This blog is not about advertising. But a forwarded link from a collegue caught my eye and since it holds many lessons for other sorts of image and messageing and media relationships I'm including it [below]. Plus, you know, the examples are funny.
Ahhhh.... Attorneys advertising. Love it. Hate it. Attorney advertising is still controversial many years after most professional prohibitions were removed.
Advocates say it is only fair that attorneys can advertise as other business people do. They claim ads make their critical services known to more people.
Opponents rail against ads and claim they diminish the profession and give false impressions of 'jackpot justice' to both the public and lawmakers.
This group of ads will give ammo to the latter camp.
Take a look. Even if you *never* do *anything* like this [and of course you never will] note these extreme examples and how they plug in to the advice in this blog about professionalism, message, myth, theme, media relationships and just plain decent common sense.
'List Of The Day' collects bad attorney ads
Showing posts with label Bad examples. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bad examples. Show all posts
How not to deal with the media: example #467
I ran across this news story from New Mexico and could not help sharing it.
While this article concerns a public official --not an attorney-- sad to say I have heard stories of attorneys handling ambush journalists in this very fashion.
Don't you be the one to provide me with the next amusing 'bad example' story....
While this article concerns a public official --not an attorney-- sad to say I have heard stories of attorneys handling ambush journalists in this very fashion.
Don't you be the one to provide me with the next amusing 'bad example' story....
"Off the record" is a dangerous myth.
[Update on June 26, 2010 Fired U.S. Army General McChrystal claiming his controversial comments in Rolling Stone were made 'off the record.' And Rolling Stones reporter Micheal Hasting refutes that with some very insightful comments on the concept of "off the record."]
While talking to a journalist there is no such thing as a comment made completely "off the record."
Why? Journalists have a professional obligation to collect information and share it with the public. They also gain status, pay raises, win awards and advance in their careers by having the most, best information the soonest.
So journalists have no incentive to ignore or bury what you tell them and every incentive to use it. When I was a journalist nothing in the world would set my head spinning worse than someone who wasted 20 minutes of my time chatting on the phone only to then say, "but you aren't going to print any of that. Right?"
Wrong.
There is no such thing as an official definition of "off the record," "on background," "not for attribution," "confidentially" or any other "safe harbor" framework that will allow you to tell a journalist anything that journalist will not convey to their audience. These are not legally defined terms you can rely upon like the terms of a contract. You may possibly learn to trust a particular journalist's discretion, but there is no official "time out."
In many ways your conversation with a journalist is just like a conversation with opposing counsel. If you can trust that person's discretion, great. If you cannot, or if you are not sure, then be discreet. But keep in mind that their interests and loyalties are not the same as yours.
Talking to a journalist is also much like being on the record in court. As an attorney you should put yourself in that same frame of mind: making a record. Do not say anything you would not want to see on the front page of your local paper.
Be professional, polite, accurate, discreet, while keeping your overall theme guiding your every comment. Do that and you will never go wrong.
Again. While talking to a journalist there is no such thing as a comment made "off the record."
From the time you start talking to a journalist on the phone, in a studio, in front of a camera or walking down the hallway at the courthouse everything you say or do is "on the record." Prepare and use discretion just as if you are in court, on the record.
The only "rule" [if you want to use that term] is that if a fact is in any way relevant it might go in the story.
If your receptionist tells a journalist that you announced "you are not wasting your time talking to any stupid reporter" that could end up in the story. Especially if the story is about disclosure, the 1st Amendment, or media relations. Or if you later deny avoiding public comments.
If you answer the phone while yelling at a subordinate and the journalist overhears, that could end up in the story. Especially if the story concerns allegations of aggression or courtroom antics or misbehavior or if you have a reputation as brash or rude.
If your cellular phone is ringing during the interview and the ring tone is noteworthy [Imagine allegations that you have a prior drunk driving conviction, your denials, and then your cellphone playing the song "Margarita-ville" loudly in the background...] even that could end up in the story.
Are there exceptions to this absolute "always on the record" baseline with journalists?
Maybe.
After you have established a long term relationship with a journalist, after that relationship has proven valuable to both of you, and after you have carefully tested the journalist's trustworthiness and discretion you might reach a point where you can trust that journalist with information you know they will not print on the front page. Maybe.
