Creative Public Relations for a Digital World

Can the pitch be fixed? I don’t mean the new reality TV show, although the debut episode was a losing proposition — contrived, tedious, and unrealistic. But there was one aspect of the show that hit home, and that was the pitch itself.

A team from McKinney, the first of two ad agencies competing to win a client, files into a stark conference room, engages in awkward chitchat, and begins an upbeat walk-through of its lead creative campaign idea. The energy feels forced as the camera zooms in on the client executives, blank-faced, bored, distracted.

The vacant client reactions were probably a function of editing, to heighten what little tension the episode contained, and (spoiler alert) McKinney comes out on top, so there’s no abuse here. But the uncomfortable presentation scene made me reflect again on the typical search process where the agencies turn themselves inside out and throw lots of time and talent at a creative assignment in hopes of winning the prize.

I wonder if the clients who sponsor these beauty contests fully realize how hard a competitive pitch is on the participating companies. Maybe they do, since for the client who looks at ten firms, the search is likely to be protracted, confusing, and absurdly time-consuming. (On the show, the client very humanely looks at only two agencies. But the typical bake-off can include far more.)

It’s ironic that most agencies will deliver their best work on spec. At least in advertising, the creative that takes first place will presumably be the basis for the actual campaign. But ask PR professionals how many times they’ve actually executed the winning idea. For us, the pitch is usually an expensive and time-consuming chemistry test.

The whole process could use a fix. Here are my thoughts on how we might simplify the typical agency search:

Limit the field. Three or, at most, four agencies should be enough. It helps if the key attributes of the most compatible agency partner – size, culture, geography, etc. – are determined ahead of time.

Limit the deciders. Of course, corporate politics may dictate otherwise, but a smaller decision committee will save time, money, and anguish on both sides. A cross-functional team is an invitation to disaster.

Skip the RFP. We recently participated in a project pitch where the prospect vetted us by phone, then followed with a brief questionnaire with five open-ended questions, asking for our response in three days. They made a decision two days later. Almost painless. (p.s., we won.)

State your budget. Many clients fear being open about the budget because they want to take advantage of a competitive situation to get the best price. Why not determine your actual budget and get the highest quality work for it?

Spend the time. Offering real access to the decision-maker(s) and delivering quality information to agency candidates, rather than delegating the discovery process to an intern, will elevate the caliber of agencies who participate and the recommendations you receive.

Consider paying for spec work. You’ll get more in-depth, higher quality responses. And every agency will love you for it.

Hillary has become cool.

That’s right, the Hillary Clinton who struggled through grueling Democratic primaries in 2008, only lose the ultimate prize to the maddeningly unruffled new guy, seems to be having the last laugh. And we thought Obama was the cool one.

It started when two Hillary fans, PR specialists Stacy Lambe and Adam Smith, created the Tumblr page “Texts from Hillary.” Inspired by an iconic photo of Clinton taken by Time photographer Diana Walker, the blog extends the photo’s faintly badass aura of quiet power. It features fictitious texts between Mrs. Clinton and her colleagues and frenemies where she calmly shows her dominance (or as the blog puts it, that she’s the HBIC.) There’s even a “meme meets meme” exchange between her and Internet darling Ryan Gosling in which he texts,”hey, girl,” and she snaps, “It’s Madam Secretary.”

“Texts from Hillary” was already interesting, but what tipped it into mass consciousness in only a few days was Secretary Clinton’s own reaction. Rather than ignoring it, laughing it off privately, or trying to shut it down, she whipped out some texts of her own. On Tuesday she was photographed with Lambe and Smith at the State Department.

The real-faux text from the Secretary read: “Sup Adam. Nice Selfie Stace:-)” (a reference to Lambe’s smartphone pic) and ended with, “ROFL @ ur tumblr! G2g-Scrunchie time. Ttyl?”

Okay, so maybe she had help from her staff, but the response is pretty unexpected from the pantsuit-clad, scrunchie-wearing Clinton that we take for granted. In fact, my favorite touch is the scrunchie mention, which pokes fun at recent criticisms of Clinton’s unfashionable hair ties. But the whole thing is hil-arious, and it makes a nice contrast between Secretary Clinton and her onetime rival President Obama as the dismal and depressing 2012 presidential campaign gains steam.

