Slides that sparkle. Phrases engineered to trend. Strategic decks with bold pillars and even bolder adjectives. Somewhere in the race to produce the perfect message, leaders are slipping into performative storytelling — technically flawless yet emotionally vacant.
It’s not surprising that, according to a Gallup study, only 13% of employees strongly agree that the leadership of their organization communicates effectively.
In my work with executives, I’ve seen leaders treat storytelling as another metric to hit. They deliver the right beats, smile at the right time, hit the applause lines — and leave no trace. It’s like watching a movie trailer that never convinces you to see the film.
Nancy Duarte has spent over three decades shaping how leaders communicate. As CEO of Duarte, Inc. and the author of six best-selling books — including Slide:ology, Resonate, Illuminate and DataStory — she’s taught visual storytelling to some of the highest-performing brands and executives in the world.
Her firm designed the makeover of Al Gore’s slide presentation that inspired the Academy Award–winning documentary An Inconvenient Truth. Recognized globally for her expertise, she has advised CEOs, political leaders, and entrepreneurs whose work has shifted public discourse.
We recently had a wide-ranging conversation about the power of storytelling. “Most leaders aren’t short on polish. They’re short on presence,” Duarte told me. “I’ve sat through so many presentations that were technically flawless, yet gave no clue why the leader cared about the message at all.”
The Multiverse Problem: Micro Stories Without A Master Narrative
Duarte describes today’s communication environment as a “multiverse of stories,” where micro-narratives fly across TikToks, Instagram Reels, and Slack posts. Leaders now must make each one fit into a coherent whole.
Leaders who built their careers in an era of long-form storytelling — town halls, memos, full speeches — now work in an attention economy that measures interest in seconds. “Micro stories are powerful, but if they’re not tied back to the master narrative, the big picture gets lost,” she said. “The core message should hold true across every platform. One person might bring it to life with visuals on LinkedIn, another might deliver it as a monologue at an event, but the essence stays the same.”
Consider a CEO who shares a deeply personal customer moment at a conference. A week later, a short version of that story circulates widely, stripped of its emotional context. Internally, it’s reduced to a bullet point. The same story now carries three meanings — none fully aligned.
The Fog Index And The Clarity Test
Duarte and I spoke about the Gunning Fog Index — a readability tool that estimates how many years of education a person might need to fully understand a piece of content. It’s a quick way to see whether your language is clear or unnecessarily complex.
We looked at two famous 2007 speeches: Bill Gates’ CES keynote scored a Fog Index of 10.5, while Steve Jobs’ Macworld address scored just 5.5. In practical terms, understanding Gates’ speech might require roughly five more years of schooling compared to Jobs’.
Both had their strengths. Gates built layered, detail-rich arguments; Jobs leaned on simplicity and narrative flow. Duarte’s point wasn’t to favor one over the other but to underscore the importance of knowing your own style — and being intentional about clarity.
As she put it: “When you’re the one making it, and you’re in there up to your elbows, you get really caught up in the technical features instead of the benefits.”
Leaders don’t need to strip away complexity, but they do need to speak in a way that connects.
Compare this:
“A transformational growth agenda leveraging synergistic capabilities…” (Fog.)
“We’re entering three new markets in two years — here’s why it matters to customers.” (Clear.)
I’ve seen executive meetings where dense shorthand lost half the room. The plan was robust — but buried in abstraction.
Strategy Lost In Translation
A 2025 Axios HQ report found that 33% of leaders had to set aside their own priorities to fix problems caused by poor communication. Another 30% were drawn deeper into projects than necessary, while 27% spent excessive time clarifying or reiterating objectives, goals, or organizational policies. The study estimated the cost of this inefficiency at $10,140 per employee per year.
The same research revealed a striking perception gap. While 80% of leaders believe their internal communications are helpful, relevant, and provide the context teams need to do their jobs, only 53% of employees agree.
That gap shows how easily clarity and connection can get lost when information moves faster than people can absorb it.
“When you try to produce too much content too fast, you end up in a race to the bottom,” Duarte told me. “Messages get shorter, but also shallower. And in that rush, leaders lose the thread of what actually matters.”
I’ve seen leadership teams chase engagement metrics over meaning. What sticks isn’t the substance but the clever caption. A slogan fades quickly. A clearly articulated purpose endures.
Can AI Be the Storyteller’s Assistant?
“We’ve made storytelling look presentable,” she said. “But we’ve forgotten to make it personal.”
