… it’s about public relations, marketing, retail quirks, government communications and oddities … and written in Canada!
When Joe asked “are there social media tools and apps for which you once had high hopes that you now find yourself using and visiting less often?” - I knew I was in trouble.
I have a hard time with commitment. Especially when it comes to online applications.
You see, I loved once. And then I inevitably lost.
Shopping carts crashed. Design changes eliminated the features I preferred. The site’s coders fell behind the curve. The executive team burned through the first round financing before the AOL ad buy had a chance to drive buyers to the site.
That’s right. I haven’t felt loyal to an online app since early 2001. Even this blog has been on three different content management systems.
Just a few weeks ago, a widget developer emailed me to ask why I had dropped their app from this site. And sounded a little sniffy about it.
Ummm, because I wasn’t really committed to it? Our “relationship” was hollow and false and wholly self-serving on my part?
Sure, I installed the app because I thought my readers might find it useful. But I dropped it as soon as I realized it didn’t fit into the new design grid for the block.
I’m just a gigolo, baby. I’m looking for the short term hit, the thrill ride.
After all, it’s not like you’re invested in this relationship either. There’s an awful lot of chatter about monetization, exit strategy, buyouts and acquisitions. I know, you try to keep that talk for when I’m out of the room - but I hear it anyway!
Sure, you’ve hired a community manager. You’re rockin’ the CRM software, tracking installs, monitoring comments and tweaking your look.
Know what you don’t have? Time. Time to give me. To care.
I’m not a next big thing™ kind of guy. I don’t need to feel invested in your success. Your market share has nothing to do with my skills, obsessions or weaknesses.
When it comes to online social media apps, I’ll grab on to something that’s functional and serves my needs. Is your app weak in some respect? Giddyup, I’m doubling up!
Come on, you know it’s true! Ask any social media nerd about monitoring. Eventually, they’ll all admit they’re pulling a train behind your back. It’s the only way to keep on top of things.
But don’t cry, baby. Know what’s magical about a gigolo? Where there’s no commitment, there’s no sense of entitlement. No conviction that you owe me - we stuck through the hard times together!
You’re not going to get late night emails from me, complaining about how you’re never “ready” anymore. I won’t post minute-by-minute narratives about my experiences with your customer service crew. I won’t marshall all the social media tentacles at my disposal to whip up a micro-frenzy about your obvious failures.
Because, obviously the thinking goes, if you’ve failed me, your loyal and vocal follower, you’ve failed everyone.
Not so for the gigolo.
I’m just glad about the good times we shared together. Hopefully, you didn’t embarass me during a demo. Maybe you surprised me a few times. Even though I’ve dropped you off my favourites, I’ll still drop by every once in a while, just to see if you’re still around and good for a spin.
And I’ll always be grateful - that I didn’t have to pay.
I’ll let you in on a secret. I really can’t stand theory. Don’t get me wrong - I can understand the value of frameworks. I recognize that, sometimes, common elements repeat in patterns and trends that can provide insight into activities, events and environments.
I also admit that there are a whole lot of people with test tubes, accelerators, gene sequencers, huge friggin telescopes and very sharp pencils who have revealed fundamental truths about the very atoms and dark matter around us.
Those people have a pass from me.
You know what sort of theory really turns me off? A theory that uses adjectives, exaggeration and too broad a brush to lay claim to predictability or even certainty.
Sorry, all you social scientists. Unless you back your theory up with practical, demonstrable and measurable examples, you’re just waving your hands around.
So where is this curmudgeonliness coming from? The current trend among social media gurus to weave shallow but broad discourses about conversation, community and consultation without referring to any actual research, science or analysis.
Or, as some would tag it, an increasingly reductive attempt at self-justification.
Since any good theory is only improved by skillfully extracting supporting quotes from barely relevant reference material, let me return to my recent reading: two architecture compilations:
Guess which one I preferred? It’s the one that includes this quote from Jorge Mario Jauregui, an architect, about the favelas of Rio de Janeiro:
“When a new, planned building rises in the slum - be it a public toilet or a sewing co-operative - it immediately becomes a monument. It was conceived by an architect, it indicates things are changing: people understand they now have the right to what was only available in the so-called “formal city.”
Or this one, from an early developer of crisis housing:
“[Architects] were typically doing these Darth Vader things with helicopters and gee-whiz materials. They came at it with a lot of enthusiasm or commercial interest. There was a lot of experimentation going on. The fact that shelter had to come out of local material and processes eluded these people. When you told them that you can build a permanent house in Bangladesh in three days for the same amount of money they were proposing to spend on temporary housing, they ignored you.”
As for IN-EX 01, I found a lot of talk of honesty, truth, harmony, authorship, art and inspiration - and an unsettling lack of modesty or architecture that reflected the reality around it. (maybe I’m being pedantic, provincial and uninspired. Hey. That’s me!)
