The pain of Inflamation

The increasing use of inflammatory speech and action to generate public attention in the current mass media, social and otherwise, is troubling.  Maybe I’m just too old school, but generating solid positive visibility through substantive news always seemed to work well at delivering consistent positive visibility.

Part of me aches when public voices literally threaten to do something, like block an unrelated event with a protest march, simply to generate public attention. Equally painful are the constant and escalating taunts, epithets and mocking of public figures in order to get airtime.  Not sure this works?  Note that Donald Trump has spent no money to date on campaign ads, but generates unmeasurable numbers of media impressions through constant news coverage.

In fairness, some measure of guilt goes to traditional media, since less of this would be highlighted and reverberated through social media channels if the professionals never covered it in the first place.  But here we are.

If media relations is the match that sparks the flame, the choice of how to use it is the practitioner’s – that’s strategy.

For some the “strategy” involves wandering around lighting and throwing matches. Most blow out before hitting the ground. A few stay lit and occasionally foster a small, confined blaze that burns out quickly before drawing much attention.

Others have watched the process long enough to play out the same game, but choose to wander in areas that catch fire more easily.  For these folks, an occasional grass fire scorches its way for a while, billowing some smoke and briefly calling attention to the flames, but often these fields are outside the view of the real audience.  So, those who are practiced in this method eventually stick to fields that are both conducive to flame and visible to their target.

Our friends who use inflammatory tactics know very well the best places to create highly visible blazes.  Because of this, the strategy evolves to creating the opportunity to toss out matches in those places, followed immediately with whatever potent fuel is available. No care or thought seems to be taken in what value or damage may be left in the aftermath; the focus is completely on kindling the largest fire while the attention has been turned that direction.  The problem with this approach, figuratively and in reality?  Sooner or later the damage goes beyond the terrain and blows back on the kindler.  Plus, the more you use this approach, the greater the need for extra fuel, and the more likely you (or the client, or both) get burned.

By far the most manageable strategic choice involves careful selection of where and how one strikes and applies a limited supply of matches. If there doesn’t seem to be a safe hearth in view of your target, consider building one (think Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade). Meanwhile, because building something like that takes time, bring your own kindling to an empty pit and build a framework that catches firmly, evenly and safely with one well-placed match. Monitor and manage the progress, fueling occasionally with slow burning elements, because the goal here is not a flash in the pan but a warm glow in a dark cold space. It will attract attention, not so much at a distance but from those who want to pay attention where you have chosen to be – the target audience, or the media that serve them.

I feel like having s’mores, how about you?


LinkedIn, if only you could facilitate that reconnection

LinkedIn graciously provides reminders of those people with whom you may want to reconnect.

I was caught off guard recently when the face that popped up as a suggestion was my friend Bruce Kramer. He would have gotten a chuckle out of the idea that LinkedIn wanted me to reach out to him, since we lost him to a very public battle with ALS last spring. You can read the book, We know how this ends.” by Bruce and Cathy Wurzer, to learn just how public it was. (Note that in doing a Google search for the book, all it took was “We Know” to make it the top suggestion.)

I recounted the story to my wife, who got a little misty when she recalled similar reminders from LinkedIn about her former boss, Paul Schmidt, who died a couple of years ago. Again, someone who would have seen the lighter side of irony in this automated suggestion.

I have been thinking about this corner of our digital footprint since then. Certainly there are profiles for many others that are no longer living. For some of those with whom they were linked, the appearance of a suggested connection may not be received with a wry smile, but could create unnecessary angst.

What’s the right thing to do in these situations? LinkedIn allows people to remove folks by gathering:

  1. The member’s name
  2. The URL to their LinkedIn profile
  3. Your relationship to them
  4. Member’s email address
  5. Date they passed away
  6. Link to obituary
  7. Company where they most recently workedPeople can barely get a handle on stewardship of their own presence in the ether, much less managing the reputation and visibility of those who are gone. This will become further complicated if someone manages to find a way to protect individual rights over their web presence, as I saw suggested recently.Meanwhile, for me, having Bruce pop up every so often brightens my day a little. So let him stay LinkedIn.
  8. Now that firms have generated corporate Facebook and LinkedIn profiles, who will assure the removal of those pages after a firm fails? Not sure how LinkedIn’s checklist translates to a defunct corporation.
  9. But who decides whether the person submitting the information has the right or authority to decide? What if one of my children wants the profile to stay and one doesn’t. (Or in my case, there would be two more that don’t care.)

Get Out! Ask good questions! Follow up!

