Saturday, January 28, 2012

Is "Public Relations" Even the Right Term Anymore?


Much like the NAACP maintains the archaic and politically incorrect term "colored people"to perpetuate its well-established brand, the Public Relations Society of America will likely maintain the term "public relations" long after the phrase has gone out of favor.

In a world of 24-hour connectivity where journalists are scooping their own news organizations through Twitter and traditionally conservative businesses like Ernst & Young have Facebook pages, PRSA's definition that public relations "helps an organization and its publics adapt mutually to each other" asks more questions than it answers.

But PRSA is not alone in its failure to adequately explain what public relations is. Entrepreneur.com defines it as "Using the news or business press to carry positive stories about your company or your products; cultivating a good relationship with local press representatives," but there's so much wrong with that definition, it's difficult to know where to begin.

Personally, I'd ditch the term "public relations" altogether, since it evokes the 1997 film "Wag the Dog," where, according to IMDB.com, "a spin-doctor and a Hollywood producer join efforts to 'fabricate' a war in order to cover-up a presidential sex scandal."  

Public relations involves much more than relations with the "public" but rather with a host of other stakeholders, including shareholders, customers, suppliers, media and competitors. In my seven years at a PR agency, my duties included media relations, internal communications, government relations and marketing, to name only a few. I think the term "marketing communications" more broadly captures what PR professionals actually do in 2012.

Using PRSA's own template for its "Public Relations Defined" initiative, here's my idea:

"Public relations Marketing communications creates and/or maintains a positive image for an internal/external client in order to accomplish its business goals."

This definition should be seen as a mission statement - short, precise description of what will be done and why. Since much of my leadership training comes from the military, I have learned that a mission is a "task" and a "purpose." In the private sector I've seen far too much confusion in the business world caused by those who believe a mission statement must include the "hows" instead of just the "what" and the "why."

There is certainly a time and place to list the "hows," but not in the mission statement. It's in the planning. This is true on the battlefield and in the boardroom.

Part of the planning process includes ethics, but the PRSA's code of ethics would complement my definition and, in my opinion, wouldn't need to be changed and are clearly stated:


  • Protect and advance the free flow of accurate and truthful information.


  • Foster informed decision making through open communication.


  • Protect confidential and private information.


  • Promote healthy and fair competition among professionals.


  • Avoid conflicts of interest.


  • Work to strengthen the public’s trust in the profession.


  • Each example listed by PRSA Chair/CEO Gerard Corbett violates at least one of the above-listed principles, but the Google example stands out as the most dangerous because it runs afoul of the goals of promoting "healthy and fair competition among professionals" and fostering "informed decision making through open communication." 

    Any "whispering campaign" cannot possibly be categorized as "open communication," particularly if it's undertaken by a PR professional on behalf of a client. If Burson-Marsteller had created a campaign to highlight the privacy-protecting aspects of its client (which might indirectly address some privacy concerns about Google's "Social Circle"), that would have been seen as clever PR work. Instead, Burson-Marsteller executives quietly pitched ideas about the dangers of Social Circle to select media outlets on behalf of an unnamed client and there's nothing "fair" or "open" about that.

    I fully support promoting and enforcing ethical standards in my industry and I applaud PRSA's ongoing efforts. Professional organizations like the American Bar Association have a long track record of policing their members and upholding ethical standards and any increased government involvement is unnecessary. There are legal remedies, both criminal and civil, against fraud and other violations that might occur when unethical PR practices take place.  

    Political pundit George Will once observed "World War II was the last government program that really worked" and I'd be willing to bet that a Washington bureaucracy enforcing ethics in the public relations field would do little to change Will's mind.



    Saturday, January 21, 2012

    Did Brita's FilterForGood Campaign Bottle Up the Truth?

    Suzanne Dunn/The Post-Standard
    With Americans discarding billions of water bottles every year, a campaign to reduce water bottle waste is certainly a worthy cause. As the Website FilterForGood notes "(T)he United States is the world’s largest bottled water consumer. In 2008, the U.S. used enough plastic water bottles to stretch around the Earth more than 190 times."


