PowerPoint presentations hinder collective intelligence by rigidifying exchanges—this is well-known and documented—yet they remain almost unavoidable. Here are some avenues for understanding and action to make collective exchanges more useful.
Many important meetings have been structured for over 35 years now with the help of a tool: Microsoft’s PowerPoint software, which has inspired many imitators. Clones can be found from other publishers, including in the open-source domain, with LibreOffice Impress, for example.
What I propose to question here, in order to offer paths for improvement, is not specifically a tool—PowerPoint—but rather the way it is used in the context of collective exchanges, and the major problems, it seems to me, that this usage creates for collective intelligence. The PowerPoint presentation has many flaws: it diminishes the collective intelligence capabilities of the assembled group and significantly affects the usefulness of the meetings and other events it helps structure. This is regularly discussed and documented, and I would like to make a constructive contribution to reinvesting the function of speech in human groups.
For critical references on PowerPoint, I recommend the book The PowerPoint Thought: An Investigation into This Software That Makes You Stupid by Frank Frommer (2010), the various publications by statistician Edward Tufte, several U.S. Army generals (James Mattis or Herbert Raymond McMaster, who have spoken publicly on the subject), and, more recently, Patrice Bessac, the mayor of Montreuil-sous-Bois, in a radio interview. The Wikipedia page on PowerPoint is quite enlightening and should, in my opinion, be read by those who use PowerPoint thinking they are doing the right thing.
Edward Tufte even goes so far as to blame the mode of thinking and interactions produced by PowerPoint presentations as one of the main reasons that led to the in-flight disintegration of the space shuttle Columbia on February 1, 2003. The mayor of Montreuil-sous-Bois, Patrice Bessac, has gone as far as outright banning PowerPoint presentations in meetings to make them efficient, productive, and sources of collective intelligence again—rather than boredom, rigid thinking, and stagnation.
But then why do we still so widely continue to use PowerPoint? There are the usual explanations, and I will add a new one.
What is usually said is that PowerPoint presentations are extremely reassuring. They structure the presentation to follow. But in truth, they are only reassuring for the speaker. Those listening are reassured by a speaker who does their job well—PowerPoint or not. But the habit of seeing PowerPoints is so ingrained that, indeed, a meeting without PowerPoint may not seem like a “real” meeting—not serious, structured, efficient, or professional...
And of course, there are a thousand ways to use PowerPoint. Those who use it for Pecha Kucha presentations (6 minutes and 40 seconds during which 20 images are displayed for 20 seconds each, with no text on the slides, serving as a support for a varied, lively, and surprising presentation on a topic) tend to be extremely dynamic.
Some people—and this is obviously the worst—write everything on the PowerPoint. There are long lists, documents, and during the meeting, they simply read what’s displayed on the screen. It’s almost idiotic because the people in the room know how to read! What’s the point of speech if it just repeats what we can already read for ourselves?
Then, for most slightly more reasonable uses, thanks to the PowerPoint document, we see the main documents and information on the screen, a structure for advancing the reasoning, and the speaker uses it as a support for speech that goes far beyond what is shown on the screen.
The first serious problem with this, before I get to my new contribution on the subject, is the reduction of possible interactions with the audience. Because the PowerPoint presentation is pre-made, the audience has very little room to express themselves. Yet their input could steer the subject toward something more important, more interesting, since it’s a meeting—a collective construction.
I’m talking about the PowerPoint presentation in the context of an exchange between human beings. Sending a PDF file, like sending an article or a book for people to review individually, and creating these documents with PowerPoint—why not? In this case, PowerPoint allows for easily creating visually appealing documents and offers them for reading, which is perfectly fine. The problem lies in using this rigid logic of writing for a moment when people have been brought together. If we gather people, it’s precisely so they can interact and create something greater together than what came from one person alone. Otherwise, we might as well just send documents, not meet, and then exchange comments—or read the materials beforehand and gather only to discuss them.
The well-identified problem with PowerPoint presentations is the reduction of potential for exchange and cooperation in the moment. Now, if it’s a lecture-style presentation for thousands of people, interaction isn’t possible—and in that case, fine. But the issue is that, in small groups, we’re using a method that’s efficient for large, interaction-less gatherings. Thus, the PowerPoint presentation takes on a symbolic aura, associated with the fact that “big” meetings are done with PowerPoint. And we apply the same methods to our “small” meetings to give them an air of seriousness, professionalism, as if they were “big” ones! That’s the mistake: not considering the context—a real lack of self-confidence. And above all, in doing so, we shut the door to the potential for mutual enrichment, which is the best thing we can hope for from a meeting.
And why is this so boring? Because using a PowerPoint presentation for 6 minutes and 40 seconds, or for a short talk in front of a huge audience, or for a 12-minute TED talk as a support for speech, works very well. But for a two-hour meeting or a two-day training session… without realizing it, thinking we’re adding value, we’re actually perverting the essence of it.
What I want to highlight—something I haven’t seen in critiques of PowerPoint presentations so far—is the fact that, though we’re well aware of it, PowerPoint actually serves two functions, and this is a major flaw:
Thus, thanks to PowerPoint, we convince ourselves we’re being highly efficient and professional, killing two birds with one stone!