But such a relationship is just that; a personal relationship. It does apply to anyone else, not even to other journalists from the same media outlet. And that ad hoc confidentiality could end at any time if you have allowed yourself a foolish, indiscreet revelation the journalist thinks must be shared with the public.
Don't take that risk.
If you always treat every interaction with the media as if you are 'on the record' you will never have occasion to lose sleep regretting that ring tone.
While talking to a journalist there is no such thing as a comment made completely "off the record."
Why? Journalists have a professional obligation to collect information and share it with the public. They also gain status, pay raises, win awards and advance in their careers by having the most, best information the soonest.
So journalists have no incentive to ignore or bury what you tell them and every incentive to use it. When I was a journalist nothing in the world would set my head spinning worse than someone who wasted 20 minutes of my time chatting on the phone only to then say, "but you aren't going to print any of that. Right?"
Wrong.
There is no such thing as an official definition of "off the record," "on background," "not for attribution," "confidentially" or any other "safe harbor" framework that will allow you to tell a journalist anything that journalist will not convey to their audience. These are not legally defined terms you can rely upon like the terms of a contract. You may possibly learn to trust a particular journalist's discretion, but there is no official "time out."
In many ways your conversation with a journalist is just like a conversation with opposing counsel. If you can trust that person's discretion, great. If you cannot, or if you are not sure, then be discreet. But keep in mind that their interests and loyalties are not the same as yours.
Talking to a journalist is also much like being on the record in court. As an attorney you should put yourself in that same frame of mind: making a record. Do not say anything you would not want to see on the front page of your local paper.
Be professional, polite, accurate, discreet, while keeping your overall theme guiding your every comment. Do that and you will never go wrong.
Again. While talking to a journalist there is no such thing as a comment made "off the record."
From the time you start talking to a journalist on the phone, in a studio, in front of a camera or walking down the hallway at the courthouse everything you say or do is "on the record." Prepare and use discretion just as if you are in court, on the record.
The only "rule" [if you want to use that term] is that if a fact is in any way relevant it might go in the story.
If your receptionist tells a journalist that you announced "you are not wasting your time talking to any stupid reporter" that could end up in the story. Especially if the story is about disclosure, the 1st Amendment, or media relations. Or if you later deny avoiding public comments.
If you answer the phone while yelling at a subordinate and the journalist overhears, that could end up in the story. Especially if the story concerns allegations of aggression or courtroom antics or misbehavior or if you have a reputation as brash or rude.
If your cellular phone is ringing during the interview and the ring tone is noteworthy [Imagine allegations that you have a prior drunk driving conviction, your denials, and then your cellphone playing the song "Margarita-ville" loudly in the background...] even that could end up in the story.
Are there exceptions to this absolute "always on the record" baseline with journalists?
Maybe.
After you have established a long term relationship with a journalist, after that relationship has proven valuable to both of you, and after you have carefully tested the journalist's trustworthiness and discretion you might reach a point where you can trust that journalist with information you know they will not print on the front page. Maybe.
But such a relationship is just that; a personal relationship. It does apply to anyone else, not even to other journalists from the same media outlet. And that ad hoc confidentiality could end at any time if you have allowed yourself a foolish, indiscreet revelation the journalist thinks must be shared with the public.
Don't take that risk.
If you always treat every interaction with the media as if you are 'on the record' you will never have occasion to lose sleep regretting that ring tone.
Attorneys beware: who is that ‘journalist’ on the phone?
In Michigan, ‘old media’ are lining up to attack and pillory a Legislative proposal to create a voluntary registry for journalists. Such a registry would allow the public to determine exactly who is calling themselves a journalist, and what their qualifications are to do that.
The news media’s objections to the idea have not been subtle. The idea has been labeled ridiculous and unconstitutional right out of the gate. For better or worse, the idea touched a nerve. And it touched a nerve with the very people who own the barrels of printers ink.
Why should we as attorneys care about questions of journalistic qualification? Well, for starters, journalists have a myriad of special privileges that most people do not enjoy. They enjoy access to people and places, special legal status, and a reputation for being bound by ethical rules and a duty to the public. You take their calls.
Yesterday a colleague shared this story. A few months ago a very well respected bar association was contacted via phone by a journalist. The journalist asked loaded, leading questions that the bar spokesperson wisely refused to answer off the cuff, requesting to gather the needed information and call this journalist back.
Well, after a bit of investigation the “journalist” turned out to be no journalist at all, but a layperson with an amateur blog and a personal axe to grind. This blogger had made it past a couple levels of gatekeepers and been allowed to chat with the spokesperson, all based upon his self-adopted label: “journalist.”