Art of StartIn anticipation of the Opus Distinguished Speaker event on September 4 featuring Guy Kawasaki, it seems fitting to tap one of his books for a post. As you can see by the attached picture, I have marked many things in Art of the Start (2004). I refer to the book in a number of classes and particularly when facilitating seminars on networking. While Kawasaki has neat thoughts that relate to the concept scattered throughout the book, the “Minichapter” on page 161 concentrates specifically on the issue.

Titled “The Art of Schmoozing,” he points out that networking is the goyim word for this craft. The three most important recommendations in this section fall on the first page.

Get out.

Kawasaki calls networking a “contact sport,” noting “you can’t do it at home or in the office alone.” He acknowledges that it takes some effort to attend gatherings. I will add an extension of his thought that is equally important – strategically choose where to network and arrive with a plan and better yet a target list of people to see or meet. Often, people attempt to network in places that are too comfortable, which leads to chatting with other people “like you” rather than people who “need people like you.”

Ask good questions, then shut up.

“Good Schmoozers don’t dominate conversation,” according to Kawasaki. “No one is more fascinating than a good listener.” To extend this, you need to listen with genuine interest. You can prove that interest by asking probing question on the subject. Great networkers learn many things in the process of creating valuable relationships.

Follow up.

Kawasaki recommends getting back to people within 24 hours. He ultimately sums up the importance of the value of this concept in a single sentence: “So few people ever follow up that the ones who do are clearly special and worth knowing.” My experience affirms this, and the more “important” the new contact, the more positive impact reaching back seems to have.

Kawasaki offers other thoughts, but for those you will have to pick up his book. I’d let you borrow mine, but it’s kind of beaten up.


For want of a .jpg the war was lost?

In working up a blog post earlier this month, an experience with my family at a prominent arts organization in the Twin Cities sparked a subject. In writing it up, my description of the experience fell short according to my editors (Hi y’all!). They suggested a photo would help.

Not having taken any selfies that day, and wanting to respect the potentially copyright-protected art, I looked up the names of the nonprofit’s PR people on a press release and sent a request for a photo. After a couple of days, and pointing out that the viewership of the OCB Newsroom is over 20,000 people a month, I was sent a link to random photos from the organization’s archives – which include no visuals of the location requested.

This is a blog and doesn’t require anything fancy, so I wondered why one of the nonprofit’s staff didn’t just ask if an iPhone photo would do. It would.

Then I thought about why a professional communication person at a prominent organization might forgo this opportunity to highlight a short-term offering to potentially thousands of new eyes. Certainly these people could see the cost would be effectively nothing. Not that their time is not worth something, but it would be less time than writing me with the explanation of why there are no photos. While the benefit would be hard to measure, even one additional visitor would make a significant cost/benefit ratio against nearly zero expense.

I realized that what likely blocked the staff was not the doing, but getting the permission. Whether for-profit or not, if the barriers to approval represent arduous effort to overcome, or the “risk” of reprisal or failure are too high, tactical level communicators will choose to do nothing. It’s only natural. Not unique to communication roles, but this is one way it is manifested.

Pretty unfortunate, no?

Whether you are in communication or some other area, and at a tactical or strategic level, think about what you did this week. Did you miss any opportunities for the organization because getting approval might have been difficult?

Ask for forgiveness once in a while.


Out of office messaging

It’s summer, and the livin’ is… better than frostbite.  But for the marketing communicator, these are troubling months, particularly for the B2B marketer.

I walk around the university and things are pretty quiet.  Not just the students leave this time of year.  Everyone is burning vacation.  It’s a magnified version of what happens during summer at every firm in the country.

First, the marketing communicator needs to consider what channel might capture Bobby and Cindy’s eyeballs, even if they are on the beach somewhere (Because we all check email while on “vacation”). But the potentially bigger problem, and one left ignored – is there any point in reaching them during the week before and after Independence Day? Or even late August? Not only because their synapses are not firing in the work mindset, but even if the message hits home – will it still be in the neighborhood when they actually pull in the driveway.

Add to this the best case – Bobby and Cindy return to the office with your product or service USP etched in their souvenir shot glass, ready to pitch the team.  But the team is fractured because of all the other people on vacation.  By the time Labor Day passes and the last sunburn stops peeling, that shot glass has long since fallen off the desktop of their minds.

So what is a marketer to do?

Assuming you are in a relationship selling space, one thought might be to leverage summer as a time to connect with individuals with an incentive – but with the sights firmly on arranging meetings in the Fall.  This represents an admission on the part of sales and marketing management that the decisions to buy are made by a cadre of influencers.

