A deck has a job: to be understood while someone scans it. Here is the slide order that works, what goes on each one, and why the design is the least of your problems.
Twelve slides, in this order: what the problem is, who has it, what you do about it, why it works, how big the opportunity is, what you have proved so far, how the money is made, who else is doing it, who you are, what the numbers look like, what you are asking for, and how to reach you.
That order is not a style choice. It is the sequence in which a reader's questions arrive, and answering them out of order means each slide is read while they are still thinking about the previous one.
They scan it. Investors, committees, clients, boards — all of them, and quickly.
That single fact should shape everything. If the point of a slide is not obvious in about five seconds, it did not land. And if the deck requires you to be in the room to make sense of it, it will fail the moment it is forwarded to somebody who was not there — which is exactly what happens to every deck that gets anywhere.
So: one idea per slide. The headline states the idea rather than labelling the topic — "Contractors lose a fifth of every job to unbilled hours" instead of "Market Problem". The reader who only reads headlines should still get the argument.
Everything else on the slide supports the headline or comes off.
Problem. A specific pain, for specific people, ideally with one hard number. Not an industry trend — a thing that hurts somebody on a Tuesday.
Who has it. Who they are and how many of them there are. Vague audiences read as "we have not asked anybody".
Solution. What you do, in plain words. If it takes more than two sentences, the deck is not the problem.
Why it works. The reason you can do this and others cannot. A method, a piece of technology, an unusual amount of experience in the domain.
Market. Realistic and defensible. A vast headline number impresses nobody who has seen a hundred decks; the segment you can actually reach is more convincing than the fantasy total.
Traction. Whatever you have. Users, revenue, pilots, waiting list, letters of intent. If you have very little, say so plainly — that is far better received than a chart with no axis labels.
Business model. What you charge, who pays, how often. One slide.
Competition. Name them honestly, including the ones that are good. "We have no competitors" reads as "we have not looked", and it is the fastest way to lose a room.
Team. Who you are and why this problem in particular. Relevant experience only.
Financials. Where you are and where you expect to be. Assumptions visible. Confident nonsense is worse than modest realism.
The ask. How much, what for, and what it buys. Astonishingly often missing.
Contact. One slide, obvious.
Every founder who cannot use presentation software believes design is the obstacle. It is not. Plain, consistent and readable beats elaborate every time, and the good news is that plain is easier.
One typeface. Two if you must. Text large enough to read on a phone, because at least half of your readers will open it on one. Enough empty space that the eye knows where to go. The same colours throughout, and few of them.
What to avoid, because it is what most homemade decks do: paragraphs where a headline should be, five different fonts, stock photographs of people shaking hands, charts without labels, and a logo repeated on every slide as though somebody might forget.
If you are working from a template, the discipline that matters is not adding to it. Replace the text and leave the layout alone. Almost every deck ruined by a non-designer was ruined by additions.
Two decks for the same business.
The first has thirty-one slides, a paragraph of text on most of them, and the ask on slide twenty-nine. It was written to be presented, and it works when the founder talks over it. Forwarded to a partner who was not in the meeting, it is abandoned around slide nine.
The second has twelve slides with headlines that state the point. Read cold in four minutes, it is understood. The reader knows what the business does, who it is for, what has been proved, and what is being asked.
Same business, same facts. One survives being forwarded.
How long should the deck be?
Ten to fifteen slides for the version you send. If more detail is needed, put it in an appendix after the contact slide, where the people who want it will find it.
Should I send it or present it?
Assume both, and build for sending. A deck that works alone also works with you talking over it. The reverse is not true.
What if I have no traction?
Say what you have and what you plan to test next. Early is a stage, not a flaw. Inflated numbers are a flaw, and they are always found.
Do I need a designer?
Not for this. Consistency and restraint account for most of what makes a deck look competent, and both are free.
The KISS Pitch Deck is a PowerPoint template with the twelve slides already in the right order, laid out for scanning. You replace the text and present it — no design decisions, no layout work, nothing to learn. Fifteen euro, one file.
See the templates →