The Voice Test

Or: why everyone understands that Morgan Freeman is the most powerful person on Earth

Cliff Watson
Works on Work
6 min readJun 18, 2013

--

“It is hard to hear the sound of your own voice. But that sound may affect other people’s impressions of you even more than what you say.” So starts Sue Shellenbarger’s Wall Street Journal article, “Is This How You Really Talk?

Part Barry White. Part Hee Haw.

I am keenly aware of my own voice. I have to be. Twenty years of Marlboros, Guinness and tequila enhanced a genetic baritone. Now my voice can penetrate multiple layers of drywall and glass, so that people a few offices down from mine know everything about my work and personal life. Even with a closed office door, I’ve unintentionally announced layoffs, promotions, new business wins and — much to the benefit of the office gossip mill — the details of my rather contentious divorce.

It’s physically impossible for me to talk at anything less than 70 decibels. My whisper is a low growl, like a wolf guarding fresh caribou — but a wolf with a slightly Southern accent. Any soothing, lyrical qualities of my voice are offset by a West Tennessee drawl-slash-mumble that’s showcased in polysyllabic words and words with long “I” sounds. My voice is the love child of Elvis Presley and Matt Beringer from The National.

It’s this dichotomy of soothing lower octave and shockingly accentuated Southern accent that initially defines me. Within seconds of meeting someone, I know whether or not my voice is working for or against me. The Southern thing is a huge hurdle for some people. It doesn’t instill a lot of confidence. As Jeff Foxworthy once said: “Nobody wants to hear their brain surgeon say: ‘A’ight, now. What we’re gonna do is saw the top of your head off, root around in there with a stick, and see if we can’t find that dad burn clot.’”

For those of you keeping score at home, that is the first and last time I will ever quote Jeff Foxworthy.

Wait. Say what?

So, yes. I am aware of my own voice, and that makes me aware of everyone else’s. That’s why I took an interest in Shellenbarger’s article about the findings of a research company that quantified the importance of voices in forming initial opinions of the speaker.

Quantified Impressions, the company that undertook the voice research, played speeches from American executives to 1000 people and then asked questions about the impact the voices had on the listeners. The passion, knowledge and presence of the speakers all swayed listeners. As you might expect, though, the content of the speeches ranked higher in importance. But that wasn’t the most influential thing.

The speaker’s voice quality was more important than the content the speaker delivered. And not just a little. It was more than twice as important. Content was 11% of an impression. Voice quality was 23% of the impression.

Can’t believe it? Stick around for a second. I’ll prove it.

Before I do, however, I have to say that there is one group of people who’ve always understood the importance of a voice — advertisers.

Commercial voiceover is a huge business. In an admittedly short google search, I wasn’t able to find numbers on how much that industry is worth on an annual basis. That said, it wouldn’t take too many celebrity VO contracts to climb north of $100 million, and there are hundreds — if not thousands — of people out there making a living off of their voice every year. And not just in commercials. Video games, audio books, cartoons and movies all pay voiceover talent pretty well.

Honestly, they probably could have recorded it in Pig Latin.

Let’s just talk about commercials for a second, though. Specifically, let’s talk about Chrysler’s 2011 Super Bowl spot for the Chrysler 200. Eminem was a supporting actor, but it starred the city of Detroit. Whether you remember it or not, click that link and go watch it now.

No. Seriously. This won’t work if you don’t watch it first. Go ahead.

Really. I’ll wait.

Okay. Pretty damn great, right? It blew me away when I saw it during the game. It blew me away the five or six times that I watched it on YouTube the next day. I was a creative director in advertising at the time, and it was everything I’d tried to encapsulate into a television spot for years.

Then I got the chance. Kind of.

I was asked by a client to replicate the feel of that spot. I would wager everything I own that more than 75% of advertising creative directors in America were asked to do the same thing within a year of that commercial’s initial debut. That’s how much impact it had on most Americans — especially Chief Marketing Officers of large companies across the country.

While the project that fell into my lap after that spot didn’t have a gazillion-dollar budget or Eminem or the backdrop of Detroit, it needed to have the emotional resonance of Chrysler’s “Imported from Detroit.” That meant I had to work to find why that spot worked its way so deeply into the American consciousness so quickly. And that meant watching and analyzing that spot dozens of times.

So I transcribed the script. And that’s when it hit me: that amazing voiceover (who happens to be a Detroit native) wasn’t telling much of a story. I mean, he was telling one hell of a story. But the story wasn’t linear or cohesive or really all that coherent. There was some amazing phrasing, some beautiful writing, some lyrical imagery. But there wasn’t a lot of glue holding it together. The point of the spot comes from the tone. Not from the words. Read the voiceover yourself.

VO: I got a question for you. What does this city know about luxury? Huh? What does a town that’s been to hell and back know about the finer things in life? Well, I’ll tell you. More than most. You see, it’s the hottest fires that make the hardest steel.

Add hard work and conviction and the know-how that runs generations deep in every one of us. That’s who we are. That’s our story. Now it’s probably not the one you’ve been reading about in the papers, the ones written by folks who’ve never even been here, who don’t know what we’re capable of. Because when it comes to luxury, it’s as much about where it’s from as who it’s for.

Now we’re from America. But this isn’t New York City. Or the Windy City. Or Sin City. And we’re certainly no one’s Emerald City.

[Eminem drives up to the Fox Theater. He exits his car. He walks into the theater, then walks down the aisle and onto the stage with the choir.]

Eminem: This is the Motor City. And this is what we do.

Super: The Chrysler 200 has arrived.

Title: Imported from Detroit.

The first thing the voiceover does is ask a question that should set up the rest of the commercial (“What does this city know about luxury?”). The last thing the voiceover does is ever come close to answering that question directly. It’s more than a bit nonsensical without the context of a voice, specifically the voice that delivered the script with such impact in the actual commercial.

This isn’t a jab at the writer or writers who penned the spot. Not at all. Their script, their choice in voice talent, their input on the spot’s editing — it all added up to arguably the most memorable commercial this century. When it comes to storytelling (one of our industry’s favorite buzzwords for the past several years), they told one of the greatest stories in advertising history, a story that made a significant mark on Chrysler’s brand and its sales.

But Chrysler’s sales make very little difference on the rest of our lives. Voices do, however.

Listen to the voice inside your head about the voices outside of it.

People and their voices exert an influence on us every day. In advertising. In politics. In business. In love.

Next time you’re swayed and persuaded, stop for a moment and think about the content of what was said, not just who said it — unless you happen to be a couple of offices down from me. If you hear something that sounds like Elvis with a sinus infection, just do whatever he says.

[If you’re interested in reading more about what I found in analyzing “Imported from Detroit,” you can find it in the companion piece to this, “ Notes on an Emotional Masterpiece, Or: why ‘Imported from Detroit’ is the most memorable TV spot of the 21st century.”]

--

--