how it lands changes with it.

This is a skill. Not a personality trait.

You don’t need to become more confident, louder or more polished. You just need to step into the listener’s shoes for a beat and shape your message from there. That might mean cutting detail. It might mean adding context. It might mean sharing a short example instead of another slide.

When people feel seen in a conversation, they lean in. They listen differently. They remember more. And they’re far more likely to act on what you’ve said.

That’s real engagement. Not performance. Just thoughtful, intentional communication that starts with the other person, not you.

3. How to be remembered (embedding messages over time)

3.1 The forgetting curve

One of the most uncomfortable truths about communication at work is this: just because you’ve said something, it doesn’t mean it’s been remembered.

In fact, it’s usually the opposite.

There’s a well-established principle in psychology called the forgetting curve, first identified by German psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus in the late 1800s. His research showed that when people are exposed to new information, they forget it far more quickly than they expect. Without reinforcement, most of it fades within days. Often within hours.

You tell someone something on Monday.
By Friday, it’s gone.
By the following week, it’s as if you never said it at all.

This isn’t because people are careless or disengaged. It’s because they are human. They are busy, distracted and processing huge volumes of information every day. Your message is competing with emails, meetings, deadlines and life.

This is where many workplace communications fall down. We assume that clarity equals retention. That if we explained it well once, the job is done.

It isn’t.

The forgetting curve reminds us that memory needs help. It needs repetition. It needs context. And crucially, it needs meaning. If information doesn’t connect to anything emotional, visual or personally relevant, the brain quietly lets it go.

That’s why relying on a single announcement, a single meeting or a single slide deck is so risky. You’re not embedding a message. You’re introducing it and hoping for the best.

Understanding the forgetting curve isn’t about blaming your audience. It’s about designing your communication with reality in mind. If something matters, it needs to be said more than once and in a way that gives the brain a reason to hold onto it.

3.2 Why storytelling supports memory

If you want people to remember what you’ve said, you have to give their brain something to hold on to.

Facts on their own are slippery. They arrive. They make sense. Then they disappear. Not because people aren’t listening, but because the brain doesn’t store information well when it arrives with no emotional hook.

Stories work differently.

When you share a short, human example, something shifts. People don’t just hear it. They picture it. They feel it. Their brain lights up in more places at once. And that matters, because memory is strengthened when emotion and imagery are involved.

This is why a quick anecdote from a meeting will stick longer than a perfectly sensible statistic. It’s why people remember a moment, a reaction or a consequence long after they’ve forgotten the detail.

Stories give information a home.

They attach your message to:

• a person
• a situation
• a feeling
• an outcome

And once that happens, recall improves dramatically.

This doesn’t mean being dramatic or oversharing. A story can be as simple as, “I saw this happen last month when…” or “A client said something that really stuck with me…”

That’s enough.

You’re not trying to entertain. You’re helping the brain do its job.

When information is framed through a relatable human experience, it becomes easier to retrieve later. People don’t have to work to remember it. It comes back to them naturally, often at exactly the moment they need it.

3.3 Statistics versus stories

We tend to lean on statistics at work because they feel solid. Defensible. Sensible. Numbers look professional and they’re hard to argue with.

But they’re also incredibly easy to forget.

There’s a brilliant statistic from the book Made to Stick by Chip and Dan Heath that I often share because it stops people in their tracks. Around 63% of people will remember a story, but only about 5% will remember a statistic.

That gap matters.

If you stand up in a meeting and deliver a perfectly accurate set of numbers, chances are most people will nod along and then lose it almost immediately. Not because they don’t care. Not because they’re not intelligent. But because the brain doesn’t hold on to information unless it has something to attach it to.

Stories give information a hook.

They add context, emotion and imagery. They help people picture what the numbers actually mean in the real world. And once something is pictured, it’s far more likely to be remembered.

This doesn’t mean you ditch the data. Data is important. Facts matter. But if you want those facts to land, you need to anchor them in something human.

A short example. A moment. A consequence someone can imagine.

That’s what turns information into something that sticks rather than something that slides straight off.

3.4 Repetition with purpose

One of the biggest mistakes we make at work is assuming that saying something once is enough.

We announce it.
We explain it.
We feel we’ve been clear.

And then we’re surprised when nothing changes.

The problem isn’t that people aren’t listening. It’s that the brain doesn’t work like that.

We are all swimming in information all day long. Emails, meetings, messages, notifications. Even important messages get pushed aside unless they are reinforced. That’s not a motivation issue. It’s a memory issue.

This is where repetition matters. But not repetition in the sense of saying the same thing, in the same way, again and again. That just creates noise.

What works is repetition with purpose.

Repeating a message:

• In different moments
• In slightly different words
• With different examples
• Through different lenses

Each time, you’re giving the brain another hook. Another chance to store it somewhere more permanent.

This is why stories are so powerful here. You don’t need to repeat the same story. You can repeat the message using different short examples that point to the same idea. Each one reinforces the meaning without sounding like a broken record.

There’s a line I often share with clients:
By the time you are bored of saying something, it might just be starting to land.

At work, we often stop too early. We assume silence means understanding. Or we move on because we feel awkward repeating ourselves. But clarity rarely comes from one perfectly delivered message. It comes from thoughtful reinforcement over time.

Repetition isn’t nagging. When done well, it’s leadership.

3.5 The message matrix as a planning tool

Once you accept that people forget most of what they hear, the question changes.

It’s no longer “How do I say this well?”
It becomes “How do I make sure this actually lands?”

This is where the message matrix comes in.

I use it with clients who are frustrated because they feel like they’ve already communicated something clearly… yet nothing has changed. People are confused. The message hasn’t stuck. Or worse, it’s been misunderstood.

The mistake is usually the same.
They’ve said the thing once, in one way, to everyone.

The message matrix forces you to slow down and plan communication deliberately instead of hoping for the best.

At its simplest, it asks three questions:

• Who needs to hear this?
• What do they actually need to understand?
• How will it make the most sense to them?

Not everyone needs the same version of the message.

Senior leaders care about risk, reputation, delivery and outcomes.
Managers care about implementation and pressure on their teams.
Employees care about what’s changing for them, when and why.
Suppliers care about expectations and impact on delivery.

Same decision. Different lenses.

The matrix helps you map that out before you speak. It stops you relying on a single announcement, a single meeting or a single email and hoping it will somehow do the job.

It’s also a useful check on your own assumptions.

If you struggle to explain how your message lands differently for different audiences, that’s usually a sign the communication isn’t finished yet.

The goal of the message matrix isn’t more communication.
It’s better targeted communication.

When you use it well, you move from broadcasting information to embedding understanding.

3.5 Permission to be human

I want to end where I often end my work with people. With permission.

Permission to stop sounding like a report.
Permission to stop hiding behind data.
Permission to stop waiting until you feel “ready” or “polished enough” to speak.

The most memorable communication at work doesn’t come from perfect wording or clever slides. It comes from you. Your experience. Your judgement. Your point of view. Your stories.

When you share a real example, when you admit uncertainty, when you explain why something matters to you, people lean in. Not because it’s dramatic or theatrical, but because it’s human. And humans are wired to listen to other humans.

Confidence doesn’t come from performing. It comes from clarity. Knowing what you want to say, why it matters and who it’s for. Storytelling gives you that structure, but it never replaces your voice. It amplifies it.

So if there’s one thing I’d encourage you to do more of at work, it’s this: give yourself permission to bring a little more of yourself into the room. A short example. A moment you’ve noticed. A line that helps people see the bigger picture.

That’s how messages land.
That’s how they stick.
And that’s how you communicate with confidence, even in the moment.