“Rudy Ricciotti: People will stop at nothing to give you a guilty conscience. I’ve seen hatred and scorn heaped on the concert hall by the architectural community, asking ‘But what is it supposed to be? The cult of objects, an ego trip?” And yet I’d made sense of something that had no sense: it was a rubbish dump before. For me, it was a political (poetic) act, with no violence. I finally told them all to go to hell!
Naturally, it’s so much better to produce obsequious architecture, with a few smooth slabs, some deep joints, a few mullion windows in the right places, and a referential horizontal plane here and there.”
There you go. To paraphrase: You may not like my work, but I think your work is overwrought and overly intellectual. But, together, we form a brotherhood that can claim sole ownership of the art and the product.
And let the proles pay to witness and benefit from our magic.
“David St. Hubbins … I must admit I’ve never heard anybody with that name.
It’s an unusual name, well, he was an unusual saint, he’s not a very well known saint.
What was he the saint of?
He was the patron saint of quality footwear.”
“You know, several, you know, dozens of people spontaneously combust each year. It’s just not really widely reported.”
“I’ve told them a hundred times: put ‘Spinal Tap’ first and ‘Puppet Show’ last.”
“Why don’t you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?
[pause] These go to eleven.”
“This tasteless cover is a good indication of the lack of musical invention within. The musical growth of this band cannot even be charted. They are treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry.”
That’s just nitpicking, isn’t it?”
“In ancient times, hundreds of years before the dawn of history, an ancient race of people… the Druids. No one knows who they were or what they were doing… “
“HELLO CLEVELAND!”
Technorati Tags: social media agency, business development, Spinal Tap, conference, speaker, Nigel Tufnel
First off, how what happened to Elizabeth Shue’s career that she has to be “re-introduced” as a cast member in the summer epic “Jesus 2″?
Secondly, Kevin Costner’s election movie looks like a feelgood heart charmer. Here”s hoping it has no harpoons, bison or golf.
As a third and final point, Eddie Murphy should just stop.
Please.
No matter HOW WELL the international rights pay off.
You may have noticed a slowing in my posting lately. I’m not very upset by this development, because it means that my work and family life is moving along quite nicely - but don’t take this to mean that I’ve lessened my commitment to blogging and social media.
I simply feel like making a blunt point about the rush to consensus and eagerness to endorse that seems to be coursing through the social media world, and particularly the suburb of public relations and marketing bloggers and podcasters.

There’s an awful lot of backslapping and overly enthusiastic encouragement that goes on in some quarters of social media - which is probably why this video never really hit viral status.
My first audio file, after five years. A little rant about how Twitter users are like hitchhikers - they jump in for the ride, but then become demanding, rude and overbearing.
Enjoy.
Technorati Tags: Twitter, hitch hikers, repo man, doogie howser
Blah blah blah. Bad people. Mistaken people. Not trained well enough. Not experienced enough. EVIL people. Quarantined people. Ostracized people. Blah blah blah. Blame the database providers! Blah blah blah. People admiring their reflections in their exquisitely designed glass houses.
“… If you’ve got a blacklist, I wanna be on it ..”
A blacklist represents an over reaction to a particularly irritating problem. It is also an ill-considered tactic that only serves to demonstrate intolerance and, often, a rush to judgement.
What sort of effect can blacklists have upon the list maker? Ask yourself how much news coverage you have seen of the horrible devastation in Burma. Five days ago, the world (as represented by the media) was up in arms about the poor response to the devastating crisis in Burma. This despite a wide-ranging ban from the Burmese government on foreign media and aide workers.
Today, the media is full of destruction, hope and recovery from China. The Chinese government knew to open its doors to honest and factual reporting, and to greet international offers of assistance with less gnarled and anger-ridden arms.
It’s a horrible observation, but true.
As for blacklists, I agree with Susan.
Technorati Tags: blacklists, Burma, China, cyclone, earthquake
The lilting harmonies. The aged war veterans, Salvation Army Band volunteers and balloon-wielding youngsters, meandering down the northern dell to the village centre. The overgelled hair.
Those are my memories of “Life in a Northern Town,” a wonderful song by Stephen “Tintin” Duffy and the Dream Academy, and a top ten hit in 1986. A real product of 1980s Britpop.
As an economic history nerd, I also saw the song as an homage to the personal experience of a region stereotyped by a several centuries of wrenching industrial development - textile workers, shipyard workers and miners.
Which is why I was confused to see this video on CMT today:
Thankfully, Sugarland, Big Town and Jake Owen don’t drift too far from the original … and didn’t make their version too “twangy.”
Still, Blake’s Jerusalem did not refer to the hills of West Virginia, and neither does Life in a Northern Town.
