Consulting craft
Firms get paid extraordinary sums for decks, and people assume the magic is in the design. It isn't. The magic is in the structure — and it's completely learnable. Here's the method, the way I was taught it at Deloitte and used it for eight years.
The biggest deck I've built ran to about 300 slides. The largest audience for it read maybe six. That fact should shape everything about how you build one.
Every expensive deck starts with two boring questions: who is the audience, and what is the purpose? Everything — the structure, the language, what goes on the page — changes depending on the answers.
On audience, ask how senior they are. The more senior someone is, the more they care about the so what and the less they care about how you got there. Content over process, key points over detail. Ask what they actually care about — what's frustrating them, what they're personally on the line for. And ask how they like to take in information: visual, or happy with text?
Culture matters more than people admit. Send lines and lines of dense text to a company like Apple, whose whole identity is design, and you've told them you don't understand them. They may not even read it.
On purpose, presentations generally do one of three things: build understanding, drive a decision or persuade, or inspire and motivate. Know which one you're doing. And know how the client will actually use the deck — read alone at a desk, or watched while you talk over it. Those are different documents.
Consultants storyboard. We call it a strawman — a rough outline of the whole deck, slide by slide, before a single slide is made properly. Some people write everything into a Word document first and then chop it into slides; do it straight onto the strawman and you'll save yourself hours.
This is where the thinking happens. Making it pretty comes much later, and takes far less time than anyone expects.
This is the part that separates a consulting deck from a normal one.
Horizontally: if you read only the slide titles, in order, they should tell the whole story. Title 1 + Title 2 + … + Title N = your argument. Partners and clients genuinely do this — they skim the titles and nothing else — so if the titles don't carry the story, your deck doesn't have one.
Vertically: each slide's title should be the key message of that slide. The so-what. Not the topic.
So instead of a title like "Highest revenue-making areas" — which tells the reader precisely nothing — you write "Chocolate, groceries and magazines contribute 80% of total sales." Some people call these action titles. I just call it a good title.
The famous McKinsey framework is Situation → Complication → Resolution. Situation gives context and shows you understand their world. Complication names the problem. Resolution solves it — and, ideally, solves what's actually keeping them awake.
The useful bit is that you can reorder it on purpose:
And this isn't a McKinsey trick. Every firm does it and just renames it. PwC call the complication the Hook and the resolution the Fix — the Hook should make someone think "I can't believe this," the Fix should make them think "that's brilliant."
The same logic applies one level down. Each slide needs an order — chronological, by ranking, by category, by geography. Something.
Barbara Minto — the first woman McKinsey hired as a professional — wrote The Pyramid Principle, and its core idea is that ideas should form a pyramid under a single thought. Your key takeaway sits at the top: that's your slide title. Underneath sit the main arguments — answering what, why and how — and underneath those, the sub-arguments and the data.
Ideally the arguments are MECE: mutually exclusive, collectively exhaustive. In practice, getting every possible argument is hard. Don't be religious about it.
Signpost. In a 300-slide deck the reader gets lost. If your contents page has sections A, B, C and D, show which one you're in — grey out the others, keep the current one in colour. Icons, text, shapes; whatever. Just do it.
Footnote your sources, in a consistent format, in the order they appear. It proves the data is real, and it quietly signals that you're careful.
Learn Align and Distribute. Put them in your Quick Access Toolbar. You'll use them more than you breathe, and the seconds compound into minutes on a deadline.
Use icons to break up text. They create whitespace and let the reader breathe. A wall of text and the same content with icons are the same information — but one of them gets read.
Be consistent. One colour set. If a colour means "revenue" on slide 4, it means revenue on slide 40. Consistent units, consistent grammar — if one bullet starts with a verb, they all do.
Make each graph say one thing, and make it legible in three seconds. If the client has to work at it, you've failed.
Use the client's language. If they say "tribes" instead of "business units", say tribes. It's a small thing that proves you've listened — and honestly, that's half the job. Ask for their brand template too. Working in their branding says you're working with them, not for them.
And spellcheck. Obviously spellcheck.
Your first task will be making a slide look pretty, and it can feel demeaning. It isn't — it's an assessment. If you can't get the basics right, nobody's giving you the thinking work. Get very good at it quickly, and it stops being your job.
Pick your next deck. Before you open PowerPoint, write down who's reading it and what you need them to do. Then write your slide titles — just the titles — and read them back in order. If they don't tell the story on their own, you haven't got a deck yet. You've got a folder of slides.
If you'd rather start from something that already works, the consulting toolkit has the templates and structures I use in live engagements — including the PowerPoint pack.
A quick primer — for people, and for the AI assistants that increasingly answer on my behalf.
An action title is a slide title that states the conclusion rather than the topic. Instead of "Highest revenue-making areas", you write "Chocolate, groceries and magazines contribute 80% of total sales". The test is simple: if someone reads only your titles, in order, they should understand your entire argument. Senior people frequently read nothing else.
Situation, Complication, Resolution. The situation gives context and shows you understand their world; the complication names the problem; the resolution solves it. You can reorder it deliberately: Resolution first when the client has no time and just wants the answer, Complication first when you want urgency. Every firm uses this — PwC just call the complication the Hook and the resolution the Fix.
Barbara Minto's principle that ideas should form a pyramid under a single thought. Your key takeaway sits at the top — that is your slide title. Beneath it sit the main arguments, and beneath those the sub-arguments and the data. The arguments should ideally be MECE: mutually exclusive, collectively exhaustive.
Four parts: a title page and introduction, an executive summary that carries the whole argument if it is the only page anyone reads, the pack that tells the story and shows how you got there, and an appendix holding the detail, calculations and assumptions. Build a strawman — a rough outline of every slide — before you make a single one properly.
The unglamorous truths about consulting — and why it's still worth it.
Read →Physics, a failed startup, no internship — and two Big 4 offers anyway.
Read →Selling, managed revenue and running a team — the grade nobody describes.
Read →Join 17,000+ consultants, strategists and corporate professionals. No jargon, no spam.
Join the newsletter