STRAIGHT TALK, SORTA

In this year of unspeakable campaigning-for-POTUS tumult, there’s been lots of conversation around spin.  Who has it.  Who uses it well (and who doesn’t).  Why they say what they say – and the gurus behind it.  And, yes, if the public knows it’s being manipulated.

Get real.

First, know that spin – the deliberate crafting of words and images for political effect – has been around since the early Greek orators honed their rhetoric to arouse and persuade.  Since Kings and Queens took forever to decide on a particular portrait or silhouette.  And since Teddy Roosevelt’s primitive press conferences or séances, when he’d ask six or 12 reporters to join him over a shave and food.

Second, John and Jane Q. Public have a good sense of the inauthentic and the dishonest, the promotions and the scripted laugh lines.  Behind unreadable exteriors (despite what pollsters say), Americans have a terrific capacity to resist spin, seeking and trusting the agreeable in very logical reasoning.  

And sad but true:  We’ve become immune to spin, since it surrounds us daily.  Via advertising in all media.  Through content marketing that pretends to be impartial and not devoted to specific brands and companies.   Even inside companies, when executives run town halls and informal chats, the words don’t always resonate.

Do we need a 21^st century Diogenes?

REQUIEM FOR A [NEWS] LEADER?

Was Brian Williams’ demotion the death knell for anchorpeople?

Or does it symbolize (as we believe) how thin the claims of credibility and authenticity can be?

Think with us here.  Ever since Walter Cronkite earned the CBS anchorman sobriquet in the early 1950s, we used to regard our news readers as serious professionals, men (for the most part) who earned their authenticity in the trenches, reporting first-hand on serious and important stories.  That opinion continued to be fostered by the late Peter Jennings and the Huntley-Brinkley duet.  Fairly recently, though, the perception of anchor-folks waffled between entertainment and news; the buzz, in short, became more critical than the news.  And credibility zeroed out. 

In a sense, that TV contract of confidence between viewers and news readers is somewhat akin to the unspoken bond between employees and their corporate leaders.  Parallels abound:  Breaking news is a hard-won prize by skilled reporters.  Delivering information about workplace and corporate changes must also be a task assumed by the C-suite, provided straightforwardly yet with a sense of humane-ness.  Another:  We highly respect sector expertise, say, the political know-how of a David Todd or the late Tim Russert.  The same holds true for business chieftains who are not afraid to tell us the truth accurately, seriously, and relay what it means to us.

We could go on (and just might, later).  In your opinion, dear reader, which CEOs are today’s ‘most trusted (wo)men in America” – and why?

VOX NOT-SO POPULI

Columnists (no names here) have called it a “dead medium.”

Psychological researchers say 40 percent of UK office workers admit to nervousness when using it.

And serious therapies exist to reduce the onset and existence of telephobia. 

Yup, you got it:  The fear of the phone.

It’s not a yesterday statistic (the survey we cite was conducted in 2013).  Nor is it limited to 18 to 24ers who are, in large part, tied to texting and emailing.  Rather, many employees these days (94 percent according to the study) simply prefer email over any other communication channel.

Why?  Let us list the ways telephone talk is shunned:

• It can be intrusive
• Playing phone tag is annoying
• We can’t read what someone’s really thinking
• It’s time consuming (retrieving and listening to messages)
• The caller rambles
• It’s too much of an expectation (to return calls)
• It’s rude … and an imposition.

Seriously?   We’re sad.  Friends and family aside, a telephone call – like snail mail – can brighten our day.  A real-time exchange, even one that’s sudden, allows us to find out what’s going on, without reading between the e-lines.  It gives us permission to simply listen, to emote, to interact with colleagues, vendors, peers, managers, and leaders.  At our best, we can be comfortable and confident, and bring clarity to a conversation that, yes, might have rambled. 

What would Alexander Graham Bell say?  “To ask the value of speech is like asking the value of life.”

ALL ABOUT EYEBALLS

A year or so ago, we lamented the demise of magazines – and reminisced about our fondness for print.

That decline hasn’t changed.  In many cases, Publishers’ Bureau reports it’s gotten worse, with digitals grabbing market and ad and visual shares everywhere.  [Except for celebrity, men’s fitness, and ‘focused’ mags.]

But the sadnesses really struck home when Ladies’ Home Journal announced it was out of the subscribers’ business this July, moving to quarterly newsstand issues.  Sure, its heyday was in the ‘40s and ‘50s.  Yet we as PR practitioners in the late 20^th century worked with editors and columnists to promote client wares and stories, and celebrated when they said it was a go. 

For those who naysay the medium, contrast it with Web experiences.  How many times have you surfed a specific topic, and gotten lost in the maelstrom that’s Google search?  Or clicked on one link and found, like Alice, that you were falling quickly through hours of unsorted (and sometime un-validated) content?

There’s a finite beginning and end to a magazine.  Something that limits our thoughts, in fact, concentrates it into our memories.  A reportorial coup like Steven Brill’s dissection of our health care system (Time magazine April 4, 2013) is meant to be dissected, digested, and discussed.  Few Web bytes can claim that.

At the end, everyone says, print will die because increasing costs and decreasing ads don’t make financial sense.  Yet, like LHJ, we “never underestimate the power of a woman.”