Sunday, August 30, 2015

"Communicating Something Larger"

A new book on the trials and tribulations of speechwriting recently hit the book stores. Appropriately called "The Speechwriter," author Barton Swaim talks about his time writing speeches and talking points for then-Governor of South Carolina Mark Sanford. Sanford, who currently is serving as a member of Congress, gained national recognition - and was the brunt of a lot of late-night talk show jokes - for the time he told everyone, including his staff and family, he was going hiking along the Appalachian Trail when, in fact, he was flying down to Argentina to visit his mistress. It did not end well for him. Swaim was his speech writer when all this happened.


One part of the book that struck me was a particular conversation between Swaim and Sanford when Sanford discussed his desire to "communicate something larger." As someone who has given talks before various audiences as well as written remarks for others to make before an array of people, I can completely relate to Sanford's wish. All of us, I believe, want to say things that are profound, have impact and, ultimately, are remembered. Writers, without question, want to write "large" in the sense that their words will live far beyond the seconds it takes one to read and/or hear them. Such a desire revolves around our own hope of being remembered beyond our time.


The truth, of course, is that this rarely, if ever, happens. How many writers, for instance, have penned something as lasting and memorable as "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."? How many of us have articulated a concept that comes even close to "......to hold these truths self-evident that all men are created equal......"? These are examples of "large" writing. Is such a phenomenon  a fluke? Yes and no. Yes, in the same sense a winning lottery ticket is. But, no, in the sense that for the winning ticket to appear, we first much purchase it. In other words, communicating "large" requires constant effort.


    







Wednesday, August 26, 2015

One More Purpose of Writing

Traditionally, the act of writing has been viewed as a way of recording past events and sharing information. Certainly there is no denying the logic of such a conclusion. After all, anything most any of us read contains tidbits that help expand our own knowledge base. Earlier in his career, however, the late anthropologist Claude Levi-Srauss, identified by many as "the father of modern anthropologist," concluded that writing has had another significant purpose: the exploitation of human beings rather than the enlightenment of them. (This is discussed in a fine new book by scholar Matthew Battles called "Palimpsest.")


Levi-Strauss made this observation while connecting with natives as he and his group traveled down the Amazon River. The chief of one particular tribe, he noticed, mimicked the note taking that Levi-Strauss was doing by making his own scribble marks on various pieces of paper. The scribbles were just that. They were not words or sentences or even drawings. Rather, according to the anthropologist, the actions of the chief represented his attempt to further solidify his authority over his tribe and make them believe he was pretending to communicate in this manner as a way to "facilitate slavery."


For me, such an observation adds a unique dimension to this form of communication that I had never considered. Man's early sounds were often inarticulate grunts. Words, on the other hand, represented - and still do - an attempt of establishing order in how and what one communicates with another. The tribal chief that Levi-Strauss observed used his so-called ability to write in order to impress his followers and reaffirm the notion that he, and only he, was able to communicate at this higher level. Thus, the members of the tribe were wise to continue to support his position of power. This is very much in-keeping with how many of us in today's world defer to those who write books even if what they put-down on paper is little more than scribble.  

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Unnatural Act

Each day all of us wake, we are driven by one fundamental goal: to survive. We want to get through the day. Of course, we want our day to go well; we want to have fun; we want to achieve an assortment of goals; we want to feel good about ourselves; and we want to feel good about ourselves. While all these and perhaps other objectives are worthy and universal, they represent add-ons to the one basic goal that serves as the primary force that compels us to put one foot in front of the other: survive. To live. All of us are born and devote each day, save for some type of mental and/or emotional trauma, to doing all we can to keep that going for as long as we can.


Such a truism represents a basic truth about us: we are driven by what is best for us. Each of our days and the actions we take within him are fundamentally shaped by our need to do what is best for us. In other words, each days our number one priority is us. This, I should note, does not make us bad. Simply, it makes us who and even what we are. What, then, does this have to do with effective communication and the field of public relations? In a nutshell, those who fancy themselves as being professionals in the communication business function in a way that runs counter to the bottom-line truth about us as living beings.


Those in public relations do what they can on behalf of others. Their goal is to help others meet their goals. Yes, they put forth their recommendations and suggestions, but the client, ultimately, tells them what they want for "me" and the public relations practitioner then devotes their energy toward carrying out the client's wishes. In reference to communicating effectively, the challenge revolves around how well one listens and relates to those with whom they are speaking. The kind of selfless acts taken by professional communicators are not easy as they go against our own instinctive motivating forces. One could even go as far as to say they are unnatural.




Monday, August 3, 2015

Mother Hen

Few of us like walking into most any situation unprepared. What are people going to be talking about? What is going to be expected of me? Am I going to have to talk? If so, what should I focus on? Who else is going to be there? What are there backgrounds? These are just a few of the many questions that pop their heads out of the ground whenever we find ourselves looking ahead to an upcoming event or meeting we are scheduled to attend. In many cases, they are very basic questions that by themselves may not seem all that vital. Collectively, however, they can often spell the difference between confident and making a good impression and not.


Not surprisingly, often times chief executives and other leading administrators and officers find themselves about to participate in some sort of activity but lack all the necessary background information they need to feel at-ease in terms of their own performance and how well they represent their company or organization. One of the vital roles of any public relations worker is to help give the "big boss" greater peace-of-mind during these times. They do this by anticipating those kind of basic questions, producing answers to them, and then reviewing them with the executive so they will be better able to do well.


At these times, the public relations worker takes on the role of "mother hen." They are very protective of their boss because they know if the boss does well, is satisfied and feeling secure, then it will bode well for all who report to them. Also, it enhances the image of the organization, which is a leading goal for any public relations professional in their efforts to promote a client. Taking on the role of the executive's protector is not always easy. One does not want to be overprotective where the executive feels as if they are being manipulated or used. Being a good protector requires establishing a viable working relationship with the executive. Establishing such a positive connection benefits everyone within the organization.