Attack of the Flak

What I would say my first day teaching a class on PR at the local community college were anyone silly enough to let me teach a class on PR (anywhere)

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:57

First, I would sit at the front of the class for a long time; reading, taking notes, sometimes paying attention to people walking in, but mostly not.

Then after everyone was sitting impatiently I would get up and say:
First, let me tell you I’ve been fired by more PR agencies than any of you are likely to work for in your entire careers, so I know from whence I speak. Second, I never studied PR, never took any PR classes, and frankly think the idea is absurd.

Good PR people are born good PR people, you don’t make good PR people. Also, let me point out now that I’m full of shit, but I’ll get back to that, it’s going to be a recurring theme of the class.

Good PR people need to be honest, not Boy Scout honest mind you, but honest enough to make people trust you, and if you don't tell them you're full of shit every once in awhile they'll never believe you. I'd never believe anyone who told me they never lied.

If people trust you they’ll forgive you if you neglect or refuse to divulge certain facts. Withholding information is not dishonest, sometimes it’s the very reason you get paid. And let’s face it we’re all doing this because we want to get paid. No little boy or girl dreams of growing up to be a flak.

However, it’s your honesty and integrity that protects the institution you represent. Break those bonds of trust and you’ve not only sullied your good name, you’ve sullied the people that are paying you. What’s more, if the people paying you WANT you to continue withholding information, dissembling or otherwise damaging that trust, both yours and theirs. Then you need to push back.

Look at Scotty McClellan.

Not everyone’s a White House press secretary. True. But it all comes down to personal integrity, if you don’t have your good name you ain’t got bupkus because at the end of the day when you’re a doddering old fool no one’s going to say, wow, he was really great at making money by carefully releasing information. Maybe it’s morbid to think about what other people are going to say about me after I’m dead, but I highly recommend it. Really puts things in perspective.

You may think it’s all about the client. It’s not. It’s always about you. Never forget that. I’m not talking pure selfishness. You need to be principled to protect your clients, too. A good PR person should be the conscience of a company. After all, you’re the spokesperson, you’re the one that has to get up in front of people and spout the party line, it’s your name on the press release, your number on the website. You’d better be able to push back, to have a hand in shaping the story, otherwise you’ll get stuck telling a stupid story.

If people can’t get good information from the guy chartered with disseminating it, people will go elsewhere and then, then...all bets are off. It's very hard to control what other people say, but that boys and girls is just what a good PR person is born to do.

Now, let's take the rest of the day off. Who's buying?

Flaks - The Musical - Scene 1

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:55

The story of a Silicon Valley PR agency during the dotcom boom of the late 1990s

Scene 1
Two young-ish women (early thirties) Barb and Britt sit in a glassed-in conference room. Barb is looking at a resume. They're both well-dressed, stylish and evoke an air of the cynical.

Britt - Where's he from?
Barb - Nowhere.
Britt - What do you mean, 'nowhere'? Everyone's from somewhere.
Barb - It depends on what you mean. If you mean where was he born - I don't know. If you mean where was he working before - then he's from 'nowhere.'
Britt - OK, fine, let's bring in Nowhere Man.

Britt motions through glass to the receptionist, Tiffany, who is younger and more provocatively stylish. Billy, who is younger than Britt but older than Tiffany, wearing an awkward coat and tie is led in and cautiously takes a seat opposite Britt and Barb.

Barb - (looking at resume) So…Billy, tell us about yourself.
Billy - Well, what do you want to know?

(Britt looks at Barb, smiles wry smile)

Britt - Why don't you start by telling us where you're from.

(Break away to the receptionist who welcomes with a nod an older man, Clayton, clearly in charge as he reenters the office, cell phone to his ear. He flips down his phone, begins to walk past the conference room, then comes back to ask Tiffany a question)

Clayton - Who's he?
Tiffany - Barb is interviewing for a new AE.
Clayton - Really? (brief suspicious double-take, walks to the big office)

Tiffany is left alone in the reception area. She mutters, “’Really…really’” then jumps up onto the large front desk and screams “Really!” Starts singing:

Really.
He says “really” but no one really
Knows what he means.
No “yes”es, no “no”s
Everything’s all in-betweens.