Technorati Tags: Dream Academy, Life in a Northern Town, Sugarland, country music
The Kaiser’s nailed it with a 21 slide presentation: The Truth about the Age of Conversation. (Slideshare)
(full disclosure: I contributed to the first Age of Conversation, and will be writing for the second edition, now in preparation)
Technorati Tags: social media consultants, age of conversation, social media business model
Hi It may appear that I am outrageously distracted. I have a book in my lap, a BlackBerry in my hands, and earbuds up top.
That must be why you’re staring at me.
Rest assured, I’m using my time productively, and I don’t have some form of attention deficit disorder (at least not clinically diagnosed, anyway).
The book? A galley copy of Rob Walker’s Buying In. All he asks is: are you the master of your consumer environment, or are you the bitch of marketers, pop psychologists and retail designers?
How did I get a copy? Here’s the explanation. Should you buy it? Yes, or read several chapters for free first, then buy it.
The BlackBerry? In the thirty minutes it takes to get downtown, I’ve checked my morning clippings, clicked through on a Google Alert produced by my vanity search, checked a couple of work-related blogs (Hi Kady!) and sent an email to my assistant. Oh, and I sent off a half dozen or so tweets.
The earbuds? Covers of 80s songs. Jose Feliciano. Petra Haden. Ben Gibbard. Harvey Danger. Spek. And a bunch of other stuff not so lame. It’s all better than the low rumble of diesel engines, the rattling of aging bus bodies and the snoring of middle-aged bureaucrats.
All in all, a very productive bus ride.
Don’t think I didn’t catch you sneaking a peek at your BlackBerry just as we approached downtown.
But what’s the use of that? It’s too late to actually respond to any emails, but early enough that you begin to worry prematurely about the workload that facing you at the end of that elevator ride up to your office.
Either use the BlackBerry effectively, or don’t wield it at all.
Technorati Tags: BlackBerry, commute, productivity, work/life balance, Buying It, Rob Walker
Ever catch yourself looking at a courtroom sketch, either in the paper or on television, and wondering “that’s great work, but how much demand is there for a courthouse sketch artist?”
Ironic Sans provides an overview of the work of seven artists - inside the court and out. Did you know that one courtroom sketch artist also did the storyboards for The Day After Tomorrow?
There doesn’t seem to be any shortage of reporting on the work of these artists, as any Google search will reveal. Some of the comments, however, reveal that the job can driven by multiple deadlines in a day, restrictions that vary from courtroom to courthouse, and even criticism from your subjects:
“… [Maryiln] Church was sketching at the first World Trade Center bombing trial, she said, when “at one point the lawyer for one of the defendants came over to the juror’s box (where we were sitting) and said, ‘My client thinks you are drawing him looking like an angry terrorist and he resents it.’” (Columbia News Service)
For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why a brand manager would buy these ads. An ordinary woman, with ordinary if well-presented clothes, obviously standing in front of a false aisle of consumer goods, blatantly promoting a particular product - sauces, detergent, food.
The most direct comparison? Imagine the scripted pitch and rigid product positioning of an in-store sampling program, recorded with better lighting.
That’s Brand Power, the work of the Buchanan Group, which was featured in the National Post yesterday in an article called “Back to Basics.”
And here I thought Brand Power was a particularly Canadian program - but it’s obvious that audiences across North America and the Commonwealth are seeing one interpretation of the advertisements or another.
“… From a creative point of view the ad executions are awful, but mesmerizing. These are the type of commercials that are generally abhorred by agency brand strategists who spend months deciding on how to sell you breakfast cereal artfully.
“They are not ads that electrify you,” said Anthony Stokan, partner at retail consultancy Anthony Russell Inc. “They are very lame and uninspiring. But that said, they are highly believable because they focus on the essence of the brand and the products.” …”
Chris Clarke has made a strong, and emotional, argument in the past that Brand Power could be considered deceitful and misleading. I agree that the format is designed to appear informational rather than promotional, but I have never thought it anything but blatant advertising.
You know, I’m beginning to think we’re due for a big shakeout - and untested social media tactics will be the first things to be thrown off the boat.
The economic indicators are there. Credit crunch. Everyone running to the security of gold. Drops in same store sales. The convergence of climate change worries with $100 oil.
When consumers decide to moderate their spending, where will companies cut their expenses? Bodies.
Bodies that do not have a quantifiable impact on sales.
Have any of your pitches included “starting a conversation” as a goal lately?
Are you REALLY looking for input from your consumers and stakeholders? Or does your idea of consumer generated content really just mean getting internet geeks to design edgy YouTube videos for you?
In a recession, co-creation can be another way to hose your ad, marketing and public relations agencies.
I’m arguing that companies under the gun, facing the knife, don’t really give a f*ck about what the public has to say.