    Clearly, an effort reduce water bottle waste is needed because, in an economy where energy costs are soaring, FilterForGood tells us "It takes 2,000 times more energy to produce a bottle of water than it does to produce tap water...Many people intend to recycle disposable water bottles; however, 69% of bottled water containers end up in the trash and not in a recycling container."

    At first glance, water purification system maker Brita's campaign(which includes the FilterForGood Web site) to persuade consumers not to purchase water bottled in plastic seems above reproach, but as Case 3-A "Corporate Responsibility: Just Sales or Doing Well by Doing Good" points out, there are aspects of it that bear closer examination.

    Though I was once a journalist, I've worked in public relations/corporate communications for the last decade, so I've decided to use the Public Relations Society of America's Code of Ethics as a way to dissect this issue.

    Within the code is the "Member Statement of Professional Values," with "advocacy" being first among these. The FilterForGood campaign certainly positions Brita as an advocate for an issue that affects many communities in the U.S. and worldwide - litter generated from disposable water bottles.

    Additionally, Brita fulfills the next principle, "honesty," which includes "advancing the interests of those we represent and in communicating with the public" by clearing labeling the FilterForGood Website with its corporate logo. It's as clear as purified water that Brita's goal is two-fold - to advocate for a good cause while providing a compelling sales argument for its own products, which include water filtration systems and containers.

    However, as the case study notes, replacing disposable water bottles through use of Brita products brings up an important consideration not clearly addressed on the FilterForGood site - how to recycle used Brita filters. The case study also discusses how journalists from the New York Times reported how Brita products were not recyclable, a point reinforced by Beth Terry, founder of www.TakeBacktheFilter.org.

    In the case study, Terry is quoted as saying "to give up bottled water, you have to switch to another plastic products that's not recyclable," but it seems that Brita has since realized this conundrum and launched its own initiatives to prevent its products from trashing Mother Earth.

    In fact, the home page of TakeBacktheFilter.org announces that "Brita and Preserve (a manufacturer of 100-percent recycled household products) Announce Filter Recycling Program." And while it's a little more difficult to find recycling information on FilterForGood's site, it is there under "Our Partners."


    The PRSA Code of Ethics also contains a provision to "to aid informed decision-making" and Brita's FilterForGood campaign certainly makes a strong case that reducing the use of plastic water bottles is in every human's best interest but unless one has read the case study, the issue of how to recycle Brita filters and containers is not addressed.

    But unlike the New York Times journalists in the case study, who endeavored to tell the complete story of FilterForGood, PR probationers owe allegiance not to the truth, but to their clients. While the PRSA Code of Ethics contains good guidance, those principles may not be acceptable to a company paying an agency to promote its products or position it as a force for good. The PRSA code even goes so far as to highlight "Examples of Improper Conduct" with each provision listed, but it doesn't address how to deal with a client who may demand such conduct.

    PRSA has been clear on more black-and-white ethical issue such as representing dictators, including in a recent Financial Times letter to the editor from PRSA Chair and Chief Executive Rosanna M. Fiske stating a NYC-based PR firm's efforts on behalf of Libyan strongman Muammer Gaddafi and his government, calling them "distinctly against the ethical tenets of modern public relations."

    Students who plan a career in PR should be well aware of the possibility their own ethics and principles may be challenged from time to time by clients venturing into "gray" areas, which is why it is important to explore issues through education and professional development.


    Interestingly, the case study seems to illustrate a conflict between Kant’s Categorical Imperative (focusing on the action of reducing plastic water bottle waste) and Mill’s Utility Principle (focusing on the outcome of replacing plastic water bottles with a non-recyclable alternative, a Brita product). While this might have been true when the FilterForGood campaign was first launched, my research found that Brita's executives realized the competing ethical and practical issues and subsequently created useful programs and initiatives to recycle company products.








    Saturday, January 14, 2012

    War Correspondents Weigh Citizenship with Service to Readers

    As a former print journalist and a veteran of the Army's 29th Infantry Division (which landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day), I'm amazed that some war correspondents were trusted with the details of the operation prior to the June 6 invasion.

