The panelists have talked out the controversial bits among themselves in preparing and by the time they reach the event, they’ve lost their edge with one another. Perhaps overprepared, but certainly the novelty of the differences among them is gone, and at the actual event they’re ready to acknowledge the others’ positions without voicing the objections they started out so firmly attached to.

In this setup, there are two moderators and say, 4-6 panelists.
- The moderators share one mike and one laptop
- The panelists do not have microphones, but all have their own laptops
- Every panelist is connected to a collaborative, real-time text editing tool (EtherPad or SubEthaEdit or whatnot)

One moderator begins by introducing the panel aloud and giving bios on each of the people; the other distributes some pre-prepared questions via the editor to all of the panelists. They can then start typing answers to whatever questions they want.

Moderators take turns asking the audience for questions and typing them in, and selecting and reading the responses aloud. It’s essential that there are two moderators so that each one can have a chance to read a passage silently a few times so they don’t stumble over the words.

This idea would address the most of the problems you mention, and make for a really interesting experience. Feel free to try it!

@robbyslaughter

We did introduce polarity into the panel discussion stating clear questions and taken different stands and we did get audience participation, but I don’t think we provoked the audience quite enough.

This guarantees some value. In my experience, however, not everyone can assess what an audience needs to know so it doesn’t always work out.

I believe that panels are chosen by conference coordinators because they seem, on the surface, to be an easy way to get more powerhouse presenters on the program without increasing the amount of time at the venue. Four panelists in 90 minutes is cheaper than four 60-minute presentations. After all, what’s not to like: put smart people in front of the audience and it all just works, right? Nope.

In my experience, planning a great panel is a lot more risky and, to do well, takes a lot more time. The IxDA Interactions09 panel I did, which lasted for exactly 1 hour, took about 12 hours of preparation and work of my time, plus another 2-3 hours of each of the six panelists. So, we’re talking about 30 hours of work total.

Since you asked me on the Twitter, here are a few of thoughts I have about crafting a great panel:

I think the best panels have a strong narrative. A story that takes the audience member through the discussion. Each panelist and the moderator (!) is a character in that story and plays a role.

Someone has to craft that story going in. I think panelists and the moderator should be cast into the panel. (When I put together the panel at the IxDA Interactions09 conference, I actually auditioned a couple of the panelists.)

When I craft a panel, I try to eliminate opening statements altogether. Instead, I let the moderator use the opening minutes to introduce the characters and their points of view. I use a variant of Henning’s interview technique to do that. In other words, the moderator will interview each panelist conversationally to extract their opening positions. This has the nice effect of keeping things condensed and on point, since the moderator & panelist know exactly what they need to say to progress the story.

I’ve also found that the best panels get audience interaction early. My goal is to have audience members interacting with (some) panelists within 15 minutes. I typically do this by introducing one panelist, interview them for 4-6 minutes, then introduce a different panelist, interview them for 2-3 minutes, then go back to the first panelist for a reaction to the second panelist’s statements, then open up for audience questions. The subsequent panelists are introduced slowly, with more audience interaction for each.

As part of their characters, I usually assign the panelists specific roles. I cast them because they are well versed in the issues and have good examples and experience to balance out the topics. I also choose them for great stage presence.

For example, when I assign the roles, I might insist they play the extremes, because the story I’ve chosen is one about exploring the boundaries of an issue. Each panelist isn’t to approach the topic with a moderate viewpoint, conceding the other point of view. Instead, they are to argue their point voraciously, adopting a strong my-way-is-the-only-way tenor. This is more than your suggesting of getting opposing viewpoints—this is playing a character that has strong opposition.

Ideally, in this example, I’d be aiming for each audience member to be taking sides, then finding themselves conflicted by the side they took. I want the audience to play “perspective ping pong”, feeling the need to flip back and forth, because as they hear each subsequent argument, they find themselves agreeing, despite their original objections.

I even pay close attention to little details, like seating arrangements and mics. I remove any tables or obstructions between the panelists and the audience. I sit the panelists in a specific order, to help tell the story. (For example, when we’re debating opposing views, I’ll sit the extremes at the extreme sides.) I like the panelists in comfy chairs or director’s chairs, in a semi-circle, so they can see and react to each other. I’ll put the moderator in the audience, Donahue-style.

And I’ll make sure everyone has their own mic. No better way to kill the energy in a panel than to have to share mics.

All in all, it’s about creating a great experience for the audience, like every presentation is. And great experiences don’t happen by accident. They are carefully designed and crafted.

At least, that’s my thinking…

Jared