A similar thing happened to me last week. A pushy middle-aged man, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, describing himself as ‘a journalist,’ came into our lobby with no appointment and began asking our receptionist strange questions in a rude tone.
“Since our members are attorneys, didn’t we have an obligation to allow the public and journalists to attend our private board meetings?” “Since we had [certain words] in the name of our organization, didn’t that imply we had Constitutional obligations to the public??” “Didn’t the First Amendment give [our casually dressed friend] the right to attend our [private] Board meetings, ask for copies of our Board minutes, and generally hang out and pepper us with questions as long as he felt necessary?!?” And, “when could he be allowed to address our leadership to air his grievances regarding our answers to his last few questions???!”
I was quietly asked to come out and ‘handle’ our concerned visitor. I listened to his questions patiently and tried to answer them. But whenever this self-proclaimed journalist made incorrect [frankly, ‘bizarre’ describes them better] assumptions as part of framing his questions, I calmly corrected his misconceptions.
It took all of three minutes for my journalistic friend to storm out of the door without so much as a thank you or goodbye.
Say what you will about First Amendment press protections, but in this new age of ranting bloggers and self-appointed amateur “journalists” I’d sure like to have had some sort of registry to find out who this man was, and through what media affiliation he felt the right to label himself a journalist.
[See another perspective on the problem of news, the Internet, and what is left of journalism in the June 2, 2010 Atlantic ]
The news media’s objections to the idea have not been subtle. The idea has been labeled ridiculous and unconstitutional right out of the gate. For better or worse, the idea touched a nerve. And it touched a nerve with the very people who own the barrels of printers ink.
Why should we as attorneys care about questions of journalistic qualification? Well, for starters, journalists have a myriad of special privileges that most people do not enjoy. They enjoy access to people and places, special legal status, and a reputation for being bound by ethical rules and a duty to the public. You take their calls.
Yesterday a colleague shared this story. A few months ago a very well respected bar association was contacted via phone by a journalist. The journalist asked loaded, leading questions that the bar spokesperson wisely refused to answer off the cuff, requesting to gather the needed information and call this journalist back.
Well, after a bit of investigation the “journalist” turned out to be no journalist at all, but a layperson with an amateur blog and a personal axe to grind. This blogger had made it past a couple levels of gatekeepers and been allowed to chat with the spokesperson, all based upon his self-adopted label: “journalist.”
A similar thing happened to me last week. A pushy middle-aged man, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, describing himself as ‘a journalist,’ came into our lobby with no appointment and began asking our receptionist strange questions in a rude tone.
“Since our members are attorneys, didn’t we have an obligation to allow the public and journalists to attend our private board meetings?” “Since we had [certain words] in the name of our organization, didn’t that imply we had Constitutional obligations to the public??” “Didn’t the First Amendment give [our casually dressed friend] the right to attend our [private] Board meetings, ask for copies of our Board minutes, and generally hang out and pepper us with questions as long as he felt necessary?!?” And, “when could he be allowed to address our leadership to air his grievances regarding our answers to his last few questions???!”
I was quietly asked to come out and ‘handle’ our concerned visitor. I listened to his questions patiently and tried to answer them. But whenever this self-proclaimed journalist made incorrect [frankly, ‘bizarre’ describes them better] assumptions as part of framing his questions, I calmly corrected his misconceptions.
It took all of three minutes for my journalistic friend to storm out of the door without so much as a thank you or goodbye.
Say what you will about First Amendment press protections, but in this new age of ranting bloggers and self-appointed amateur “journalists” I’d sure like to have had some sort of registry to find out who this man was, and through what media affiliation he felt the right to label himself a journalist.
[See another perspective on the problem of news, the Internet, and what is left of journalism in the June 2, 2010 Atlantic ]
Ambushed --my interview with "BD."
Previously I've stated that is it "almost always" in your best interest to make contact with the media.
This post concerns an exception to the rule.
I'm allegedly an expert. As a journalist I conducted thousands of interviews and I have been the subject of hundreds of interviews since then. I have pretty good instincts and possess a lot of confidence in my ability to avoid being ambushed and to steer a troubled interview back on the road.
But things happen. I make mistakes occasionally and get myself into a pickle. If you talk to the media you will make mistakes too. Don't let that scare you. If you have your wits about you and always take the calm, reasonable, professional high road even an media "ambush" can be weathered.