    In today's dog-eat-dog, 24-hour news cycle, no military commander would ever divulge such sensitive information to journalists. If he did, certainly no reporter would keep quiet about it for very long.

    Though the D-Day reporters stayed mum until the invasion began, one World War II journalist encountered a similar situation and made a very different decision.    

    While serving as a war correspondent, the esteemed New York Times reporter/editor James "Scotty" Reston learned a Nazi submarine had attacked a British warship in the Scapa Flow, causing serious damage to the vessel. Despite operating under strict censorship restrictions, Reston reported the story to his editors using coded language to evade scrutiny, a decision he later regretted.
    Case Western Reserve University journalism professor Ted Gup recounted Reston's reaction in his article "Secrecy and the Press in a Time of War."

    “I think that was unethical,” Reston reflected. “That was a case where my fastball was better than my control. I’d like to take that one back.”
    "Reston’s remorse confirms the conventional wisdom that reporters in times of war often find themselves torn between the instincts of a journalist and the duties of a citizen," Gup writes.

    While some argue this brazen action launched Reston's storied career, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was reportedly furious at the reporter's actions.

    As a former member of the Fourth Estate and the military, the struggle is easy for me to understand. It is also the topic of Chapter 4 in "Media Ethics Issues & Cases" "Loyalty: Choosing between Competing Allegiances."

    Once he'd learned of the attack on the British cruiser, Reston certainly struggled to balance his loyalty to his "professional practice" (as well as his "loyalty arising from employment") with his "loyalty arising from shared humanity," but in the end, one loyalty triumphed over the other. I'm not surprised that Reston felt divided loyalties. What does surprise me is that he admitted he'd made a mistake in the one he eventually chose to honor.

    Reston knew that reporting a submarine attack on a British ship in British waters would give Germany vital intelligence on what physical damage its fleet was causing. It is likely he also knew this information would be a propaganda windfall for Great Britain's enemy and would be used to demoralize the Allied cause and inspire the German public and its military.

    The censorship restrictions Reston operated under were certainly strict and, as Gup points out, many war correspondents "were easily discouraged in their fights with the censor and the gold braid and contented themselves with writing pretty stories about generals and admirals and movie heroes who happened to be wearing uniforms. Or they were content to sit around the rear bases and write only what the public relations officer brought around to them."

    But as draconian as these restriction may have been, I believe there were valid military reasons for implementing them, a fact Reston surely would have acknowledged. Had I been in Reston's situation, I would have balanced the need to serve my readers with the possible impact my reporting would have on civilian and military populations, both in my country (and the countries of its allies) and the enemy's.

    While it might be more difficult to envision what would happen if I didn't report such information, the impact of reporting it would be more easily considered. Clearly, it would provide Germany a military advantage, even if only in the short term, and would have a negative impact on the Allied cause. These facts are nearly impossible to dispute.

    As a U.S. citizen (as Reston was), I would have viewed the issue within the context of press freedoms and the conflict itself by asking "If the enemy of my nation, Germany, were to gain advantage from my reporting and eventually emerge victorious, what press freedoms would remain?" While Allied war correspondents labored under restrictions and censorship during World War II, these were temporary measures and ones that would evaporate once the war had ended, but only if the Allies were the victors.

     

     

    Saturday, January 7, 2012

    When The Bottom Line Trumps the Byline

    As one the MACOMM program's "seasoned citizens," I've spent time as a journalist and have encountered several incidences where I've experienced an ethical dilemma. Most of these were fairly minor, but the most memorable example came when I was the managing editor of a bi-weekly Fairfield County newspaper.

    One day, I received a call from a reader who said he'd just watched a segment on ABC's "20/20" that focused on several New York pharmacies that were under federal investigation for allegedly collecting old prescription drugs and selling them to customers as new drugs. Why did this concern my newspaper? The answer was simple: because the same owner was the proprietor of a pharmacy in the town the publication served.