The result is messaging that sounds plausible but lands flat — especially when it’s generated or augmented by tools designed to produce language without grounding it in belief.
Duarte’s critique is blunt: “It’s a race to the bottom. Chum and chum and chum.”
By “chum,” she isn’t just talking about poor writing. She means the flood of technically fine but soulless output, stripped of originality and the leader’s voice. “I can load a model with my own IP and have it churn something out,” she said. “It comes back fine, but I still spend hours rewriting it.”
The tool can help, but it’s a means, not the destination. And when leaders treat storytelling as just another deliverable, the voice that makes people care often disappears with it.
The Risk Of Narrative Drift
Every organization has a formal message — strategy decks, town halls, culture statements. Underneath those is the lived narrative, the one people actually believe. When those two stories diverge, trust fades.
Duarte was direct: “A really good leader would have his or her whole leadership team saying the same language. They might express it a little differently to their constituents, but there shouldn’t be that much deviation.”
Drift happens quickly when storytelling is fragmented by function or flattened by jargon. Marketing promotes a campaign. HR announces a change. Operations reorders the work. Everyone’s speaking, but the signals conflict — and employees start filling in the gaps with their own stories.
“You stayed transparent and authentic,” she said, reflecting on how organizations must respond in moments of public pressure. “If you’re living your values and living your culture and you put something out there… and it has a reaction… you stayed true to yourself.”
That, she added, is the real test: “All the company values get pressed, and that’s when employees say, you claim to value integrity, but look what you just did under pressure.”
Anchoring Stories In Passion And Purpose
For a story to resonate, leaders must connect with it personally. “If you can’t connect to it emotionally, your audience won’t either,” Duarte emphasized.
A product lead can explain a release roadmap in bullet points — dry. Or they can tell the story of the original customer email that inspired it. Through that lens, the same facts gain meaning.
When I coach senior leaders, I’ve seen both sides. One spent months perfecting cadence, rehearsing until every pause and gesture felt choreographed. The result was flawless — and forgettable. Another, far less polished, spoke plainly about a difficult choice and why it mattered. Their voice caught. The room went still. That moment lingered far longer than any slide.
In Duarte’s experience, that personal connection shapes tone, pace, presence. When a leader truly cares, people lean forward. Without it, even the most polished delivery feels empty.
Building A Story That Lives Beyond You
Duarte stresses that a leader’s story must survive without them in the room: “If the only way the story works is when you’re the one telling it, it’s too fragile. It has to move through the organization without losing shape.”
She believes the leader’s role isn’t just to announce strategy but to carry its arc through time and disruption. That arc can’t just live in slides. “All the little stories, all the bites, all the tweets… they should all align.”
In Illuminate, she describes the leader as torchbearer — not the one with all the answers, but the one who carries forward meaning. “Business is an epic tale — especially for those that rise and fall.”
When leaders treat communication as episodic rather than cumulative, they lose what builds belief. “Your values should be able to endure the pressure,” she said. “Otherwise they’re just slogans.”
That applies to individuals too: “You should be able to say one of the company values and tell a personal story about how you lived it today.” Storytelling, in that sense, isn’t about shaping a message — it’s about reinforcing what already matters.
Leader’s Story Check
Before your next presentation, run your story through these filters. If it fails more than one, it may be performance — not presence.
- Personal stake — Why does this matter to you? Can you tie it to a lived experience?
- Passion — Does your energy rise when you tell it? Without a script, will it still matter to you?
- Clarity — Can someone repeat the main point after hearing it once? Can a frontline employee tell it in their words?
- Breathing room — Is there space for questions or detours, or is it so scripted that an interruption would throw you off?
- Fog index — Could a 15-year-old understand it? If not, simplify.
- Repeatability — Will it hold meaning when told by others?
A story worth telling meets all six. It feels lived in, edged with humanity, and carries the leader’s fingerprints — not just their polish. It’s the kind of story they can’t help but tell.
Duarte left me with a powerful closing reminder: “When leaders find the story they can’t help but tell, everything changes. It’s not about delivering the perfect line. It’s about making people believe you believe it.”
Trust is in short supply. Belief, too. In that climate, a story a leader can’t help but tell becomes more than a message — it’s a survival skill. It can reconnect the disengaged, cut through the noise, and give people something solid to hold onto. But only if it reflects what they already suspect to be true.
In the end, presence matters more than polish. The slides can still sparkle — but the story has to breathe.