This is the story. I had fielded so many media calls on a certain contentious subject that handling that subject was becoming routine. So I had let my guard down. The shift in tone during one particular interview took a moment to sink in.
The journalist [let’s call him “BD”] was questioning me over the phone. After a fairly routine question his voice suddenly changed. “Look," he stated flatly. “You realize you sound foolish saying that, don’t you? I don’t believe what you are telling me and no one else is going to believe it either. Your position is just ridiculous.”
Up till now I had been operating on autopilot, answering questions as presented and finding opportunities to insert my standard talking points on this issue. I may have even snuck a peek at an email message. BD’s sudden snide tone caught me off guard. I said something witty like, “Huh?”
“You cannot tell me that [insert outrageous allegation here] didn’t happen,” DB pronounced. “You need to just tell me the truth.”
I gathered my wits and took a deep breath and – with some effort-- pulled my “Professional Communicator” hat more firmly down on my head.
“Look. BD…” I began. “I’ve been very frank with you. There is nothing to be gained by being insulting.”
“YOU are insulting ME,” BD replied with venom. “You are not telling me the truth. You are avoiding my questions. I know that [insert outrageous allegation] is true as well as you do!”
I could feel my metaphorical ‘professionalism hat’ loosening on my head again as I listened to this journalist yell at me over the phone and stop just short of calling me a liar.
So I took another deep breath before I responded.
“BD,” I said as calmly as I could manage, pronouncing the here-visible scare quotes and emphasized words with audible precision. “I can tell you that I do not ‘know’ that allegation is true because it is not true. And you do not ‘know’ it is true because it is not true. I also know that if I were mistaken and you did have proof that [insert outrageous allegation] was true then you would be writing a story about it rather than yelling at me over the phone. So how about we just…”
But my calm tone didn’t have the desired effect on BD. Instead BD chose to raise the stakes. “You are lying!” he told me forcefully. “And if you don’t tell me the truth about what really happened you will lose all credibility. You won’t have any credibility with me and you won’t have any credibility with anyone else and I’ll make sure of that!”
I then thanked BD for his interest in the situation and invited him to call back when he had calmed down. As I hung up the phone [without having lost my temper] I drew much needed strength from my knowledge that months later [now, as I write this] I would be able to look back with some pride at how I handled the situation.
Facts eventually emerged that proved BD’s allegations were false. His loud and insulting manner was merely an effort to shake me up in hope that I’d say something interesting. He failed.
So. Who do you think really harmed their credibility?
[NOTE:I am paraphrasing this conversation based on my notes from the call with deletions and modifications for the sake of confidentiality and brevity. As for the journalist known as BD: “the names have been changed to protect the [less than] innocent.”]
This post concerns an exception to the rule.
I'm allegedly an expert. As a journalist I conducted thousands of interviews and I have been the subject of hundreds of interviews since then. I have pretty good instincts and possess a lot of confidence in my ability to avoid being ambushed and to steer a troubled interview back on the road.
But things happen. I make mistakes occasionally and get myself into a pickle. If you talk to the media you will make mistakes too. Don't let that scare you. If you have your wits about you and always take the calm, reasonable, professional high road even an media "ambush" can be weathered.
This is the story. I had fielded so many media calls on a certain contentious subject that handling that subject was becoming routine. So I had let my guard down. The shift in tone during one particular interview took a moment to sink in.
The journalist [let’s call him “BD”] was questioning me over the phone. After a fairly routine question his voice suddenly changed. “Look," he stated flatly. “You realize you sound foolish saying that, don’t you? I don’t believe what you are telling me and no one else is going to believe it either. Your position is just ridiculous.”
Up till now I had been operating on autopilot, answering questions as presented and finding opportunities to insert my standard talking points on this issue. I may have even snuck a peek at an email message. BD’s sudden snide tone caught me off guard. I said something witty like, “Huh?”
“You cannot tell me that [insert outrageous allegation here] didn’t happen,” DB pronounced. “You need to just tell me the truth.”
I gathered my wits and took a deep breath and – with some effort-- pulled my “Professional Communicator” hat more firmly down on my head.
“Look. BD…” I began. “I’ve been very frank with you. There is nothing to be gained by being insulting.”