    Although the Connecticut pharmacy was not under investigation, the "20/20" segment certainly did raise some interesting questions about what might be going on a few blocks from our newspaper office.

    As a journalist and the newspaper's managing editor, I immediately asked myself "What duties do I have and to whom do I owe them?" Again, the answer was simple: I have a duty to our readers (one of whom had contacted the newspaper with a tip) to investigate the situation and report on the findings.

    I summoned the newspaper's head reporter, a man at least 25 years my senior, to discuss the reader's concern and to assign him the story. It was clear by his initial response that his dedication to the story and desire to investigate and report it was, well, less than enthusiastic.

    "You know _________ Pharmacy is a major advertiser, right?" he sighed.  

    Despite my initial internal impulse (which involved screaming and choking the reporter), I took a deep breath and calmly told him that didn't matter and I expected him to look into the situation and report on what he learned. We had a duty to, as highlighted in Chapter 1 of "Media Ethics: Issues & Cases," tell the truth.

    He sighed again and shuffled out of the room. His body language previewed the story he would later file, even though he hadn't yet written a word.

    A day or two later, I checked in with him on his progress and, unsurprisingly, was disappointed both in his product and his principles. He had barely worked on the story and spent most of our meeting discussing how uncomfortable he felt about writing it. "I'm sorry you feel that way," I told him, "but you need to have the story on my desk on deadline day."

    When deadline day arrived, the senior reporter's work was what I will politely call "embarrassing." It was a poorly written story that clearly reflected his lack of commitment to undertaking any serious investigation. It also reflected his desire to appease the editor and the publisher, both of whom had a reputation for killing stories they thought would portray the town or its advertisers in a negative light.

    I could understand the reporter's intent to please his (and my) bosses and his fears about losing his job (he had a family to support while I was still single), but I was angry about his actions and told him I'd be writing the story myself. While I didn't say it out loud, I knew this reporter's loyalty was to something other than the code of ethics journalists were bound to follow. Principles espoused by the Society of Professional Journalists such as "seek the truth and report" and "act independently" were being subjugated to the baser principle of self-preservation.

    Throwing myself into the story, I produced a comprehensive, well-sourced article about the federal probe and the "20/20" segment involving the New York pharmacy locations while pointing out to readers the Connecticut store was not under any type of investigation. I then filed the story with my editor, who immediately called in the company's general counsel and summoned me to the meeting.

    As I had expected, the editor told me the story would not run. The lawyer explained to me the concern the company had about a potential lawsuit.

    "But couldn't anyone sue our newspaper for anything?" I queried. "If that's your concern, why do we print a newspaper at all?"

    He stood silently, refusing to respond to my question. I walked out of the meeting, tired of tilting at journalistic windmills, at least for a day. By now, the staff knew the situation and had rallied behind the story, so I walked into the newsroom and told them it had been "spiked." I also told them I didn't support the editor's decision, but he was in charge and we'd all have to respect it.

    Needless to say, the story never ran in our newspaper. About a month later, however, the daily newspaper that served our area ran a lengthy article about the federal investigation of the New York pharmacies, scooping our little publication.

    I'm not sure if any lawsuits were ever filed against the daily newspaper for running the story, but I'm certain the pharmacy owner later "admitted to having been convicted of Criminal Diversion of Prescription Medications and Prescriptions in the Third Degree, a class E felony," according to New York State's "Summaries of Regents Actions On Professional Misconduct and Discipline."

    As a journalist, I had a firm set of ethics to guide me on this issue, thanks to SPJ, but so did the reporter. How could he have reached a completely different decision from mine?

    Many of my classmates will face ethical dilemmas in their future careers and look to the MACOMM program to prepare them. While no course will provide a definitive "how-to" on making choices, learning about everything from Aristotle's Golden Mean to John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism (and other philosophies) will provide guidelines from which a decision can be made.

    In my example, I followed the ethical guidelines provided by SPJ and took what I still believe was the right action. While the actions of my editor upset and disappointed me for a long while, I eventually realized I had no control over the ethics of others, which was the most important decision I learned as a young journalist faced with a tough decision.