What does it all mean?

With Christmas approaching faster than the sales (I hope), the meaning of what Christmas is actually all about may start to engage some people who don't usually care about such things.

Even those who wouldn’t call themselves ‘religious’ use the festive period for a bit of reflection, even if it’s only after too much to eat and drink and relates to New Year resolutions.

But while the festive season may give some people pause for thought, as communicators, perhaps we need to ask what we really mean when we communicate anything. Often the pressure of deadlines means that we don’t give our communications too much thought; we just get on with it and get it out there.

Sometimes what we have to say is designed to grab attention at a more visceral or emotional level and perhaps we feel that’s where the creative impulse needs to come from, too. But I think that a bit of serious thought, even a little bit, about what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and who we’re doing it for, will be worth it in the end.

If you’ve ever seen the detailed notebooks of a creative genius like Leonardo da Vinci, you’ll know that there was a man whose thoughts were as active as his feelings and who planned his artistic works every bit as meticulously as his scientific inventions.

A senior detective I knew used to talk about the need for ‘lazer vision’ as he encouraged his staff to think through the use of every bit of evidence they collected; how would it stack up in court? How will you present it? Does it have weaknesses? To win a case, he and his team needed to ensure that everything they did was focused on the aim of ensuring a successful prosecution.

I think these are lessons for all walks of life, and for communications the need to have the end in mind is a very useful one. What am I producing this for? What do I want recipients to think or feel when they receive it? Questions like these at the very start of a project are never wasted. They needn’t take up too much time, but ignoring them might cost you a lot more in the long run.

Why publicity isn’t always a good thing

When Kazakhstan's president, Nursultan Nazarbayev, attended a Downing Street press conference recently, he could have guessed what was coming.

While Kazakhstan is regarded as key to securing Britain's future energy supplies, it was the film Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, that everyone wanted to ask about.

So what did the president make of it? In an admirable touch of down to earth, realism far removed from some of the po-faced reaction to the film, he said: "The film was created by a comedian so let's laugh at it - that's my attitude."

Such restraint is surprising, as the film features a spoof Kazakh TV reporter, played by Sacha Baron Cohen, apparently employed by the country's government to make a documentary on America. Borat is racist, sexist and violent – and depicts ‘his’ country as being the same.

But laughing off the furore, which has seen the film banned in Russia and the production company sued by a number of the duped participants, Mr Nazarbayev saw the positive side, commenting "any publicity is good publicity" - and invited journalists to pay a visit to find out what the place is really like.

He made the point that his country is unknown in the west, and that the film, which has topped the box office in the US and UK, has helped to put Kazakhstan on the map.

So is it unremitting good news? While the reality of hard headed investment decisions will carry on regardless of the film, the hick view of the country exemplified by Borat is going to be pretty hard to shake off. When Gerald Ratner famously called most of jewellery products ‘crap’ many years ago, the company never recovered.

And yet, this is different. Kazakhstan never had a reputation to speak of in the west before Borat, but now it is at least on the radar. And in this country at least, Sacha Baron Cohen’s blackly comic creations are well known. Perhaps it’s the United States that needs to worry.

I doubt, however, that many companies could stand down such an unremittingly negative portrayal and not be damaged. The film Supersize Me led to McDonald’s changing its menu and fighting back with a multi-million pound ‘make up your own mind’ campaign, something that a company of its size can afford.

But for the rest of us, such damage to our reputation would be very hard to recover from and such ‘publicity’ is best avoided at all costs.

Someone once said that the best way to kill a bad product is through excellent advertising, as more people will find out how bad it is. It’s best to ensure that you manage your reputation in the first place, so that exposure to that kind of coverage doesn’t happen to you.

Runny that one by me again…

I’m trained to teach English as a foreign language and I understand how tough it is to understand all the nuances and subtleties of spoken and written English.

Of course, if you know nothing else of a language, then knowing a few key words can help you get by, with the help of some pointing and gesturing.

Often, though, it’s at that in-between stage, when you know more than a few words and have a rudimentary grasp of the grammar, when hilarious mistakes can be made.

In Italy, I once mistakenly said gnocchi (dumplings) instead of ginocchi (knees) - with predictably embarrassing results!

A great book by Charlie Croker, Lost in translation, published last month (see http://www.michaelomarabooks.com) has collected together examples of mistranslations into English from around the world. Some of my favourites include:

Four people were killed, one seriously (from a Japanese newspaper)
Sorry, we’re open (sign in a Mexican bar)
We highly recommend the hotel tart (hotel in Torremolinos)
And the Indonesian ‘Someday laundry service’

But while those of us who are English native speakers can laugh knowingly at these mistakes, the Chinese government for one isn’t seeing the funny side. As they gear up to host the 2008 Olympics, the authorities in Beijing are determined to stamp out examples of ‘Chinglish’ as its know. See: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/6052800.stm. You can see some good examples of the kind of thing it means here http://www.flickr.com/groups/chinglish/. My particular favourite is the hotel that had complimentary (free) items, such as ‘complimentary shampoo’, and those for sale, including boxer shorts, labelled ‘uncomplimentary underpants’.