They just want you to buy jars of tomato sauce, BeDazzlers and environmentally friendly printer paper.*
Sure, they’ll play along - but only to avoid product safety claims, grief about shift firings and to avoid repaying tax concessions granted when they built the local plant.
Consumer contact will revert to market-testing, sampling and insincere gladhandling on the shop floor.
Oh - and if you’re a new hire in a PR firm, I hope you’ve been developing a diverse skill set. It would suck to be the new “social media star” that gets thrown out with the bathwater.
*if you believe that there’s any such thing as enivronmentally friendly printer paper, you’re an idiot and a sucker.
Technorati Tags: conversation, cluetrain, customer service, recession, economic downturn
A collection of Twitter messages you will never see in your friends’ feeds. Some business oriented, some rude, some techie, and some attempting to underline the deep rifts that are developing in how we communicate with each other.
*that one’s for the Canadian civil servants
Technorati Tags: Twitter, tweet, business messages, office communications
Working through a meeting yesterday, and I came up with the following calculations to help you understand the probability of certain behaviours or actions occurring during a meeting:
Will the meeting be useful?
# of participants / # of decisions needed = X, where X<1 means the meeting is useful.
Will someone fall asleep?
If the (room lighting (in watts) / # of participants) > the room temperature (in farenheit), then someone will fall asleep
Will you leave to get a snack?
If on a conference call, length of call / # of participants = % chance you will leave to get a snack
Will you get stuck with work?
# of senior executives present / # or participants = % chance you will get stuck with work
Is it a colossal waste of time?
(# of “health breaks” + # of courses at lunch) / # of “breakout” sessions = X, where x<1 is an office retreat, x>1 is an association conference, and x=0 is an awards gala.
Will you start considering a new career?
# of windows in meeting room / # of powerpoint slides = X, where x<1 means you start thinking of better things to do.
Will the meeting organizer be mocked?
# of blackberries in room / # of participants = % chance meeting organizer will be mocked during his/her own meeting.
Was the meeting led by a consultant?
% chance meeting was led by a consultant = ((length of meeting) times (# of branded items left at each seat)) / number of times the following words are used (energize, operationalize, low-hanging, offline, priority, “report back,” or brainstorm)
Technorati Tags: productivity, time management, meetings
Public relations, as a profession, has an identity crisis. Not really a surprise, is it? Is it a touchy-feely trade that can only be learned through practice or a cold-hearted discipline informed by social science and buttressed by research? Are we a homogenous enough group that we can speak with one voice, or are we really an agglomeration of egos and anxieties craving attention and monthly retainers?
And who in the world can speak for us? Can we turn to an Alliance, an Association, or a Chartered Institute? Or must our identities be boiled down to more realistic descriptions: investor relations, health marketing, internal comms, or, dare I say it, blogger outreach?
For most PR pros, this isn’t really a crisis. They’re spending far too much time actually churning out tepid fact sheets, internal newsletters, lame untargeted media pitches, spending far too much time on twitter or thinking up new bizdev gimmicks.
The real identity crisis occurs every Thanksgiving when the extended family asks “how things are going in the job,” all the while giving you the stink eye. You know from experience that they have a stereotype of your work firmly stuck in their mind, and it’s not positive.
For instance, your older cousins could be thinking of Mike Damone, the scalper from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Your Aunt could be flashing back to Ron Ziegler, Richard Nixon’s spokesperson. And that young niece? She’s thinking Billy Mays.
Wow. Scamsters. Hucksters. Second story men, the lot.
This is a baffling state of affairs because PR pros are surprisingly self-confident and certain of our own capabilities. Otherwise we wouldn’t be in PR – we’d be in journalism.
Unfortunately, no voluntary code, industry standards or charter will change that perception. There will always be a cheap, dirty and dishonest alternative willing to “do PR” for a client.
Which is why we can only hang our hat as public relations professionals on our own record of experience, professionalism and results. It’s a profession that revolves around the name brand, the free agent on the rise, and the personal connection.
I really feel bad about it. I do. Obviously, a lot of planning went into your meeting. There was an agenda with an allotted time for each item. There were highback chairs and a big heavy conference table. There was even a scent of Roberts’ Rules of Order in how the meeting was being run.
But I still fell asleep. Don’t get me wrong - only for a few seconds - but long enough for my head and shoulders to droop. And I’ll tell you why:
I mean, if it wasn’t for twitter, I would have been sawing logs like Paul Bunyan.
*Obviously, I am writing about a completely hypothetical meeting. Not the one you’re thinking of.
Technorati Tags: meetings, etiquette, office code, behaviour
Have you ever had a moment, sitting in a meeting, when you realize that the person sitting beside you is blowing it out of their ass?