(Jumps down off front desk and picks up the phone, sings into it)

Hello, Clayton Partners PR
Yes, we really, really are
Give us some cash, we’ll make you a star
In whatever galaxy you choose
And if we fail, we don’t lose
We get paid either way
We’re Clayton Partners PR
We “really” are
And “really” that’s all we can say.

(Tiffany quietly sits back down behind the front desk)

(Back in Conference room interview)

Britt - So, you're a writer.
Billy - Yes. I mean, I write, yes.
Barb - That makes you a writer in my book.
Billy - I suppose it depends on what you think of when you say the word "writer." I mean I've worked for magazines, written articles, book reviews, done freelance work, a whole lot of copy editing. I've also written for myself, you know fiction, short stories and things, so that's what I think when I hear the word "writer" - people like Faulkner, Fitzgerald, people who write, create things, but I don't know if I really qualify, see, I've never actually sold anything like that. So, I've been doing stuff wherever I can do it, like at computer pubs.
Barb - Right. OK.
Britt - So, I see you wrote for Open Systems Today.
Billy - Well, wrote, you know...

(Barb just holds up her hand. They look at each other. Billy thinks then speaks)

Billy - Yes, I wrote for Open Systems Today.
Britt - You've got a good grasp of the technology then, I take it.
Billy - No, not really (hesitating). I mean, I was an English major, I never took any computer classes. Is that a problem?
Barb - You know Word?
Billy - Well, yeah sure. I'm a writer (grins).
Britt - As long as you can talk about it. No one expects you to do any programming.
Barb - Old joke, 'What's the difference between a used car salesman and a PR flak?'
(Billy shrugs)
Barb - The used car salesman knows he's lying to you.
Britt - It's not rocket surgery.

End scene

Clients

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:53

Your client assigns you a project and it goes something like this:
Client – “Oh, I put together a rough draft, just some notes, really. I’m not the writer, that’s what we pay you for, ha-ha.”

You talk some more, get the details, review what the press is saying about the topic, incorporate some of that language, and (as Hunter S. used to say) you piece together a few facts throw in a little old negro wisdom and, bam, this nightmare’s over.

Except when you send it to the client for review they come back and say, “You know, just change it back to what I had before.”

So, what do you pay me for?

Clients.

Say it like Seinfeld used to say “Newman” – with pursed lips and clenched teeth.

Clients.

When I was on the agency side we used to joke that this would be a great job if it weren’t for the clients. Talk on the phone, read magazines, write and suggest to other writers what they should write. Only we had to suggest they write about our clients. Sure there are plenty of creative ways to do that, but you’re still pimping someone else’s dream.

Back then I thought, well, those reporters can’t be too pleased with themselves either. As kids did they dream about growing up to write about COBOL or Virtual Private Networks or Public Key Infrastructure? God, I hope not. I would hope they dreamt about being Ernest Hemingway or Woodward or Bernstein or both (Woodstein? Bernward? Ouch). No, who would ever dream about writing for a tech trade rag?

Now, though, you see people writing about all this crap just for fun, because they like it and want to share their opinions about it – for free.

And there, oh imagined reader, is the rub.

See, we had to pimp for our clients, that’s what they paid us for. The writers at CMP and IDG, et al, they had to write about tech because that’s what their bosses paid them for, tech was what paid for the rag in the first place. No ads, no articles.

Everything’s all upside down now, and crazy people are writing whatever sort of crap they want. Present company excluded, of course. What is one to do?

The Jester

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:52

Where did they recruit for court jesters, you know back in the day. Were these clowns just fallen noblemen, townsfolk who attracted the wrong sort of attention, or did people aspire to the job? Did the king place ads? What would that job req look like?

Wanted: Fool. Willing to say and do offensive things to power, but in an entertaining and ridiculous way. Juggling, tumbling, walking on hands required. Occasional food tasting.
Competitive salary, EOE, good benefits, limited retirement package.

The purpose was to have someone around to call bullshit when all the yes-men were just saying “yes” to something patently stupid. Companies don’t hire jesters. So, the more CEOs become like kings the less likely someone will call bullshit. Royal salaries and do-nothing boards of directors contributed to the mess we’re in now. Egoists wielding expanded powers, no one willing to stick their neck out and cry bullshit for fear of losing their share of the booty, and then when “mistakes are made” and regulators no longer regulate, it all comes crashing down like a house of cards.

The jester can then do some card tricks, but he’s no better off than anyone else.