Lessons from losing ballots
The UCLA mock trial team lost a judge’s ballot by double digits.
In mock trial, judges score everything a team does out of 10 points. 10 for opening statements, closing arguments, directs, crosses, and witness portrayals. There are two judges in every round.
This year’s UCLA team is exceptionally good at convincing judges to give them high scores. They’re on an undefeated streak—first place at the UCLASSIC tournament, the Chicago championship, the regional championship, and now the national qualifying championship.
One of their most successful performances is the defense opening. It has beaten the plaintiff openings from rival teams on 16 out of 20 ballots. #17 was a tie. #18 and #19 were -1 losses.
Judge #20, the one we lost by double digits? We lost openings by 3.
The performance was basically the same as all the others, but the judge was not a fan of our case theory (it’s pretty aggressive) and delivery style (it’s quite dramatic). In the same round, we won the other judge’s ballot by 6 points.
This team has the potential to win nationals in a month. We want to take every ballot seriously. So what lessons should you learn from a double-digit loss?
First, keep giving the judges a clear choice.
This is what I tell students all the time. Dramatic movement, clear set pieces, being louder and slower than you think you have to be, having more fun—that defines your brand, all public speaking exercises are an exercise in on-the-spot branding.
If judges can detect a clear, intentional vibe, they can decide whether they like it or not. If you don’t give them a clear enough performance style for them to consider what you’re ‘going for,’ they might say, “That was nice,” but they’re not going to remember you. Ideally, if they don’t like you, they should blame one of your intentional choices instead of chiding you for NOT making a clear choice.
I think about a freshman student of mine who won a national championship in spontaneous speaking. She’s always the loudest in the room, tells intentionally self-deprecating jokes, and walks right up to audience members to create tense, awkward humor. Is it for everyone? No. But judges who get her sense of humor love it.
Don’t settle for mushy, middle-of-the-pack mediocrity. Offer your audience a clear choice.
Second, don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.
It would be easy to dismiss the judge’s ballot outright because it’s so out of step with all the other judges we’ve encountered. But we shouldn’t.
The judge wrote feedback for 14 different performances of ours in the round—14 more when you count our opponents’ ballots. Not every public speaking contest lets you see your opponents’ feedback. And there are some clear micro-adjustments we can make based on what the judge appreciated about them—from the volume in the room to the number of jokes our witnesses make. We shouldn’t throw out the style that has convinced dozens of other judges, but we also shouldn’t assume that EVERYTHING this judge says represents an outlier opinion.
As George R.R. Martin wrote, “Nothing someone says before the word 'but' really counts.” My goal is to pay a lot of attention to everything after “but,” synthesize comments about friction points in my speeches, and determine if they should be built up, watered down, or replaced entirely. Praise is nice, sure—but I’m focused on growth.
Don’t be overly defensive about your performances. Even if a point of critique is poorly phrased, imagine the most accurate and insightful version of it and weigh whether or not adjusting to it would dilute your message and brand.
Think about how:
- Dollar Shave Club went from some of their more witty, irreverent advertising to some calmer How-To videos (without losing their spunk)
- IKEA added ‘shortcuts’ to their maze-like design (without losing their layout)
- Nike kept adding nuance to their “Dream Crazy” campaign with Colin Kaepernick (without abandoning their decades of social justice messaging)
Offer your audience a clear choice, but never abandon kaizen (the culture of continuous improvement).