Social media has become the subject du jour in our communications meetings, and everyone seems to be reading and repeating snippets from articles in Wired and BusinessWeek.
And then they crap all over the idea.
I’m witnessing the behaviour right in front of me. Someone has thrown out a new and imaginative idea … and the faux experts are murmuring slightly positive things about the technology - but only before they start rolling out institutional, technological and bureaucratic reasons for why it won’t work.
They don’t have an outright denial - more of a conditional and begrudging acknowledgement of developments in social media in other parts of the world.
And then they compartamentalize the idea and their perception of the risk:
“We’re exploring it.”
“It’s a pilot project, being launched soon.”
“W’re going to be looking into that.”
Their power comes from their institutional postition: these people arrive with their institutionally-issued black notebooks and the business cards reading “web advertising experts,” “promotion specialists,” or “IT consultant.”
But there’s an unspoken and unwritten text: “I’m here to suffocate your ideas with good intentions and poor policy.”
And I can’t waste the energy to play their boardroom politics.
Please tell me where you, oh faux social media expert, have an office, work with your colleagues and try to exert your authority.
Because I want to avoid it like the plague.
Technorati Tags: social media expert, pr consultant, bureaucracy
Two comments from the fabulously named Noodlepie, Graham Holliday’s blog about journalism, food and other wonderful things.
First off: one commenter notes that journalists largely treat the internet like an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet. Sometimes the entrees are tasty and refreshing, other times they’re old, stale and previously touched.
“… The internet is a pub. The journalists are outside on a fag break. Every now and then they hear someone shouting or screaming inside the pub. They go in, ask what’s happening, take some notes and nip back outside for another fag break. On the second fag break, they are joined by their editors who cherrypick the journalist’s notes before heading back to the newsroom to add cherries as deemed necessary - with a nice fat link back to the man in the pub.
The journalists don’t really hang out in the pub, but they’re in and out on a regular basis.
Business as usual then really… That make sense?”
And another person (and freelance journalist) has a comment about Web 2.0 evangelists:
“… My point - although it’s a gut emotional response, really – is that I can’t stand the stupid technological determinism of Web 2.0 evangelists: i.e. the assumption that because technology has the potential to change something, that change will necessarily occur. Nope, it’s people that make changes - although they often use technology to do it. I think this may be what you call “pseudowank”, which is a much better term. Can I suggest you start a blog under that title?
Oh, the other thing that annoys me (while I’m ranting) is that the debate about “journalism, social media, people-who-used-to-be-the-audience blah, blah, blah” is so skewed towards the evangelists. This is a small bubble, and there are a lot of people outside it - in academia, for example - who have very interesting things to say about media, democracy, information rights, etc who are just ignored - probably because they are writing deeply researched books about it, rather than spewing out blogs or polishing their TED powerpoints.”
Technorati Tags: pseudowank, TED, social media
Close your eyes. Imagine a scene from the Dukes of Hazzard. No - the television series. Imagine what Cooter’s house must have looked like. Single pane windows. Rough grass alongside a gravel driveway. Likely a big block Chev up on blocks in the yard.
And a cord of firewood on the porch.
Which is why I found it surprising that someone in our quiet, boring, traditional and cookie-cutter design suburban neighbourhood made this startling choice:

A quarter cord of wood, stacked on the porch.
What happened to the matching Algonquin chairs, the planter full of seasonal flowers, the standard decorations that shout “my owner knows how to stage their property to maintain appearances and suburban propriety”?
Technorati Tags: Dukes of Hazzard, home staging, firewood, suburbs
Strumpette is being replaced by Furthermore. Like Eric, I had mixed feelings about the persona called Strumpette.
There is a place in the world for effective and well-targeted satire. It’s usually most influential when focused on a particular issue or community - like Valleywag or Spy.
Satire tends to fall apart and draw criticism when it is used to further barely concealed personal vendettas, or where the level of humour and insight varies among the authors.
It has been announced that Strumpette will be replaced by a site called Furthermore. Brian Connolly, who some have argued was the puppet master behind Strumpette all along, provides this explanation for the new name:
“…”furthermore” was selected as it captures the point where a debate gets definitive. Connolly said, “It is the exact moment when the conversation concludes amicably or somebody gets punched in the nose.”…”
I completely disagree. “Furthermore” is a bridge in a conversation, the point where a boring pedant continues arguing their point long after anyone else is interested or even listening. Similar bridges include:
Every time someone has used “furthermore” in a conversation with me, they were well into a diatribe and not very interested in my point of view.
Actually, “furthermore” was usually flourished when I showed an interest in interrupting the speaker or making a point of my own.
It’s a rhetorical tool used to stifle conversation, not encourage it.