The Hillz meme has been so successful, in fact, that it’s revived rumors about a Clinton presidential run in 2016. But as Mrs. Clinton (and her staff) have undoubtedly learned, America most loves and admires her when she plays hard to get. So, I’m betting Madam Secretary keeps on running the world from behind her big shades and her mobile, keeping her own counsel and staying cool.

One of my more colorful bosses was a communications exec with a very distinguished military background. His career included not only senior posts at the Pentagon, but two tours of duty in Vietnam, as a paratrooper. When things went wrong and I went crazy, he’d sometimes pat my shoulder, smile indulgently, and say, “It’s okay. No one died.”

Coming from him, it was more than a cliche, so I tried to adopt that mindset. But, let’s face it, the agency life doesn’t exactly promote a calm, Zen-like attitude. According to CareerCast, PR is the 7th most stressful occupation of the year. Stories of hellish deadlines, ridiculous expectations, and crazy hours are legion. But is PR really more stressful than other “non-combat” occupations? Or do we just love to think so? After all, it’s not life and death.

And yet, our profession offers some stress triggers that may be unique to the practice of public relations, or at least more significant than other service professions.

We serve many masters. Any client service business has special demands, but foot soldiers on the front lines of media relations have to answer to clients, direct supervisor(s), and, very frequently, members of the press. The goals of these three are often in conflict, yet we need to please all in order to be successful.

We trade control for credibility. The very magic of earned coverage is that its not within our control. The dynamic media environment we work in has only dialed up the risk – and the stress – of an unpredictable outcome.

PR is still poorly understood. Advertising professionals create something tangible, usually previewed by the client at key stages of production. Corporate counselors can be likened to lawyers, yet attorneys aren’t usually asked to guarantee results, and the cost of switching is fairly high. In contrast, client expectations for the PR process, timetable, and actual publicity results are often unrealistic. And, yes, this causes stress on both sides.

It’s based on billable hours. At many PR firms, you’re only as good as your billability, which can change from month to month. Both factors – pressure to prove one’s value, and lack of consistency – can pile on the stress.

Inside, it’s a staff position, not a line position. Billable hours go away on the corporate side, but there PR officers often deal with the fact that their function isn’t always considered integral to the bottom line. Many clients tell me they feel like mini-agencies who serve different corporate divisions, yet they don’t enjoy the esprit de corps of an agency. This results in the worst kind of battle fatigue.

PR is in transition. Well, what industry isn’t? Yet, the rise of social media and the speed with which new platforms, strategies, and tools must be mastered and adopted is only accelerating. More competition for mindshare, more opportunity, steeper learning curve….and more stress.

War is hell. And most of us wouldn’t have it any other way.

All airlines are prone to rough PR weather, but JetBlue seems to have more than its share. Maybe it’s because during a time of rapidly deteriorating expectations, many of us still expect more of JetBlue. It’s that rare industry bird, the customer-friendly airline. An oxymoron.

So when it goes off-course, that’s big news. There was the 2007 Valentine’s Day Massacre in which ice storms forced it to ground flights at the last minute. Hundreds of passengers were stranded, and then-CEO Dave Neeleman’s national apology tour helped repair the reputation damage. In 2011, it faced the PR fallout caused by  flight attendant Stephen Slater’s famous exit. Both were serious incidents, but Slater’s actions, at least, had elements of humor, and the airline’s response was measured.

There’s nothing funny about what happened this week. A JetBlue pilot suffered a mental breakdown and had to be restrained by crew and passengers in mid-flight. Though the plane made a safe unscheduled landing, it was clear that JetBlue’s own captain had posed a serious security threat to all onboard, shouting incoherently about “Jesus, September 11, Iraq, Iran and terrorists” and banging on the cockpit door demanding entry after a quick-thinking copilot locked him out.

JetBlue’s crisis response succeeded in that it got the mechanics right. Its blog referred to a “medical situation” on the flight and reported the safe landing in Texas (though with few details.) It responded in real time to questions and comments on Facebook and Twitter as the story unfolded, and CEO Dave Barger gave a live exclusive interview to Matt Lauer on NBC’s “Today” one day later.