“YOU are insulting ME,” BD replied with venom. “You are not telling me the truth. You are avoiding my questions. I know that [insert outrageous allegation] is true as well as you do!”
I could feel my metaphorical ‘professionalism hat’ loosening on my head again as I listened to this journalist yell at me over the phone and stop just short of calling me a liar.
So I took another deep breath before I responded.
“BD,” I said as calmly as I could manage, pronouncing the here-visible scare quotes and emphasized words with audible precision. “I can tell you that I do not ‘know’ that allegation is true because it is not true. And you do not ‘know’ it is true because it is not true. I also know that if I were mistaken and you did have proof that [insert outrageous allegation] was true then you would be writing a story about it rather than yelling at me over the phone. So how about we just…”
But my calm tone didn’t have the desired effect on BD. Instead BD chose to raise the stakes. “You are lying!” he told me forcefully. “And if you don’t tell me the truth about what really happened you will lose all credibility. You won’t have any credibility with me and you won’t have any credibility with anyone else and I’ll make sure of that!”
I then thanked BD for his interest in the situation and invited him to call back when he had calmed down. As I hung up the phone [without having lost my temper] I drew much needed strength from my knowledge that months later [now, as I write this] I would be able to look back with some pride at how I handled the situation.
Facts eventually emerged that proved BD’s allegations were false. His loud and insulting manner was merely an effort to shake me up in hope that I’d say something interesting. He failed.
So. Who do you think really harmed their credibility?
[NOTE:I am paraphrasing this conversation based on my notes from the call with deletions and modifications for the sake of confidentiality and brevity. As for the journalist known as BD: “the names have been changed to protect the [less than] innocent.”]
Crisis communication: #2
This is part two in an ongoing series on "crisis communications."
To read part one: Crisis Communications #1
As I explained in part #1, "crisis communications" is a term of art in the media and PR business. It refers to handling the media and public opinion in an emergency. Sort of like those in-case-of-fire escape plans we are all supposed to create for home and office, but usually don't.
You need such a plan. Our first step to creating your crisis communications plan was to designate both a spokesperson and a backup spokesperson who will be your only conduit to the media and public during the crisis. This minimizes the change for contradiction and other problems. [See "Crisis Communication #1]
Step 1: Designate a spokesperson, and a backup.
If you are a solo practitioner this is not a problem, right? Wrong. Even if you are a solo, you need to go through these steps. There are still people in your life and your practice who have to be part of your plan.
When bad news hits the spinning blades journalists and others [police? worried clients? insurance adjusters? ] will frantically start trying to make contact. They might call you. Or they might call your receptionist, your landlord, your family, or your part time law school intern.
Do you want your part time law school intern struggling to answer delicate questions about your practice on your behalf out of a misplaced sense of loyalty?
Designate one person who is the ONLY person who can speak on behalf of the firm in a crisis. Make this clear to all. One person talks. No one else. Make sure everyone knows this and has the contact information for that person. Make sure everyone knows to not be rude to the media. Just tell them you can't speak for the firm and pass the contact along.
Now your intern, your legal secretary, your kids, your spouse, your law partners and your landlord all have clear instructions not to talk on your behalf about the crisis. Right?
Next, designate a backup person. Why? In case your spokesperson can't be reached. Let's say your spokesperson is the nexus of the emergency. Lost in a plane crash, washed off the deck of a cruise boat, kidnapped by terrorists, incarcerated out of state, on vacation or just stranded with a dead cell phone battery. Whatever the case may be.
Make sure your back-up person is someone you'd want speaking on behalf of the firm. Think of this as the equivalent of naming a PR or granting POA. This person could save you or kill you. Make sure it is someone you can trust.
And make darn sure your spokesperson speaks. It does no good to designate a spokesperson who does nothing.
Now you have a spokesperson. What should that person do?
Next: Crisis Communication #3
To read part one: Crisis Communications #1
As I explained in part #1, "crisis communications" is a term of art in the media and PR business. It refers to handling the media and public opinion in an emergency. Sort of like those in-case-of-fire escape plans we are all supposed to create for home and office, but usually don't.
You need such a plan. Our first step to creating your crisis communications plan was to designate both a spokesperson and a backup spokesperson who will be your only conduit to the media and public during the crisis. This minimizes the change for contradiction and other problems. [See "Crisis Communication #1]
Step 1: Designate a spokesperson, and a backup.