Revision: I just looked at Furthermore’s About page. I’m being unnecessarily polite. The concept is bullshit. Satire is fine, but when you add exaggerated masculine bravado and fight imagery, you get bullying.
Technorati Tags: Strumpette, Amanda Chapel, Furthermore, PR 2.0, PR is Dead

Let’s stop this facade, okay? Public relations is not dead. For the vast majority of the world - in terms of population AND landmass - public relations practitioners still have another five, ten or fifteen years of holding back information, constructing media events and counseling executives and technical experts to “stay on message” and “bridge” from uncomfortable questions.
The “PR is Dead” theme is really a variant of a larger philosophy: information is free, and each citizen is capable of interpreting information as he/she sees fit.
It’s a lovely idea. Too bad it depends on three (or more) economic and social factors:
Oh, and the money to buy a computer, a job stable and well-paying enough to free up the time necessary to sort your own information, and a cultural predisposition to questioning authority and information sources.
As Phil and Todd have pointed out, most people making the “PR is Dead” argument really are assuming that “public relations = increasing volume and winning attention.”
If we define our profession so simplistically, we certainly CAN be replaced by a good search engine optimization program - but only once the rest of the world has caught up to the technical sophistication of Silicon Valley.
Until then, the community of social media advocates is being pretty presumptuous about the capacity or willingness of large swaths of the earth’s population to jump on board with their ideas and innovations.
Technorati Tags: PR is dead, PR 2.0, Web 2.0, SEO
I’ve been digging through the archives (more than 1300 posts) for something suitably intelligent and prescient to post in anticipation of BuzzCanuck’s 1% army bracket.
Instead, I’ve come up with a thought - two and a half years old - that seems right off the pages of this week’s Strumpette.
Ketchum, Williams, Rosen and the wood shed
Jay Rosen has rightly taken the PR blogging community to the wood shed for our (relative) lack of commentary on the Williams/Ketchum contract.
Many PR bloggers DID comment on the controversy - even those of us who do not work or live in the United States. Nonetheless, we can be critcized for not feeding this important debate on PR ethics at the speed or volume expected by most inhabitants of the blogosphere.
Not that we’re dealing with an isolated case. As Jeremy pointed out, the industry seems to be backsliding when it comes to transparency and ethical behaviour.
Public relations has long harboured underhanded operatives and unscrupulous tactics: the only way to demonstrate our commitment to open, honest and two-way communication is with the unstinting and outspoken leadership of prominent professionals, firms and associations (maybe even bloggers!) in the industry.
Neville Hobson, among others, hit the nail on the head when he asked where our professional associations have been hiding during this ethical imbroglio.
Several bloggers have suggested the associations’ low-key reaction may be a defensive tactic, designed to preserve their relationship with prominent members and sponsors.
If so, what is the worth of their codes of ethics? Are they just another page in a boring membership package, or a laminated plaque for the firm’s lunch room?
But why was the PR blogging community so subdued in its reaction? Why didn’t a feeding frenzy of debate and recrimination erupt, as in other parts of the blogosphere, building and tearing down arguments by the minute?
This, I think, reflect the differing motivations of the global PR blogger community: as Steve and Jeremy point out, we have individual areas of interest and concentration, and we don’t necessarily jump on the issue of the day when writing for our blogs.
Of course, our collective reaction could simply reflect natural aversion of all PR pros to becoming part of the story.
And that would be a shame.
Originally posted January 20, 2005.
Technorati Tags: public relations ethics, PRSA, CPRS, IABC, ethical blogging, values, morals

Hey folks. Know what I’ve noticed? Bloggers are most likely to post a critical word or a sarcastic riposte under two conditions:
Either way, a blogger minimizes his/her chance of confrontation.
Sure, there are plenty of exceptions. There are some global brands who respond positively to criticism. And there are bloggers who concentrate on local subjects.
But sometimes, the biggest target is the easiest target. And if you swim with the pack, the chances of being singled out are much smaller.
Technorati Tags: bloggers are wimps, blog authority, criticism
Underground blogosphere, eh? Drawing on my background in economic history, I present you with a medieval analogy:
Once upon a time, four young scribes frequented the same market square. They each had their own specialty - calligraphy, ornamentation, court documents and market hoarding - and each had built up a profitable clientele among the local carts and vendors.
Chance meetings at the nearby butcher, baker and candlestick makers brought the four together. As they found spare moments free from their demanding work, they eventually spoke about their craft.
As their skills improved, their markets grew. They discussed customers, competitors and business opportunities.
They expanded into other market squares across town, building on information they had gleaned from neighbours, family, suppliers and customers. Business was growing for all four - but one had greater ambitions.
Always a resourceful fellow, he had. been speaking to one of his customers, a fisherman. Hired to refresh his market stall hoarding, the scribe learned of a new lettering technique that helped cram more information onto each poster and sign he created.