But the messaging was a bit off. For the critical few hours after the incident it seemed to downplay its seriousness. Meanwhile, as the real story of the pilot’s breakdown emerged from passengers, the media accounts grew. “This Is Your Captain Freaking,” blared The New York Post in one of its more memorable headlines. Web comments piled up. Boldfaced names like @piersmorgan piled on.

JetBlue scrambled to do all the right things for the passengers on the plane, offering refunds for the one-way fare, a voucher for twice the value of the original tickets, and some personal outreach to passengers on Tuesday.

And though Barger’s candor and accessibility were admirable, he spent most of his airtime defending the Captain, personally vouching for his record as a “consummate professional,” and praising the crew who helped at 35,000 feet. It’s understandable, and the heroism of the copilot and passengers is a good story (as is JetBlue’s status as the first airline to bulletproof cockpit doors.) But the first rule of crisis management is to accept responsibility and acknowledge the seriousness of the loss or risk.

In defending the pilot so vigorously, rather than stressing how seriously it takes the situation, Barger veered a bit from the crisis playbook. Freakish though the incident was, the airline must 1) take responsibility for the situation; 2) call it what it was, a grave security threat; and 3) commit to a full investigation of the incident. It has done all three, but under pressure, and after Barger’s “consummate professional” quote was picked up, somewhat out of context, by all the major media.

Barger might also need to take a lesson from the Neeleman era. After the 2007 crisis, JetBlue pioneered a “Customer Bill of Rights” to ensure that such a massive grounding of flights wouldn’t happen again. It showed real leadership within the industry when it could have hidden behind tough weather and unanticipated events.

The case of the erratic captain has shone a light on mental health standards for all airline pilots and possible gaps in FAA screening measures. Maybe JetBlue should lead once again by pressing for a full review of those measures, on top of its own investigation into the captain’s record and its screening process for stressed employees. Then it can take credit for teamwork, training, and those reinforced cockpit doors.

The Joseph Kony viral video drama and the Mike Daisey scandal have one thing in common. In each case, someone set out to call public attention to a serious injustice, exploitation, or crime. In each case, their efforts were rewarded beyond their wildest notions. Too well, some might say.

Each begs the question, can our preoccupation with storytelling and the increasingly large gray area it occupies between PR and journalism actually undermine the greater cause? Or does taking liberties with the literal truth serve the “larger story”?

The Kony 2012 situation is well known. The astounding virality of the video detailing the horrific crimes of Ugandan warlord Joseph Kony galvanized a generation of young people, triggered impressive giving, and was discussed, debated and shared among millions.

It also invited scrutiny about Invisible Children’s commitment to facts, its allocation of funds raised and its treatment of a highly sensitive and complicated issue. To their credit, Invisible Children’s leaders addressed the criticisms directly, defending their commitment to the cause nearly as passionately as the video highlighted it. Had it not been for another ‘viral’ video – that of founder Jason Russell’s sad and bizarre public breakdown, caught on tape and share by TMZ, Invisible Children might have emerged from the controversy with its reputation intact.

Mike Daisey’s situation is more troubling in my view. In his zeal to hold Apple’s suppliers accountable for exploitation of workers, he simply made up facts. As recounted on shows like “Real Time” with Bill Maher and, most famously, “This American Life” on NPR, Daisey shared vivid details about mangled limbs, chemical poisoning, and 13-year-olds working the line at FoxConn. All fabricated.

When NPR discovered the truth, it issued a retraction and a full apology on its website. But the Daisey case is particularly sad, because his creativity and persistence in highlighting conditions at Apple factories in China made him a rockstar among activists. And by spinning lies, Daily has overshadowed and undermined the very cause he wanted to highlight.

Of course in each case, it’s not a question of PR that succeeded too well. The lesson is to be transparent, truthful and scrupulous with the facts. Invisible Children acknowledge they oversimplified to capture the public imagination. Daisey now admits he made compromises (i.e., told lies) to serve the “larger truth.”

The lesson for PR pros is that the literal truth always matters. And when the messenger becomes a bigger story than the message, everyone loses.