Timothy Ferriss is the author of The Four-Hour Work Week ( http://tinyurl.com/cf5wxt ), a book that has generated an enormous amount of comment from reviewers who are cross with him because they believe it to be virtually fraudulent hucksterism, and those who sing his praises because the book (for them) exposes the fraudulence in the 40-hour work week. 

In short, the message provokes. 

Good message. 

But Timothy Ferriss the speaker is even more provoking and problematic.  His talk on TED.com (http://tinyurl.com/czrkbt )  either elicits strong praise or real dislike from those who have watched it.  The difference seems to be that those who can get past the man’s evident ego appreciate the intellect lurking behind the conceit.  Those who can’t get past the ego find him repellent. 

So why is it that so many audience members dislike ego so much?  And is there anything Ferriss – or another speaker afflicted with the same problem – do about it?

The short answer is that we dislike ego because as audience members we’re on the speaker’s side until he or she rejects us.  We want the speaker to succeed.  But if that speaker makes it all about him (or her) then we’ll eventually give up and turn off.  The solution?  Always make it about the audience.  Put your ego on hold and don’t talk about yourself. 

Ferriss starts his speech by committing the cardinal sin of inexperienced, highly egotistical speakers:  he tells a childhood story about himself.  He even shows us an awful childhood picture.  Amateur stuff.  Thus he digs a hole for himself that no amount of later charm will help much. 

What Ferriss is able to do is to look at certain human activities with fresh eyes, deconstruct them, and figure out how to become pretty good at them very quickly.  He needs to apply this skill to public speaking and figure out how to do it better.  Much better.  

In the TED talk, he mentions swimming, foreign language acquisition, and ballroom dancing as examples. 

Let’s see what he’s actually figured out in these areas.  Is it worth the fuss?  In swimming, he’s figured out that it’s better to stay below the water as much as possible, in order to be as streamlined as possible.  This is not news to anyone who watches the Olympics.  In foreign language acquisition, he’s figured out that if you memorize the 2,000 or so words that are most important, along with a few grammatical rules, you can get on pretty well.  Again, not news to anyone who has learned a language quickly. 

As for ballroom dancing, I’m less qualified to analyze this because my ballroom dancing is about as good as Ferriss’ apparently was before he started.  He basically offers 3 quick tips that (he claims) allow you to advance quickly in the art.  Fair enough, but once again, it strikes me that this is pretty simple stuff. 

His book is like that – it’s full of cheap tricks and shortcuts.  He won some kind of martial arts contest on a trip to Asia essentially by cheating – he figured out a way to get around the rules.  He got the prize but no one can admire him for the performance.  In case after case, the modus operandi is the same:  Ferriss games the system. 

What’s missing from the book, the talk, and Ferriss himself is some kind of passion for some aspect of human endeavor besides gaming the system.  That’s the other thing that audiences respond to – genuine passion for your subject.  Failing that, you won’t win an audience over – and you shouldn’t be talking.  Sit down, Timothy, and let someone who cares about something give a speech that will change the world.