Today I watched a group of Japanese high school students give speeches in English.

This is especially impressive because, according to an oft cited, and in some cases replicated survey in the 1977 edition of the Book of Lists, the number one fear people have is speaking before a group. This fear beats out insects, sickness and death. Jerry Seinfeld said “This means, for the average person, if you have to go to a funeral, you’re better off in the casket than giving the eulogy.”

Oddly, I’ve never had this fear. I’ve been nervous before a speech, but I’ve never been afraid of speaking before a group. (Speaking to people one on one, though, is closer to number one for me and fodder for another post.)

I vaguely remember acting as narrator for a Christmas production in early elementary school and doing various reading bits in church. I’ve given speeches before businessmen and Air Force personnel and even dabbled in acting. I’m pretty good at extemporaneous speaking and can, on occasion, make funny jokes. I don’t remember ever being afraid.

That said, I do understand the fear. I’ve become nervous during speeches when a joke failed or I wasn’t getting any response. In such cases I lose my rhythm and intonation and become more reliant on notes than I should be.

I gave one such speech last December to a group of junior high students who’d just finished watching the school’s annual English speech contest. It was an off-the-cuff speech so I started with a joke that I’d used on other occasions about knowing how much they love giving speeches. This time, though, the line got zero reaction. Then rather than just saying “Good job everybody. See you next year.” and running for cover, I made the terrible mistake of trying to save the speech, forgetting that 97% of the audience couldn’t understand a word I was saying and the other 3% couldn’t have cared less that I was saying anything. That just made matters worse. Eventually I was dragged away by a team of men armed with chains and a large hook.

There was no use defending the speech and since then I’ve happily participated in the joke about how bad it was, while secretly hoping it means I never have to give another speech like that again. (Hey, I said I was good at it; I didn’t say I liked doing it.)

That, though, hints at why I think people fear public speaking more than death. If you die, all your problems are finished one way or another. If you give a bad speech, you hear about it for a very long time and get to relive it a few more times.