In that same vein, a good marketer will acknowledge that the “hook” for the IT lead will be different than that of the middle manager who will actually be using the product. Sending them the same communication with the same attention getting incentive pushes success to the borders on the impossible.

Along these lines from a consumer view, my youngest son just got a nice water bottle from the orthodontist.  Nice enough to keep with the collection of a dozen or so on the top shelf in the kitchen.  But to get that logo out there, and engage the whole decision-making family, the office devised a sinister plan.  Every time my son has his picture taken in a new place with the dreaded canister he can send it in for an additional chance at winning a pair of uber-cool headphones.  I can already hear the sobs after the bottle gets lost at the fireworks, but Orthodontrics (Name changed to protect the guilty) will be seen and engaged.  And truth be told, they are helping us keep him from losing 4 bottles this summer – They can count that as a win when we get around to stage two of teeth straightening.

That’s great summer marketing.


Holisticity and Health Care Communication

Yes, I made up the word “holisticity,” but it felt like the right way to describe what I am seeing in the health care communication space.

A log of my time in recent months, and likely into the foreseeable future, displays a significant engagement with leaders and managers in health care communication.  In making them aware of the new MS in Health Care Communication, an equal amount of energy gets applied to listening:  learning what resonates with them about the program, and why.

Since beginning to have conversations about a communication degree with a health care focus, it has proven interesting that these practitioners seem to view the industry as interdependent at all levels.  These leaders are aligned with the idea that, to appropriately fulfill their work in one segment, a robust understanding of the entire health care ecosystem is important; that much like any living organism, things that impact the extremities may ultimately impact the core.

This perspective marks a start contrast to the technology field, where I have spent a good chunk of my career. Certainly the tech space is less regulated, but arguably no less interdependent on many levels.  However, the tendrils of influence and concern seem to stay in the much more direct lines of impact, ignoring eddies and undercurrents that might eventually swirl profitably or dangerously nearby.

Perhaps it is the fact that, ultimately, the deliverables for every health care organization are outcomes that impact more than a “user experience,” but potentially extend “user existence.”  For the communicator, it brings home the concept of viewing our work as being directed to stakeholder implications, rather than simply shareholder equity.  This holistic understanding of the, capital “H” and C,” Health Care space is at the core of the MS in Health Care Communication – because that’s what leaders expect.


Something new has been added

This monthly blog generally promotes the perspective of “good” communication, but also the study of business communication at the University of St. Thomas.

Even a soft-sell narrative stream can afford to make a harder sell pitch now and again, and this is the month for me.

Over the past few months, we have been developing the Master of Science in Health Care Communication in the Opus College of Business at the University of St. Thomas, a 30-credit, cohort program launching in fall 2015. The experience will combine on-campus classes with online learning to help busy part-time students earn a graduate business degree in one year. I have long known that breaking into the health care space can be especially difficult for communication practitioners. After a lengthy focus group with communication professionals in the trenches at a major device manufacturer, a tentative structure for a degree that would significantly lower that hurdle emerged.

At that point it became my mission to test the concept with health care and communication experts – including providers, insurers, device, pharma and communication firms with health care practices.

After dozens of conversations with communication leaders at the director level or higher, a number of things became clear. A degree of the type being suggested was attractive to these managers as a definitive means of overcoming a lack of health care experience among prospective employees. Because the content represents an umbrella of industry and practical knowledge (such as anatomy and physiology), it delivers value across all health care oriented firms. And, at a time of need for disruptive innovation in the health care space, no one needs to be better prepared than the communication team to understand the grander scheme of policy, trends and culture of the evolving industry.

By leveraging the years of experience in delivering the Health Care MBA, St. Thomas will be offering the industry a new standard in expectations regarding professional communication knowledge and expertise. Combine this with the high standard of communication for which this market is already known in general, and we have the makings of great opportunities in advancing the quality and impact communication people bring to this important industry. I encourage you to visit our website to learn more, or forward to others you know with an interest in this space. https://www.stthomas.edu/Business/HealthCareCommunication/


Making a flap with the media

While attending a recent media training (run quite expertly by former television news reporter Bob McNanney, now with PadillaCRT), one of our faculty consented to participate in a mock interview. Having been involved in many similar sessions over the years with senior level people, I know it presents an unusual risk and some courage to do this kind of thing cold – especially in front of a group of peers.

Watching and listening carefully, it provided a lot to think about during the rest of my day.