This technique meant more effective work for his clients: their customers saw more information more quickly and more clearly. This meant more sales.
And since this new technique was unknown in their town, his work was lauded as imaginative, creative, innovative and a challenge to traditional conventions.
Naturally, any client who risked their business on this new technique had to be similarly gifted. That was plainly evident.
And no businessman was going to be outstripped by his peers - especially on something as simple, but obvious, as hoardings.
Town burghers flocked to the market square, looking for him. Business boomed. The other scribes benefited from the increased traffic, as well as the spill-off work he handed around.
Eventually, though, the burghers tired of standing among headless chickens, sacks of flour and rotting potatoes, waiting for his attention. Their business was normally conducted in hallways, not alleyways, and lunch was served on a tray, not on oilcloth.
The town burghers cleared a space for the still-young scribe in the town hall. There, he had acess to the guild offices, to the court registry, to the trappings of power and influence.
The new techniques could be applied to many facets of business: after all, there were many more ways to present information than just posters, signs and hoardings. The scribe began preaching the benefits of his technique to his new-found clients and colleagues.
His influence slowly spread beyond town hall: as the forward-thinking burghers showed off their new protoge and their pretty new signs, their friends and competitors returned to the market square, looking to their regular scribes for similar work.
Meanwhile, the other scribes in the market square, the ones who had previously specialized in calligraphy, ornamentation and court documents, had realized there was more business to be had.
It was obvious their old colleague had found great success. They had seen it with their own eyes. They heard it from their customers. Change was obviously necessary.
Talking amongst themselves, the three decided that simple duplication would not be enough. They would have to improve upon their old colleague’s work.
In practice, this meant collaboration. The fishermen had brought more examples of innovative work from ports abroad. Word of new techniques had been passed along by travellers from other towns. When clerics arrived, they brought along texts from distant centres of learning.
Innovation was progressing. Original techniques had become commonplace. Every scribe had to adapt to a more complex, but rewarding, profession.
For their old colleague, now comfortably ensconced in a community of notables and nobles, these developments presented a challenge.
How would he maintain his position of authority and influence if his innovative work was outstripped?
How could he keep his reputation as a thought leader if his profession advanced beyond him?
At the same time, how could he keep tabs on his competitors?
Especially if their work was largely conducted between individuals, among friends, and in market squares?
After all, it had become obvious business was much more easy to conduct after a warm meal, a good mug of beer and a convivial guild meeting.
It really was a sympathetic system of government: markets were influenced, to a large part, by the self-appointed regulation of the burghers, with the complicity of the guilds.
The trick, of course, was to drag, convince or connive your way into the ranks of the privileged - and then hang on with all your might.
It was all gravy from that point on.
Technorati: underground blogosphere blego
The stock photos used to promote Microsoft’s latest launch, for Visual Studio Express, are doctored by Joey deVilla.
Today, the Times provides some welcome instruction on how to be an intellectual.
Two hints:
Intellectuals ought only to live in cities. If you must live in the country, try to ensure that it is in some form of converted church or lighthouse. Geography matters. Intellectuals ought to live in North London, Cambridge, Edinburgh, Durham or Devon. In South London, Oxford, Glasgow, Newcastle or Cornwall, you are merely a smartarse.
Clutter your house with books (many decorators will sell them by the yard) and cultivate an eclectic speciality (Scottish jazz, Afrikaaner ska, 18th-century punk rock, etc) among your CD collection. This will help to obscure the fact that you don�t own any Beethoven.
I also have it on good authority that suede shoes with metal buckles and pink shirts also impart an air of eccentricity, therefore superiority.
Jay Rosen has rightly taken the PR blogging community to the wood shed for our (relative) lack of commentary on the Williams/Ketchum contract.
Many PR bloggers DID comment on the controversy - even those of us who do not work or live in the United States. Nonetheless, we can be critcized for not feeding this important debate on PR ethics at the speed or volume expected by most inhabitants of the blogosphere.
Not that we’re dealing with an isolated case. As Jeremy pointed out, the industry seems to be backsliding when it comes to transparency and ethical behaviour.
Public relations has long harboured underhanded operatives and unscrupulous tactics: the only way to demonstrate our commitment to open, honest and two-way communication is with the unstinting and outspoken leadership of prominent professionals, firms and associations (maybe even bloggers!) in the industry.
Neville Hobson, among others, hit the nail on the head when he asked where our professional associations have been hiding during this ethical imbroglio.
Several bloggers have suggested the associations’ low-key reaction may be a defensive tactic, designed to preserve their relationship with prominent members and sponsors.
If so, what is the worth of their codes of ethics? Are they just another page in a boring membership package, or a laminated plaque for the firm’s lunch room?