But you don’t have to travel thousands of miles to see such linguistic cock-ups. Not far from me, a sign in someone’s front door exhorts ‘no moor junk mail’ (something against Turkish people?) while a sign in one establishment offers fish and chip’s (the perennial apostrophe problem).

Does it matter, as long as you get the gist? Maybe not in a doorway, but if you’re in business, it doesn’t send out a brilliant message if you can’t get the basics right. While getting lost in translation is understandable, losing your way in your own language demands a road map – and someone who can read it for you.

Spending a penny on good design

I’m currently having my website redesigned.
I sometimes travel up to London from the south coast.

The reason these two things are connected is that both have made me think about the utility of design.

My new site should be up before Christmas, and while I want it to be distinctive and stand out, there are some conventions that I’m not going to break, one of them being that you go ‘home’ by clicking in the top left, and/or clicking on the company logo. Change that convention at your peril. If all else is lost, you can always go home – like the breadcrumbs left by Hansel and Gretal. People look for a home page link top left like they look for a ‘contact’ link in the menu, so they can easily find a telephone number or e-mail address.

Which brings me to South West Trains.

The trains from Portsmouth to Waterloo are generally clean and certainly appear to keep time better than the days when I was a regular commuter.

These trains have rather flash loos – you push a button and the door slides open. So far, so good. Users then go inside and look behind the door for the lock – the conventional place to put it. But they can’t find it, because it isn’t there. Just inside the door is the emergency button (an updated version of the red cord). It takes a bit of looking around to find that the 'close' and 'lock' buttons are facing you on the opposite wall when you come in.

Why change a convention?

Several years ago a London estate agent started putting up ‘For Sale’ boards that didn’t say ‘for sale’ at all. They said ‘now available’ and ‘on the market’. Why? It wasn’t recognisable from a distance; it was an attempt to differentiate themselves, but it just made them look daft. Last time I looked, their boards said ‘For Sale’ again.

Of course, innovation can be a fantastic thing – see http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/click_online/6047600.stm for some pretty amazing product ideas. But for some things – and spending a penny is one of them – keeping it simple is often the best way.

On the way to survey heaven

The media have always liked a good survey. In one ‘quality’ national newspaper on one day this week, the following stories made the paper:

Internet crime eclipses burglary in survey of perceived risks (a sample of 1,317 adults with internet access to launch ‘Get Safe Online Week’)

Iron chain links smoking and poverty (academic research comparing deprivation, smoking rates and the proportion of income spent on tobacco for the charity Action on Smoking and Health)

And last, and probably least…

Thierry factor scores with British fans of France (a survey of 1,010 people to launch ‘French Wines Week’, showing our apparent fascination for all things French)

Why did these reach the survey heaven of making it into a national newspaper, when almost certainly a number of others didn’t?

A bit like many of the surveys that do make it, the answer is not scientific but a combination of accident, the interests of the news editor, what else is happening that day and many other factors that are difficult to control.

But there are some things that can help to increase the chances of getting media exposure for your particular piece of research.

The first example above is topical and has a clear top line message – so clear in this case that it made the headline.

The second example is based on credible sources and data for a credible organisation, gives a geographical breakdown (excellent for local/regional media) and has an important subject – health and smoking – which is also topical because of the impending pub smoking ban.

The third example also has topicality (second homes in France) and involves celebrities in the findings - the Da Vinci Code film stars, Audrey Tautou and Jean Reno, and other French stars like Thierry Henry)

Of course, some news editors are more discerning than others.

Another successful survey – as highlighted by PR Week – was for The Bereavement Register, which removes people’s names from direct mail databases.

This highlighted the songs most requested at funerals – something that affects all families at some point (relevance to people’s lives), but is also a bit quirky and has picture potential (photos of celebrities).

The sample size, while important for credibility, certainly isn’t always the deciding factor if an editor thinks the subject matter is interesting, funny or important enough.

Of course, some surveys are completely daft or self evident - nine out of ten mechanics say your car needs a service, or 95% of psychiatrists reckon you need therapy, for example (alright, I made those up, but you get the idea).

And there’s a lot of scepticism out there as well as a lot of competition. So if you’re going to do a survey with the aim of getting media attention, try to ensure you have a few of the factors listed here, because if you don’t, your budget might be better spent on some other kind of PR or marketing.

Should you eat humble pie?

Being humble isn’t a quality normally associated with people in the communications business. While there are a lot of women in PR and marketing, it’s sometimes the more macho virtues that tend to predominate.

Alastair Campbell’s brand of aggressive media management may have been required to keep the Lobby’s attack dogs at bay – and the government’s message consistent – but it’s not an approach that will work in every environment.

Could a humble attitude be an approach that more people in the business need to cultivate?

