I think everyone should start their information technology careers as helpdesk analysts, supporting 14.4 modems, on Windows 3.1 workstations. It helps you discover your tolerance for apathy early in your career…Trumpet Winsock anyone?

I’m often accused of being overly critical of the talks that I give. Labeled as a perfectionist by colleagues, in addition to ‘crazy’ by friends and family, I often walk away from a presentation thinking that I could have done better. Perhaps I am a perfectionist, crazy, or maybe I’m just human (the jury was out on that last one). A lot of my colleagues relate giving a talk to sitting for an exam. Walking out you often know if you nailed it or if you failed miserably. Unlike an exam, however, the success of your talk is generally written on the faces in the crowd. Attentive, interactive, and boisterous participation is a sure fire indicator that things are going in your favor. This energy is something that the presenter can feed on to fuel his or her own motivation, thus making the presentation flow positively. On the flip side, listless, bored, and disinterested participants tend to suck the life out of the presenter and the presentation.

Sometimes there are situations that completely throw you for a loop. You know you’ve prepared, triple-checked your facts, and practiced at great lengths, but you still have a sense of foreboding in the pit of your stomach. Unfortunately, for me, the aforementioned scenario is how I often feel post-talk (and exam). Some would say it’s a confidence issue, others might say that I’m simply stuck in my own head. It’s entirely possible that both are correct but perhaps it’s also my own little slice of the OCD pie? (note to self: bounce this self-flagellating diagnosis by Bill Brenner next time I talk with him). Regardless of the reasoning behind it, as it is my cross to bear, I am, however, able to identify the key indicators that a presentation was worthwhile.

1. The talk encourages audience members to ask questions
2. Someone talks, either via social media or in person by coming up and shaking my hand, about how great the talk was, how well I communicated my points, or how much they learned as a result of it
3. The talk becomes a catalyst for further discussion, either immediately after the session, follow-up calls/emails, or even face-to-face at another event months after the initial presentation.
4. I’m asked to do the talk again

Ultimately, if at least one person approaches me to tell me that they learned something or that it was a great presentation, I’ve accomplished what I set out to achieve. Not only does it make me feel like I’ve contributed to something bigger than myself (no fat jokes please), but it makes me feel like my preparation and time away from my family was worth it. Keep the speaking opportunities coming folks…I’ll figure out the secret sauce at some point 😉

When you say you’re good at something, people usually don’t jump all over you. When you say that you’re “The Worlds Number 1” something, however, you’re just asking to draw criticism from your peers. LIGATT Security International CEO Gregory Evans, arguably one of the best self-pitchmen since Muhammad Ali, claims to be “The World’s No. 1 Hacker” and has written a book telling others how to get to his level. Entitled “How To Become The Worlds No. 1 Hacker” (I’m not linking to it), the book has drawn voracious criticism from the security industry who have labeled it self-serving propaganda and plagiarism. I have not personally read the book but I trust the research skills and opinions of my peers in the industry who have splattered the big “DO NOT BUY” label across its cover.

While some would simply shrug off this attack, Evans has chosen to go on the offensive. Using videos, podcasts, and social media, Evans has attacked his critics and attempted to reinforce his label by denying everything and attacking his attackers like a brawler. The problem with fighting like a brawler is that you typically wear yourself out fairly quick in the hopes of knocking your opponent out as quickly as possible. Their slowness and predictable punching patterns (single punches with obvious leads) often leaves them open for counterpunching, as noted by Wikipedia. The industry is certainly counterpunching and, based on the score cards thus far, is winning.

If Evans is going to trash talk like Ali, he should be fighting like Ali and leveraging a rope-a-dope strategy. From Wikipedia, the rope-a-dope is performed by a boxer assuming a protected stance, in Ali’s classic pose, lying against the ropes, and allowing his opponent to hit him, in the hope that the opponent will become tired and make mistakes which the boxer can exploit in a counterattack. If Evans were smart, he’d simply take the criticism, move on for now, and look for a future opportunity to prove himself. Instead he’s trying to knock out everyone he sees which will inevitably hurt him. Professional boxers have to fight one person at a time and would likely fair poorly against a thousand or so opponents at a time.

Sometimes it’s just better to ignore the noise permanently and take a more humble stance. Don’t say you’re the best…just prove to people that you’re good at something through your work and commitment to solving problems. I would never be so arrogant to say that I’m “the best” at anything. Hell, my friends and colleagues wouldn’t let me. Keeping your ego in check is something that responsible adults are supposed to be able to do.

Finally, always remember that you can’t win every fight. Even Ali got knocked out by Holmes in 1980. Sometimes you need to see the writing on the wall that it’s time to move on.