PR Gaffes: Starting Out on the Wrong Foot (in your mouth)

There are many things that some PR people and vendor people do that really tick off editors. Here is a trio of beauties - all from one belabored but all too typical editor, and we're telling them as we heard them.

One: been thinking.

The editor's phone rings. The voice on the other end introduces itself and the company, then goes straight into, "I've been thinking about running an ad with you; by the way, did you get my release?" Do you know what's wrong with this picture? A surprising number of entrepreneurs don't.

Two: remember me?

How about this one: in the middle of the day, over the phone from out of nowhere comes, "Hi, this is Jim from (mumble) company in Fargo - remember me?" This really isn't a multiple-choice question, but what's wrong with it?

Three: how come?

Our third example happens with alarming frequency. The voice on the phone may be angry or hurt, patient and parental, or vindictive and childish. The question, "How come you didn't run the release we sent you three weeks ago?" Do you know why this isn't a simple, reasonable question?

Church & state.

In the first example, the caller presumes there is a solid, albeit perhaps sub rosa, link between running ads and getting editorial coverage. This is an alarmingly widespread belief. Advertising space salesmen may be somewhat guilty of prolonging the belief with their promises (often with a wink) to convey a release or product sheets to the editors. Most journalists gall at the merest suggestion of the practice. They hold these two fundamental ethics: in a free society, editorial space is not for sale, and the separation of editorial and advertising functions is as necessary as the separation of church and state in a free society. They are offended by efforts to buy them, offended that callers would use so transparent a ploy, offended that crass commercialism dare invade their domains. We've overstated the case a bit, but the melodrama is to make it a memorable point. And yes, there are journals and journalists who ad money can buy - but the big leaguers disdain them.

Civil defense.

Our second example, while laughable on the surface, demonstrates a problem more prevalent than non-photographic memories. Many people, without thinking, ask questions to which there may be more than one answer, but to which there is only one civil answer. Assuming the editor doesn't remember the caller (likely a safe assumption), the civil approach is to lie and hope either to pick up a hint during the call, or ask for information that must include identification, or get the call over as soon as possible and forget about it. An honest answer (sorry, don't remember you) may hurt the caller's feelings or insult (anger) the caller. Other questions of the ilk: Did we do something to make you mad at us? Don't you cover small companies? How come you don't talk about companies in the Midwest?

Odds to beat.

In the third example, our caller is simply naive. Typical journalists get 500-1500 releases per week and work on half a dozen to several dozen stories per week. He or she does not, cannot remember what came in the mail three weeks ago (can you?), especially if it wasn't a story that got written. The caller makes it obvious that the publication didn't write the story, but it's absurd to expect the journalist to remember the release, and more absurd to remember the reason it didn't get picked up. The usual reasons: other stories that were competing for story space were more newsworthy. Often, it wasn't appropriate to the reporter's beat - let alone the publication.