We prepare the meeting, we outline its progression—sometimes, people who want it to be interactive even include slides in their PowerPoint that say: “Ten minutes of open discussion.” It’s written in the PowerPoint. So, despite the PowerPoint, they try to create moments of interaction. This makes them feel serious, professional, and legitimate—all the more so because the PowerPoint serves as tangible proof that the meeting happened and of what took place in it. It validates that we really worked, since we have the content in the presentation, what we call the “deliverable.”
Indeed, having written documentation after a meeting is useful for sharing and building on what comes next. As the saying goes, “Words fly away, writings remain.” But the real problem is that this particular document was created before the meeting.
PowerPoint eliminates the need to write meeting minutes. It both structures the meeting itself and serves as its record. But what this creates is a meeting that was, quite simply, useless as a meeting! I’m not saying the information in the PowerPoint or the speaker’s remarks was useless—it may have been entirely important and valuable. But why hold a meeting if no one could contribute anything beyond it? And if something did happen beyond the slides, we have no record of it, because only the original PowerPoint remains.
So, we have a meeting prepared using a PowerPoint, run using a PowerPoint, and whose only trace is that same pre-existing PowerPoint. But what was transformed thanks to the presence of all those people in the room? There, we have absolutely no record. This is a serious problem, because things must have happened during that meeting that could have added great value—which was the whole point.
This was the crux of Edward Tufte’s critique of the investigation following the launch of Columbia on January 16, 2003. PowerPoint after PowerPoint, by simplifying thought, ended up obscuring the real issue—details that emerged during the meetings were lost because they weren’t captured in the “simplified flow of thought” imposed by the presentations. Information about the cause of the impending disaster was known and documented but wasn’t accounted for in the presentations. As a result, the problem went unaddressed, and upon re-entry into the atmosphere 15 days later, on February 1, 2003, the space shuttle disintegrated mid-flight.
So, PowerPoint reassures—and above all, it tries to suppress the power of speech, the transformative power of speech, which is always frightening yet is precisely what allows us to change the world. And if we gather, it’s to be collectively useful, to advance the subject we’re working on together. It’s not just to validate what the person who wrote the PowerPoint assumed—otherwise, why were we even there?
I propose that speech rise up against PowerPoint presentations! Organizing dialogue among human beings is obviously far more difficult, complicated, risky, adventurous, creative, productive, and transformative than simply preparing a PowerPoint presentation—which, by the way, can take a lot of time but isn’t real work. Making room for speech actually requires much more effort than creating a PowerPoint, because we let go of the illusion of control (often mistaken for competence) and risk the meeting spiraling in all directions, potentially yielding nothing.
Indeed, it’s far harder to prepare, facilitate, and summarize a meeting without PowerPoint—one where everyone has a role as a contributor, even if some contribute more than others. But if we embark on this unsettling adventure, we’ll have to work harder. We’ll feel on edge, exposed. We’ll need to invent interactive frameworks. We’ll have to find ways to synthesize ideas, forging common ground from the dissenting thoughts of all participants. We’ll need to manage speaking time.
Yet if we embrace this level of rigor, we might hold fewer meetings—but each one will be far, far more prepared than with PowerPoint, even if it doesn’t appear so, since there’s no pre-packaged deliverable. Our preparatory work might consist of scattered notes, intentions, or organizational ideas we adjust on the fly based on how things unfold. It may seem less “professional” than a PowerPoint, but it’s anything but! And so, each meeting could truly become a moment of meaningful transformation, thanks to the immense power of speech—if it’s given space and structure. PowerPoints, often unintentionally, muzzle that power.
Here’s a small trick I use often, with great success: while people are talking, I take live notes on-screen, using mind maps, capturing every contribution. This provides a flexible structure for the meeting, built by the participants themselves. We open the floor to everyone’s input while simultaneously displaying the evolving discussion, allowing the group to see collective thinking take shape—and intervene, request edits, or refine ideas.
Ideally, use two screens: one for live notes and another to display documents (which can still be essential). The visibility of shared note-taking turns it into a real-time synthesis, co-created by all as they watch it unfold. I also strongly prefer prepared documents—images, for example, numbered if needed—sent one after another. It’s easy to jump around the list, reorder, or pull up another if the discussion demands it. With PowerPoint, people often end up scrambling backward and forward through slides—trapped by pre-formatting. But with documents in a folder (displayed as thumbnails), we can follow the planned sequence or deviate freely. We remain agile.
In the context of businesses, as well as in associative, social, artistic, cultural mediation, cultural action, initial or professional training, and social action settings, mobilizing the collective intelligence of participants is a very powerful lever. It enables mutual enrichment, improved relationships, stronger cohesion, the emergence of ideas, the invention of projects, greater engagement, and more.
Collective intelligence tools are also powerful democratic tools. They have been largely developed within the field of popular education, where the contribution of each individual is valued far more than in the national education system, which, in France, unfortunately often remains too traditional in its approaches.
I have frequently participated in collective intelligence workshops, and I have facilitated, applied, refined, adapted, and even invented a number of them. Here, you will find a collection of tools that I have personally used, which are integrated into the methods I propose, supported by real-life use cases. I believe these tools are highly worth sharing, as I have seen so many beneficial effects from them! I often find myself thinking, during collective moments such as conferences, for example: it’s a shame to limit ourselves to passive listening—all these minds gathered together could, if mobilized more effectively, produce something greater collectively.