People often ask me what makes a great trainer.

It is a question I have been trying to answer for more than twenty years.

Not because I did not have an answer, but because my answer kept evolving as I grew in the profession.

My journey in Learning and Development (L&D) did not begin as a trainer.

It began as a training assistant.

Between 2000 and 2003, my responsibilities were largely behind the scenes—supporting programmes, preparing materials, assisting facilitators and ensuring everything ran smoothly. I was close enough to observe training, but not yet responsible for leading it. 

Then came 2003.

The Malaysian National Service Programme (NS) was launched, and I was given what I now consider my first major opportunity in L&D. I became involved in the Character Building Module (CB) —not as a trainer, but as part of the team responsible for localising the programme for Malaysia.

My role was to translate and publish the participant workbooks and facilitator manuals while working closely with a team of experienced foreign trainers. This was ideal for me because I was a publisher at that time and a training junkie to add. In essence I was involved in designing the training.

It sounds straightforward. It wasn’t.

The programme was being designed while we were simultaneously translating, editing and publishing it. Every day brought new revisions, new activities, new terminology and new learning experiences. It was one of the most intense professional periods of my early career.

My official entry into L&D was quite unique because most trainers enter into the industry by delivering trainings. Not me. I entered through design.

Looking back, I realise something important.

I was unknowingly receiving one of the best mentoring experiences anyone could hope for.

To localise the content properly, I could not simply translate words. I had to understand the learning philosophy behind them. I observed the trainers deliver sessions. I experienced the activities myself. I sat through and assisted in Train-the-Trainer (TTT) programmes. I watched how they asked questions, facilitated discussions, handled difficult participants and conducted debriefs. During the breaks and outside training hours I continued my informal learning as an apprentice. The lunch conversations, the late night debriefing sessions, those breakfast groundings I use to absorb as much as I can from my mentors. I realise that the most profound learning happened during those unofficial training times.

In many ways, I was learning long before anyone called me a trainer.

Then, in 2004, everything changed.

The Government decided that future NS trainers should be trained by Malaysians rather than relying on foreign facilitators.

Someone looked at me and said, “You know the programme. You were involved in the development of it. You can train.”

Of course, knowing the content and training others are two very different things.

But before I fully appreciated the difference, I said yes.

That single decision changed the trajectory of my career.

To train other trainers, I quickly realised that understanding the content was not enough. I had to become competent in delivering it myself.

So I began delivering.

By then, I had accumulated several distinct competencies, although I did not think of them that way at the time.

I had learned logistics from being a training assistant.

I had learned how to support learning as a table facilitator.

I had learned instructional design through localisation and publication of training content.

I was now learning delivery as a trainer.

All of this happened the old-fashioned way.

Through mentors. Through apprenticeship.

The foreign trainers who had come to Malaysia were remarkably generous. They did not simply teach us what to do. They explained why they did it. They shared stories, corrected our mistakes, challenged our assumptions and slowly transferred years of professional experience that no manual could ever capture.

That experience shaped my view of learning forever.

The methodology used in the CB was heavily influenced by Accelerated Learning (AL), itself drawing from the work of Bobbi DePorter and the SuperCamp movement. Experiential Learning (ExL) was not simply a theory we discussed. It was how we learned.

One principle stood out above all others.

Learning should be facilitative.

That is one reason I have always preferred calling myself a facilitative trainer rather than simply a trainer.

Training, to me, has never been about talking. It has never been about teaching.

It has always been about helping people learn.

As I immersed myself in AL, I developed another capability—facilitating learning itself.

This included asking meaningful questions, listening deeply, processing participant reflections, conducting debriefs, building rapport and creating conversations that helped learners construct their own understanding.

Years later, when I reflected on everything I had learned, I began asking myself a simple question.

What actually makes a great trainer?

That question eventually led me to my first model.

I called it DDE: Design  |  Deliver  |  Engage.

The logic was straightforward.

Every trainer needs content.

But content alone is not training.

Content must first be intentionally designed into a meaningful learning experience.

This is where learning methodologies matter.

Whether it is ExL, AL, Game-Based Learning (GBL), Project-Based Learning (PBL) or another approach, the trainer must understand how people learn before deciding what to teach. That is Design.

Once the learning experience has been designed, someone has to bring it to life. That is Delivery.

Delivery draws upon another body of knowledge and skills—public speaking, storytelling, improvisation, presentation techniques and communication.

Finally, even the best-designed and best-delivered session can fail if learners remain passive.

The trainer must engage people.

This is where facilitation, coaching, active listening, rapport building, questioning and debriefing become essential.

Together, these three components formed what I believed to be the foundation of effective training.

Design  |  Deliver  |  Engage

For many years, I was satisfied with that model.

Until one day, I wasn’t.

Imagine two trainers; Trainer A and Trainer B.

Both are certified. Both use exactly the same content. Both understand ExL. Both are excellent presenters. Both know how to facilitate discussions.

If their Design, Delivery and Engagement are equally strong…

Why do participants still leave saying, “I want to attend Trainer A’s workshop again”?

That question bothered me.

The answer eventually came from observing participants rather than trainers.

People no longer attend workshops because information is scarce. Information is everywhere.

Books provide knowledge. The internet provides examples. Artificial intelligence can explain concepts in seconds. The trainer is no longer the custodian of knowledge.

Nor do people attend workshops merely to be entertained. If entertainment is all they seek, there are countless better options.

Neither do they attend simply to interact with strangers.

So why do they come?

The answer, at least for me, is this.

People come to be enriched.

They come for wisdom.

They come for perspective.

They come for stories that cannot be found in textbooks.

They come for lessons learned through failure.

They come for practical applications.

They come for examples that have been tested in the real world.

They come for someone who has walked the path before them.

That realisation fundamentally changed my model.

DDE became DDEE.

Design. Deliver. Engage. Enrich.

The two Ds represent what we do with the content.

The two Es represent what we do for the learner.

Design shapes the learning.

Delivery communicates it.

Engagement involves the learner.

Enrichment gives the experience meaning.

It also explains something I had observed for years without being able to articulate it.

Two trainers may possess identical Design, Delivery and Engagement skills.

They will never possess identical Enrichment.

Enrichment is deeply personal.

It is built through years of practice, countless workshops, difficult conversations, mistakes, successes, reflection and continuous learning.

It is also why I place such importance on the first “P” in my 6P Model of Credibility—Practitioner.

People value trainers who have lived the work. The trainer walk the talk.

Qualifications matter.

Professionalism matters.

Good programme design matters.

But lived experience gives every trainer a voice that no one else can replicate.

Perhaps that is why mentoring has become increasingly important to me.

There are countless Train-the-Trainer programmes out there.

Most do an excellent job of developing the Delivery skill of a trainer, some develop the Design skill and a few develop a trainer’s Engagement skills.

Even far fewer intentionally develop Enrichment.

Not because they don’t want to.

Because enrichment cannot simply be taught.

It is accumulated.

Shared.

Questioned.

Observed.

Reflected upon.

Mentored.

After twenty-three years in this profession, I no longer believe that the greatest value a trainer brings is content.

Content is everywhere. Content is not King. Content is merely the starting point.

The greatest value we bring is ourselves—our experience, our judgement, our stories, our failures, our lessons and our willingness to share them generously with others.

Perhaps that is what people have been looking for all along.

Not just another trainer.

But someone who can genuinely enrich their journey.