If you are a solo practitioner this is not a problem, right? Wrong. Even if you are a solo, you need to go through these steps. There are still people in your life and your practice who have to be part of your plan.
When bad news hits the spinning blades journalists and others [police? worried clients? insurance adjusters? ] will frantically start trying to make contact. They might call you. Or they might call your receptionist, your landlord, your family, or your part time law school intern.
Do you want your part time law school intern struggling to answer delicate questions about your practice on your behalf out of a misplaced sense of loyalty?
Designate one person who is the ONLY person who can speak on behalf of the firm in a crisis. Make this clear to all. One person talks. No one else. Make sure everyone knows this and has the contact information for that person. Make sure everyone knows to not be rude to the media. Just tell them you can't speak for the firm and pass the contact along.
Now your intern, your legal secretary, your kids, your spouse, your law partners and your landlord all have clear instructions not to talk on your behalf about the crisis. Right?
Next, designate a backup person. Why? In case your spokesperson can't be reached. Let's say your spokesperson is the nexus of the emergency. Lost in a plane crash, washed off the deck of a cruise boat, kidnapped by terrorists, incarcerated out of state, on vacation or just stranded with a dead cell phone battery. Whatever the case may be.
Make sure your back-up person is someone you'd want speaking on behalf of the firm. Think of this as the equivalent of naming a PR or granting POA. This person could save you or kill you. Make sure it is someone you can trust.
And make darn sure your spokesperson speaks. It does no good to designate a spokesperson who does nothing.
Now you have a spokesperson. What should that person do?
Next: Crisis Communication #3
Build your own story
The attorney was annoyed. Her firm had won a hard-fought verdict but their celebration was muted by what they considered improper media coverage.
"All they talked about was the size of the verdict," she stated with no little disgust. "They missed the policy issue and the misconduct of the other side. They ignored the bigger picture and the need for a Legislative solution. And they made us sound like we were gloating about winning"
I expressed my sympathy and made a few suggestions for follow-up media on the underlying issues. "By the way," I asked, "can you send over a copy of the news release you issued?"
She sent over an email with the release. The headline read, "$6.5 million verdict in [detail redacted] case."
I read further down. No mention of the policy issue. No mention of the alleged misconduct. No mention of the need for a Legislative solution. No big picture.
The release never even mentioned under what cause of action and legal theory the other party was responsible for damages. What had the other party done wrong, for goodness sake? Breach of contract? Defective product? Copyright infringement? Nothing there.
[The damages alleged by the plaintiff led me to make a private guess as to the cause of action, but nowhere was that fact stated.]
Next, a Google news search for the media hits.
Three separate people from the firm were quoted that I could find. All had different messages. One thing in common: None of the quotes from any of those quoted covered policy, misconduct, Legislative reform or big picture.
What they did mention: The size of the verdict [6 times]; How deserving they were, and their clients were, for the 'win' [5 times]; How hard they worked to get the verdict [3 times]; How awful and egregious and truly heartrending were the damages suffered by the client [3 times].
I called the attorney back and explained what I found. Her response: "Well, aren't the reporters supposed to find out all that other stuff?"
The painfully obvious answer is: "No."
You are an attorney, a legal expert. Moreover you are the attorney who handled the case.
If you cannot be bothered to translate the unfathomable gobbledygook [to a lay person] of a hard-fought litigation into three to five talking points that a journalist and the lay public can understand, who is going to do that?
No one.
A bare-bones "how to" of building a story in the media:
--Designate one person to talk to the media.
--Take the time to craft three to five talking pointsthat sum up your message. --
--Stick to those talking points.
If your message is "unjust system" then you need to say that [and support it with evidence, counselor]. If you allege misconduct then say misconduct. If your stance is that the situation that resulted in a wrongdoing or injury, and protracted litigation, is such that it merits Legislative action, say so.
If you say, "big verdict," "we won," and "we deserve the money," don't be shocked if that is exactly what you read in the paper or see on TV tonight.
If you fail to do your part then you can count on journalists to pick up on the most accessible facts [big verdict!], to dutifully repeat the points that you --the expert-- say are important [big verdict!] and to fall into predictable patterns of repeating stereotypes of litigation and the legal system [Look! Another great big verdict!!].
And whose fault is that, really?
"All they talked about was the size of the verdict," she stated with no little disgust. "They missed the policy issue and the misconduct of the other side. They ignored the bigger picture and the need for a Legislative solution. And they made us sound like we were gloating about winning"
I expressed my sympathy and made a few suggestions for follow-up media on the underlying issues. "By the way," I asked, "can you send over a copy of the news release you issued?"