Definitions of ‘humility’ include being ‘aware of one’s failings,’ and ‘unpretentious’ – not exactly everyone’s idea of the PR industry, know-it-all journalists or marketers trying to drum up demand for, well, anything.

And of course, popular culture is against it, too. If the plethora of ‘celebrity’ obsessed magazines had indexes, it would be an odds-on bet that ‘humility’ wouldn’t feature. Ever.

In politics, too, the focus seems to be on making decisions and sticking with them, even if the evidence is against you. When a politician’s back is against the wall, the stock response is often (a) blame someone else, (b) deny there’s a problem, or (c) come out fighting. No scintilla of doubt is allowed.

So what about when things are going well? In the UK, we’re sometimes perceived as far too self-effacing when compared with American colleagues; of not shouting our achievements from the roof-tops or ensuring we get the credit.

But I believe there are limits to this approach. Anything that seems high-handed or arrogant is likely to be counter-productive, and in a business where trust and confidence are essential, that’s never a good idea.

Of course, the communications industry doesn’t have a monopoly on perceived arrogance or pretentiousness; at different times, doctors and lawyers have had an image problem, being seen as overweening and greedy.

But does anyone, in any profession, really know everything? Even brain surgeons and cosmologists would agree that they only know a very small proportion of their respective subject matters. So is an awareness of our own shortcomings not something we should admit to?

That’s a tricky one. When you sell communications services, it’s hard to admit ‘actually, I’m not really sure,’ as the client – or potential client - expects you to know; that’s what they’re paying for.

In-house, too, someone in a comms role may be reluctant to admit to a lack of knowledge, thinking that they should know – and other people expecting them to.

One aspect of communications where a bit of humility is definitely required is in internal and stakeholder communications. Like sales, the mantra ‘the customer is always right’ means having to engage with opinions that you believe are misguided, misjudged or just plain wrong. And yet, if you’re consulting with a group pf people, asking their opinions and promising to take them into account, then you have to take the knocks.

A thick skin is, of course, useful here, but cultivation of a bit more humility may help to stop the vain ego getting in the way all the time and taking everything so personally.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen? This business is rarely, if ever, a matter of life and death

Promises, promises

Can you keep a promise?

Like keeping secrets, keeping promises seems to carry a lot of weight with young children in the playground, who quickly learn who their friends are. But in the swings and roundabouts of corporate life, keeping promises is important with knobs on, as failing to do so is likely to have a negative impact on a brand’s or company’s reputation. An organisation that can’t be trusted is unlikely to be an organisation that will thrive.

And yet how many companies can put their many hands on their hidden hearts and say, yes, categorically, we keep our promises? When I worked for the Advertising Standards Authority, some big name brands were regularly ruled against for breaching the self regulatory advertising codes, producing ads that fell short of the requirement for ‘honest’ or ‘’truthful’ commercial communications.

But I wonder if these famous names have suffered any lasting damage as a result? I’m not sure there’s any evidence to say they have, although brand managers may be looking nervously over their shoulder if senior executives haven’t bought in to an ad that incurs the ASA’s censor.

Unfavourable word of mouth may, of course, be aggravated by negative press, which if prolonged can lead to a long-term problem for any company, possibly placing it at a competitive disadvantage. Many organisations take this very seriously and are assiduous in monitoring and evaluating their media coverage to identify problems and issues. Of course, such good practice is only of value if the information is acted upon in support of crisis, issues and scenario planning and is used to develop a strategic approach to communications.

Going back to promises, they can, of course, be made at any level of an organisation. This summer, I flew twice with British Airways out of and back into Gatwick. On each occasion, the luggage from the flight was late and each time there were announcements apologising for a ‘shortfall’ of their own baggage pickers (which I think means they didn’t have enough people).

While I’m sure the announcements were made in good faith in a laudable effort to keep already delayed passengers informed, it’s here that things started to go wrong. Hopes were raised when we were told that the pickers were at the ‘plane and our luggage was ‘imminent’. After a while we were told it was ‘ten minutes away’. Then, after about 15 minutes, we were promised a further update ‘as soon as we can’.

Oh dear. About 45 minutes after the initial ‘it’ll be with you in ten minutes’ announcement, our luggage duly arrived to be collected by a very hacked off group of travellers.

Has BA’s reputation suffered in my eyes? Yes, the management failing of not having enough staff on shift was compounded by announcements that raised and then dashed our expectations. Some passengers were hoping not to have to spend the night at the airport because they risked missing the last train home.

Will I fly with BA again? Almost certainly, so long as the destination and the price are right. Two poor experiences at the end of my flights aren’t enough to put me off completely. In the great scheme of things, the broken promise of my luggage arriving in ten minutes is small compared to the bigger promise of BA delivering me safely where I wanted to go.

So there seems to be a hierarchy of promises. Break a big one and it could be curtains; break a small one and you may be alright – but break a small one again and again and you could be toast, it’s just that the grill’s not on very high just yet.