I recently trained a highly intelligent, successful CEO who has been running a start-up that is just one or two brainstorms away from being a hit. This man is educated and passionate about his enterprise. He’s committed to it and to giving back if he strikes gold. He’s a mensch.

The only thing he can’t seem to do is talk about his baby in a way that doesn’t sound like a canned sales pitch.

Before our session, he told me that he’s read books on presenting and has mastered the techniques He has learned to look people in the eye. When he gives a speech people in the room tell him that they feel as though he’s speaking directly to them.

So why, when he began to describe his project, did his energy drain and his delivery go flat?

If he was such a master presenter, why did he sound canned and generic?

I mentioned this within five minutes of working together and he agreed with my assessment. A look of relief washed over his face as he confesses that his biz dev guys have been hammering the anodyne language of an elevator pitch into him. They rehearsed him and sucked everything personal, quirky, and remotely human out of his presentation. So much so, he said, that the company he was describing in his pitch didn’t feel like his company anymore.

I could relate. Back in the days when I was running magazines I had the same type of coaching. By the time it was over I felt like a mouthpiece for some weird corporate entity. I listened to the advice, took it to heart, and was delivering the most boring presentations imaginable. I didn’t feel like my passion or intelligence, or authenticity were coming through.

Today, in an ever-increasingly corporatized world, where language and passion are often as secondary to excel sheets and pitch decks, it’s crucial to convey to investors, your board–any audience–exactly why you’re putting in 16 hour days. As a listener, I need to hear that passion. Yes, it’s helped by active, vivid language and gripping stories, but rather than asking my clients to memorize a script or “key talking points,” I help them to reveal their passion, not rehearse lines about it.

I try not to use a script at all

Sometimes scripts are necessary, but I have found other methods of coaching to more effective—methods that reveal your communication style to you and give you tools that you can use in different situations. I aim to arm my clients with an arsenal of points and stories that they can deploy depending on the situation. I want them to know they have choices, not just a script that they have to follow.

The most successful coaches help you recognize your own communication style with all of its nuances and help you to work with it, not against it, so that you are comfortable in the hot seat. They help you to overcome roadblocks or difficult questions in a natural way that complements your style without imposing a false set of rules.

Oh, and by the way, the presentation went extremely well. It moved him a notch higher on the venture capital ladder. His thank you note said: “your coaching gave me the confidence I needed.” What more could any coach ask for?