She sent over an email with the release. The headline read, "$6.5 million verdict in [detail redacted] case."
I read further down. No mention of the policy issue. No mention of the alleged misconduct. No mention of the need for a Legislative solution. No big picture.
The release never even mentioned under what cause of action and legal theory the other party was responsible for damages. What had the other party done wrong, for goodness sake? Breach of contract? Defective product? Copyright infringement? Nothing there.
[The damages alleged by the plaintiff led me to make a private guess as to the cause of action, but nowhere was that fact stated.]
Next, a Google news search for the media hits.
Three separate people from the firm were quoted that I could find. All had different messages. One thing in common: None of the quotes from any of those quoted covered policy, misconduct, Legislative reform or big picture.
What they did mention: The size of the verdict [6 times]; How deserving they were, and their clients were, for the 'win' [5 times]; How hard they worked to get the verdict [3 times]; How awful and egregious and truly heartrending were the damages suffered by the client [3 times].
I called the attorney back and explained what I found. Her response: "Well, aren't the reporters supposed to find out all that other stuff?"
The painfully obvious answer is: "No."
You are an attorney, a legal expert. Moreover you are the attorney who handled the case.
If you cannot be bothered to translate the unfathomable gobbledygook [to a lay person] of a hard-fought litigation into three to five talking points that a journalist and the lay public can understand, who is going to do that?
No one.
A bare-bones "how to" of building a story in the media:
--Designate one person to talk to the media.
--Take the time to craft three to five talking pointsthat sum up your message. --
--Stick to those talking points.
If your message is "unjust system" then you need to say that [and support it with evidence, counselor]. If you allege misconduct then say misconduct. If your stance is that the situation that resulted in a wrongdoing or injury, and protracted litigation, is such that it merits Legislative action, say so.
If you say, "big verdict," "we won," and "we deserve the money," don't be shocked if that is exactly what you read in the paper or see on TV tonight.
If you fail to do your part then you can count on journalists to pick up on the most accessible facts [big verdict!], to dutifully repeat the points that you --the expert-- say are important [big verdict!] and to fall into predictable patterns of repeating stereotypes of litigation and the legal system [Look! Another great big verdict!!].
And whose fault is that, really?
Handling the Media --the 'parade of horribles'
These attorneys did everything wrong.
The bar official finally agreed to speak to me and another reporter about allegations of a possible scandal at the bar association.
Our publication had broken the story. The scandal had begun with some minor allegations that could have been minimized if handled properly.
But the official and his fellows had curtly stonewalled us and the media in general for weeks. Their steadfast refusal to cooperate or comment had created a "what are they hiding" question and growing concern in the effected legal community.
Now the bar officials had created an over-dramatic showdown: we the long-frustrated now-suspicious reporters on the one end of the phone versus a roomful of defensive bar officials on the other end. All on an open conference call. All on the record. All on tape. All with their prior written permission to us that everything was "on the record."
They couldn't have handled the situation worse than that. Or so we thought.
Our call went to a staff person who then placed us on speaker phone to include the bar officials and some staffers.
The call was tense. The officials were [to our ears] curt and arrogant. They lectured us. They asserted that the whole affair was merely cheap rumors circulated by yellow journalists and --in truth-- involved issues far too complex for mere reporters or the public to understand. Their advice: We really should just go away and trust them to take care of it.
They refused to answer even simple questions. They denied any wrongdoing or even honest mistakes. We were frustrated at the waste of time and their attitude. Apparently they had arranged the interview just to assure us they were all firm supporters of "Truth, Justice and The American Way."
After about fifteen minutes of this thrust-and-parry the lead bar official declared the interview completed. We were free to leave them alone now. They had spoken. The official's staffer thanked us and put her phone receiver on the cradle, "click!"
But the call was still live. The speaker phone was still turned on in that room full of bar officials.
On our end the newsroom tape recorder was still running.
We listened with amazement as the roomful of bar association officials and staffers broke out in loud self-congratulatory conversation. They laughed at having stonewalled us, and made snide comments regarding how their room full of lawyers outsmarted "those reporters." [The reporters listening on the other end were also attorneys and so this just added to the sense of amusement]
The assembled representatives of the bar association proceeded to make many statements that contradicted the statements made moments before. [Recall both the previous and current statements were made with our tape recorder rolling and their written permission to use the comments. Lovely!] They ridiculed the investigation and our publication. Eventually this cover-up coffee-clach lost steam and broke up leaving only the bar executive and his staffer.
