The Most Underrated Leadership Tool: The Story

You probably know that "story" matters in your presentations. And yet it’s the first thing that gets cut.

The moment the clock tightens.
The moment someone says, “We just need to get the message across.”
The moment the deck starts to feel heavy.

‘Story’ is treated like decoration. Nice if there’s time. Optional if there isn’t.

That’s a mistake.

A few years ago, I was sitting in the audience at a conference when business wasn’t going well. Really not going well. 

I was listening to a panel of people I respected. People who, from the outside, looked like they had it all figured out, and they started telling stories. Not polished success stories. Real ones. Moments of doubt, struggle and times when things didn’t come together.

They were describing experiences I was having in real time.

I was right at the back, perched awkwardly just to get into the session, and I could feel tears welling up. Not because it was sad. Because it was relieving. I wasn’t alone. I belonged in the room. I could keep going.

That’s what ‘story’ does when it works.

Let’s look at how most talks are built: 

We start with points.
Then more points.
Then data to support the points.
Then slides to explain the data.

At some stage, someone says, “It needs more heart.” And everyone agrees, briefly, before deciding, there’s no space left.

So the story goes.

When I work with clients, the first shift is simple but uncomfortable: fewer points, more story.

And ‘story’ doesn’t mean standing on stage and unpacking your entire life history. It means making the message human, reliable and personal. 

I worked with a client recently who was speaking on change management. She had solid content and a sensible structure.

When we talked about change, she mentioned reading We’re Going on a Bear Hunt to her son. That familiar line: You can’t go over it. You can’t go under it. You’ve got to go through it.

That became the opening.

“I was reading this story to my son the other night…” And suddenly the room was with her.

Same message. Completely different impact.

Because she didn’t start with theory. She started with something recognisable.

One of the most common objections I hear is, “I don’t have stories.” Or, “I don’t have time to be creative.” In reality, stories are everywhere. I encourage clients to keep what I call a story pot. 

Moments that land.
Customer experiences.
Things that make you stop and think: “That matters.”

That conference moment went straight into mine. Not because I knew when I’d use it, but because I knew I would.

‘Story’ can take different forms. A full personal story. A moment you’ve witnessed. A metaphor. An analogy. A visual description that puts people in the room with you.

Business talks, in particular, are rich with material if you know where to look. Case studies aren’t just proof. They’re stories. “We’ve done this many times” is fine. “There was this one client…” is better.

Your own life works too. Small moments. Forgetting your towel at the gym (I’ll tell you that one another time). A throwaway comment that keeps resurfacing. These things travel surprisingly well when you understand what they represent.

And then there’s culture. Films. Television. Books. Shared reference points.

When you want to elevate a talk, style matters. Sometimes we’ll look at a script and ask: What does this feel like? What’s the tone? The rhythm? What’s the world it belongs to?

You can even experiment with rewriting sections in the voice of a character. Not to perform an impression. To loosen the language. To find something more alive.

At the heart of all of this is a simple truth: the most compelling story wins.

Not the most information. Not the neatest structure.

So the next time you’re staring at a list of everything you think you need to say, pause. Brainstorm the stories instead. From your clients. From your week. From things you’ve watched or read that already carry the emotional weight you’re after.

Create a place to keep them. Add to it regularly. Don’t wait until you “need” a story.

Because when the pressure comes - and it always does - you won’t have to sacrifice the very thing that makes people care.