That evening, I happened to see a quartet of swans flying together. It struck me how different their flight was from other waterfowl, such as geese, and it occurred to me that there were similarities to how people handle media interviews.

Even well-seasoned spokespeople have a tendency to approach interviews like startled geese. Bashing away at the air and wobbling a bit on their takeoff, and even after hitting their rhythm, there seems to be a somewhat frantic pounding necessary to keep themselves aloft.

In contrast, swans take to the sky with measured, thoughtful strokes, knifing through the air with defined purpose. These huge birds fly with what appears to be effortless motion, keeping their significant presence gently on the wind.  But this is an illusion that belies the definitive effort necessary to propel such a magnificent, yet heavy thing forward, especially in the face of a headwind.

Our faculty member was more like the swan. He took a few moments to collect himself and made some notes. Then he rose to the challenge. His responses were clear and to the point, precisely articulated. When the “reporter” attempted to echo the statements and missed the mark, the faculty member did one of the single most difficult acts of media interviews. Without picking a fight or generating unnecessary tension, he calmly and firmly set the record straight, actually repeating his points in an even more poignant manner.

For me, this was a spectator sport that would rival others’ intensity over watching March Madness basketball. It’s great to have people of such exceptional caliber stretching their necks out for the university!



One answer? Not likely.

The Opus College of Business has created a space for discussion relating to topics critical to business (http://www.stthomas.edu/business/find-your-answer/ ). One of the current questions is: What’s the value of an MBA in today’s economy?

This is similar to asking “How much is a car?” The truth is, it depends. Like cars, MBA programs offer many features. Some are newer than others. Some appear more powerful. Some more nimble. Others more refined or exclusive.

Plus, the value of any durable good (like cars and education) needs to be considered not just in today’s economy, but over the lifetime of use.

So, to establish the “value” of an MBA for any individual, one must first define the utility that person hopes to gain by having one. For some this may be a ticket punch, adding the letters behind their name as quickly and inexpensively as possible. Appearances mean more than the knowledge that comes from the education component. If this were a car purchase, it wouldn’t need an engine, because it would just sit in the driveway as some sort of status symbol.

In contrast, many people seek an MBA program that offers robust degree requirements and classroom experiences that stretch and enhance student perspectives and abilities.  Their expectation? This knowledge and experience will dramatically impact future performance in the workplace, and accelerate career growth – plus raise the bar of potential from middle management to C-suite success. But some people think this is no longer true.

In either case, the ultimate value of any tool comes in its implementation. At the hardware store I can buy a number of tools to drive screws. Some are simple and inexpensive – like a Phillips head screwdriver. Others offer me the opportunity to do more than one thing – a hand tool that allows me to switch in Torx or Allen heads for a few more dollars. Or I might invest in an 18-volt cordless drill and a box of accessories.

Choosing the inexpensive option will allow me to drive screws (albeit with a sore wrist), but having the power of the drill actually allows me to do more, in less time. Once skilled with the electric tool, I can also apply it in many ways, some unimagined at purchase.

My UST MBA has proven to be more of a cordless drill, in the back of an SUV.

But, had I chosen to drive metaphorical nails, it wouldn’t have mattered whether the tool investment was for a hand model or electric. Either would have provided marginal value.


So… about that message strategy

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who stepped on a bee.  It was an accident.  The bee got startled and did what anxious, barb-ended critters do, and the child was stung.  Crying and running ensued, and a genuine hatred of “bees” was born.

Some time later, the boy happened to spy a winged creature with distinct yellow and black markings.  He swatted at the bug in the air.  He chased it with a broom, and ultimately followed it to its home.  The boy did not know that the large gray ball of paper was not a bee hive, but a wasp’s nest.  He did know the broom would reach it to punish the “bees.”

One good swat and the target broke loose and bounced on the ground.  A few dead wasps could be seen at the edges of the cracked shell, but were quickly obscured by a legion of their brethren that were very much alive.

Running ensued, and stinging and crying and more running.

The message was sent, but generated far more pain than having left well enough alone.

Terrorism is about a message of fear. Sometimes, the perpetrators attempt to tie that fear to a specific organization, country or even people. Sometimes the message strategy involves attempting to scare others into stopping a behavior. 

But what if the message emboldens the audience to do just the opposite, to send its own message, magnifying the original offending behavior exponentially?

To paraphrase French author Michel Foucault: The power of an action is not in its intended outcome, but in the actual outcome.

Perhaps, even if you kill the offending bee, there is more kinship among like creatures than expected.

Je Suis Charlie