How to Start a Speech: A Repeatable Method for the First 90 Seconds
A repeatable method for the first 90 seconds of a talk: four openings that work, five to delete, and a fill-in-the-blank script you can rehearse tonight.
Most talks are lost before the speaker reaches the second slide. The room is not hostile, it is triaging: deciding inside the first minute whether to listen properly, answer email or slip out. I have opened badly and I have opened well, including twice on TEDx stages, and the difference was never charisma. It was a decision made in the writing, days before I walked on.
Why the first ninety seconds carry more weight than the next thirty minutes
Attention is not distributed evenly across a talk. Research on the serial position effect found that people recall the beginning and the end of a sequence far better than the middle, and that the two ends survive by different mechanisms: early material is rehearsed into longer-term memory, late material sits briefly in short-term memory and decays once you interrupt it. Glanzer and Cunitz showed this in 1966, and every speaker has felt it since. Your opening is the part of your talk with the best odds of still existing in someone's head next Tuesday.
Format has sharpened the problem. Bizzabo's 2026 event programme benchmarks report that 85% of sessions now run 60 minutes or shorter and 59% sit in the 30 to 60 minute band. In a 30 minute slot, ninety seconds is 5% of your time and a far larger share of your outcome. Organisers are booking shorter, denser sessions, and the speakers who get rebooked land immediately instead of warming up for four minutes.
An opening is not an introduction to your talk. It is a contract: here is the thing I will change about how you see this, and here is my evidence that I can.
Four openings that earn attention
I use four. Each one works because it gives the audience something to hold before it gives them anything to agree with.
1. The specific moment
Drop the room into a scene with a time, a place and a sensory detail. Not "I have worked with many founders who struggle to raise", but "It was 11.40 at night in Amsterdam and the founder on my screen had eleven days of cash left." Generalities invite evaluation, scenes invite attention.
Failure mode: the scene runs long and becomes a story about you. Cap it at four sentences and end on the question the moment raised.
2. The uncomfortable number
State one figure the audience half suspects but has never had put in front of them, then name its source out loud. One number, not three. A second number halves the weight of the first.
Failure mode: an unsourced statistic. If you cannot say where it came from in five words, cut it. A speaker caught inventing a figure loses the rest of the talk.
3. The question you refuse to answer yet
Ask something the room genuinely cannot answer, say plainly that you will answer it by the end, then move. This creates an open loop that carries people through the middle section where attention usually sags.
Failure mode: the rhetorical question that answers itself. "Who here wants to grow their business?" is not a question, it is filler, and the audience knows it.
4. The reframe
Name the belief the room walked in with, grant that it is reasonable, then show what it costs. "Most sellers think their pipeline problem is a volume problem. It is almost always a qualification problem, and volume makes it more expensive." This is the opening I use most on sales stages, and it pairs with the work I have written about on raising the qualification bar in outbound.
Failure mode: the reframe is a straw man. If nobody in the room actually holds the belief you are demolishing, you have opened by insulting them.
Five openings to delete
- The gratitude lap. "Thank you to the organisers, it is such an honour to be here." Say it privately, or from the stage at minute three, never at second zero.
- The apology. "I am a bit nervous", "my slides are not great", "I only had a week to prepare." You have just told the room your talk is not worth their attention, and they will believe you.
- The CV. Your biography was in the programme and the host just read it. Credibility comes from your first insight, not your titles.
- The housekeeping. Questions at the end, slides will be shared, can everyone hear me. Handle all of it after your opening has landed.
- The scene setting that sets no scene. Any sentence beginning "in today's world" can be deleted without loss. If a sentence would be equally true in 1994, it is not an opening.
A fill-in-the-blank opening you can write tonight
Five slots, roughly 180 to 200 words in total, which is about ninety seconds at a comfortable speaking pace.
- The hook (2 to 4 sentences): one of the four openings above.
- The stake (1 sentence): why this costs the people in this room something specific.
- The promise (1 sentence): what they will be able to do differently when you finish.
- The credential, earned not claimed (1 sentence): the one fact about you that makes the promise plausible here.
- The map (1 sentence): the three parts, named.
A worked example. Suppose you run a logistics company and you are speaking to operations leaders about pricing.
Hook: "Last March a client sent me their rate card. Fourteen tiers, nine exceptions, and two customers who had been paying below cost since 2023 without anyone noticing." Stake: "Complexity in pricing does not read as sophistication to your customers, it reads as risk, and it hides your worst accounts from you." Promise: "By the end of this you will know how to find those accounts in your own book, this week, with a spreadsheet." Credential: "I have rebuilt pricing in three markets and got it wrong in the first one." Map: "Three parts: how the hiding happens, how to find it, what to do on Monday."
Note the admission of failure in the credential slot. Competence claimed is discounted, competence paired with a cost you paid is believed.
How to rehearse the opening, and what to measure
Rehearse the opening separately from the talk, and far more often. The rest of a talk survives a wobble. The opening does not.
- Count the words. Most people speak 130 to 150 words a minute on stage, slower than in conversation. Past 220 words your opening is not ninety seconds, it is two and a half minutes.
- Twelve reps out loud, standing. Not read, said. Sitting and reading rehearses your eyes, not your mouth.
- Memorise the first and last sentence verbatim, improvise the middle. Full memorisation makes you brittle and it shows. Two fixed anchors give you a start you cannot fumble and a landing you cannot miss.
- Record one run and watch it with the sound off. You are checking that you are still for the first fifteen seconds. Movement reads as nerves.
- Test the hook on someone outside your industry. If they cannot repeat it back, the room will not hold it either.
The number worth watching over a season is rebooking. Applause measures your last thirty seconds. Organisers invite you back based on whether the room engaged, and that is set early. How that flows into fees is in my piece on how speakers actually get paid.
Adapt the opening without rewriting the talk
Same talk, different rooms, different first ninety seconds.
- A TEDx stage rewards the idea first and you second. Lead with the reframe or the question and keep yourself out of the opening almost entirely. If you are working towards a stage, the selection mechanics are in my piece on landing a TEDx talk.
- A sales or industry stage rewards the number and the stake, because the room is measuring whether you understand their economics. Get a figure they recognise into the first twenty seconds.
- A boardroom rewards the conclusion first. Open with your recommendation, then earn it backwards. The specific moment reads as theatre to people who want the decision.
I speak in English and in French, and I do not translate openings, I rewrite them. A hook carries assumptions that do not survive a direct translation, and an audience in Accra, Amsterdam or Austin will not find the same detail vivid. Write the hook for the room you are standing in.
The ten minutes before you walk on
Preparation is finished by then, so the only job left is to get your attention off yourself.
- Say the opening once, quietly, somewhere nobody can hear you.
- Walk the front of the room and pick the spot you will stand on for the first fifteen seconds.
- Talk to three people in the audience by name. It converts a crowd into people you have met.
- Stop reviewing your slides. Rereading in the last ten minutes changes nothing and raises your heart rate.
I pray before I speak. Not for a flawless delivery, but to put my attention on the people in the room instead of on my own performance, and to remember the platform is not mine to protect. Whatever grounds you, make sure it does that job, because self-consciousness is the single largest tax on an opening.
Your next action
Take your next talk and write the five slots above, out loud and timed, tonight. Cut it to 200 words, then say it twelve times standing up. You will know inside three reps whether the hook is real, and if it is not you found out in your kitchen rather than in front of 300 people. More in the public speaking library.