Then the situation became even more surreal.
The bar executive and his staffer proceeded to have another enlightening conversation filled with even more and sharper critique of the reporters who were listening, as some amusing insights regarding their fellow bar officials who had just left the room.
This went on for over 20 minutes. All on tape.
On our end I brought in my editor and some other reporters to listen. All were aware of the bar association scandal and were able to appreciate the exquisite joy of listening to snide, arrogant officials involved in a cover-up admit --on tape-- to having lied to the reporters conducting the investigation while those self same reporters were taping the call.
It was an investigative reporter's wildest dream come to life.
Eventually the conversation on the other end of the line ended. The staffer picked up her phone to make another call and the line went dead.
On our end the room was filled with people sitting in stunned silence.
The rest of that unfortunate drama unfolded as you might expect and nothing good came of it for those officials or the bar association.
So. If you ever wonder "what is the worse thing that could happen" if you are not prepared for dealing with a PR crisis and handling the media --now you know.
The bar official finally agreed to speak to me and another reporter about allegations of a possible scandal at the bar association.
Our publication had broken the story. The scandal had begun with some minor allegations that could have been minimized if handled properly.
But the official and his fellows had curtly stonewalled us and the media in general for weeks. Their steadfast refusal to cooperate or comment had created a "what are they hiding" question and growing concern in the effected legal community.
Now the bar officials had created an over-dramatic showdown: we the long-frustrated now-suspicious reporters on the one end of the phone versus a roomful of defensive bar officials on the other end. All on an open conference call. All on the record. All on tape. All with their prior written permission to us that everything was "on the record."
They couldn't have handled the situation worse than that. Or so we thought.
Our call went to a staff person who then placed us on speaker phone to include the bar officials and some staffers.
The call was tense. The officials were [to our ears] curt and arrogant. They lectured us. They asserted that the whole affair was merely cheap rumors circulated by yellow journalists and --in truth-- involved issues far too complex for mere reporters or the public to understand. Their advice: We really should just go away and trust them to take care of it.
They refused to answer even simple questions. They denied any wrongdoing or even honest mistakes. We were frustrated at the waste of time and their attitude. Apparently they had arranged the interview just to assure us they were all firm supporters of "Truth, Justice and The American Way."
After about fifteen minutes of this thrust-and-parry the lead bar official declared the interview completed. We were free to leave them alone now. They had spoken. The official's staffer thanked us and put her phone receiver on the cradle, "click!"
But the call was still live. The speaker phone was still turned on in that room full of bar officials.
On our end the newsroom tape recorder was still running.
We listened with amazement as the roomful of bar association officials and staffers broke out in loud self-congratulatory conversation. They laughed at having stonewalled us, and made snide comments regarding how their room full of lawyers outsmarted "those reporters." [The reporters listening on the other end were also attorneys and so this just added to the sense of amusement]
The assembled representatives of the bar association proceeded to make many statements that contradicted the statements made moments before. [Recall both the previous and current statements were made with our tape recorder rolling and their written permission to use the comments. Lovely!] They ridiculed the investigation and our publication. Eventually this cover-up coffee-clach lost steam and broke up leaving only the bar executive and his staffer.
Then the situation became even more surreal.
The bar executive and his staffer proceeded to have another enlightening conversation filled with even more and sharper critique of the reporters who were listening, as some amusing insights regarding their fellow bar officials who had just left the room.
This went on for over 20 minutes. All on tape.
On our end I brought in my editor and some other reporters to listen. All were aware of the bar association scandal and were able to appreciate the exquisite joy of listening to snide, arrogant officials involved in a cover-up admit --on tape-- to having lied to the reporters conducting the investigation while those self same reporters were taping the call.
It was an investigative reporter's wildest dream come to life.
Eventually the conversation on the other end of the line ended. The staffer picked up her phone to make another call and the line went dead.
On our end the room was filled with people sitting in stunned silence.
The rest of that unfortunate drama unfolded as you might expect and nothing good came of it for those officials or the bar association.
So. If you ever wonder "what is the worse thing that could happen" if you are not prepared for dealing with a PR crisis and handling the media --now you know.
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