But why was the PR blogging community so subdued in its reaction? Why didn’t a feeding frenzy of debate and recrimination erupt, as in other parts of the blogosphere, building and tearing down arguments by the minute?
This, I think, reflect the differing motivations of the global PR blogger community: as Steve and Jeremy point out, we have individual areas of interest and concentration, and we don’t necessarily jump on the issue of the day when writing for our blogs.
Of course, our collective reaction could simply reflect natural aversion of all PR pros to becoming part of the story.
And that would be a shame.
I ran across a piece with that title a while ago, and it’s prompted a few thoughts about “astroturf” - the practice of creating an apparent grass-roots movement through subterfuge, careful marshalling of opposition, and the construction of apparently independent third-party coalitions and organizations.
Of course, whether it’s Kentucky bluegrass or astroturf is in the eye of the beholder. There are always two sides to a story - but money (or lack of it) is usually a high hurdle for one side in an issue campaign. Campaigns with well-integrated advertising, lobbying efforts, sophisticated and well-maintained websites and apparent widespread grass-roots support are sometimes viewed with suspicion. The charge of astroturfing, because it requires relatively large amounts of money, is frequently associated with big business or right-wing interests.
Way back in 1997, Mother Jones ran an examination of the astroturf organizations being coordinated by the Global Climate Coalition, an umbrella group apparently organized by the Washington PR outfit Ruder Finn.
Of course, astroturf campaigns can also benefit from charitable organizations and their in-house capabilities. (for example)
A non-smoker’s rights org has prepared a clear guide (.pdf) for activists trying to track the money, organizations, lawyers and lobbyists working for the tobacco lobby. It’s also a quick reference for any effort to uncover astroturf organizations.
A radio ad has been running on Chicago radio for the past few weeks, opposing an upcoming change to the fire code. The ads make a passionate and credible safety argument, and close by pointing the listener to a third-party site. Jumping to the site, you can see it’s sponsored by the firefighter’s union and others. I know nothing about the issue, but alarm bells always seem to ring when the safety card is heavily played in an issue campaign.
The shareholder uprising at Disney has been branded a “grass roots revolution,” but is it? Roy Disney and Stanley Gold have spent a lot of money convincing the public that their fight with Michael Eisner is over corporate strategy and proper governance mechanisms.
Their campaign has relied upon a sketchy protest website, a growing irritation in the entertainment industry towards Eisner, and Roy’s goofy but familiar features - which certainly remind me of good old Uncle Walt and his Sunday night TV program. But is it really a grass-roots revolution?
Two recent reviews of long-treasured magazines prompted this little mini-reminiscence. I know I’m overlooking a lot.
Once upon a time, the world was a gentler and kindler place. You had search hard and long for irony, satire and sarcasm in popular culture in North America. Sure, Lenny Bruce, Newhart, Cavett, Carlin and the Smothers Brothers were working clubs and skating a fine line of morality on TV, but you were more likely to see Jack Hanna or Senor Wences talking to Ed or Johnny most nights.
National Lampoon helped crack the veneer of respectablity. Like Carlin, they brought a critical eye to the details and conventions of that defined our everyday suburban life. Slate’s taken a look at a re-issue of a book that made us re-examine our own surroundings - the familiar cast of nerds, dweebs, losers, geeks, sluts, bikers and teacher’s pets we all knew intimately from school - National Lampoon’s 1964 High School Yearbook
National Lampoon’s work continues to resonate in popular culture today. Doug Kenney, one of the Yearbook’s authors, helped write Animal House as well as Caddyshack. P.J. O’Rourke was another author.
Despite this ground-breaking work, it would be years before the TV networks would reluctantly welcome the caustic wit, mildly offensive skits and satirical observations of everymen like David Letterman - and then only late at night.
In 1986, as Folio reminds us, Spy magazine was launched. Gradon Carter and Kurt Andersen helped rip open the pastel pink underbelly of the egomaniacal 80s - with its attendant power suits, pink suspenders, money clips, flashy cars and pretentious society gatherings. Spy’s irreverent approach to the affairs, parties and peccadillos of businessmen, celebrities and policiticans echoed many of the ideas first published by Britain’s Private Eye and Punch magazines - but in a louder, more aggressive and more colourful manner.
Spy’s influence can be seen everywhere from The New York Times itself (which adopted its disembodied celebrity heads) to the snide asides that pop up in Entertainment Weekly and The New York Observer.
Maybe the loudest incarnation of this influence was E!’s Talk Soup, where hosts like Greg Kinnear and John Henson distilled a day’s worth of talk show freaks, soap opera antics and news oddities into a soundbite and video clip potpourri - narrated with more than a touch of sarcasm.
But has the world turned on its head? Sarcasm, irony and ennui are now so common-place that John Edwards announced his presidential run on The Daily Show.