Your boss and the president have made it clear that more and better regional and national publicity is a priority. As the college's public-relations officer, you take that directive seriously. After some persistence and persuasion, you manage to arrange a coveted one-on-one meeting between the president and the education editor at the major metro daily.
The day of the interview arrives, and you escort the editor to the president's office. The three of you sit down for the interview. The payoff to your effort is about to be realized: a good story, a happy president, kudos for a job well done.
But then something goes wrong. You watch in horror as the editor's eyes glaze over while the president drones on about some arcane financing arrangement. You try, without success, to steer the conversation back on track. This was supposed to be a wide-ranging discussion about the cost of a college education and the relevance of the liberal arts — a chance to showcase the college's expansive financial-aid program and its new chair in the humanities, respectively.
The next day, instead of a front-page feature on your president and institution, the college gets two paragraphs in a roundup story on Page B4 about how colleges are scrambling to meet their financial goals. Your president's name appears just once, and he or she is not even quoted. But you have some explaining to do.
Most college presidents are wonderful, talented people. But being media savvy is not necessarily in their background. They may be able to prepare a balanced, multimillion-dollar budget; and to expound on Mayan ruins or T.S. Eliot (the subject of their dissertation); and be brilliant working the crowd at the '57 alumni reunion. But it does not necessarily follow that they know how to speak effectively to a reporter. In fact, there are a number of presidential types that make PR staffs shudder:
The Mumblers. No matter where they start, their sentences inevitably trail off into nothingness. It's as if they don't believe their own words or are bored by themselves. That habit is deadly, and the ennui quickly spreads to the reporter.
The Droners. They speak in a monotone and go into minute detail, no matter how trivial the subject, and keep going long after the journalist has stopped listening. A telltale sign is when you observe reporters practicing their drawing skills rather than taking notes or when a television reporter abruptly ends the interview.
The Ramblers. This presidential type leaps from topic to topic without regard for the questions posed. A question about the humanities chair quickly turns to Thomas Jefferson, then morphs to apple growing (Jefferson, we are reminded, raised apples). From there, to integrated pest management, followed by, in a leap of logic apparent only to the speaker, the Italian river Po, recently featured in National Geographic. Fascinating as that mental meandering might be at a cocktail party, it makes the president appear scattered in the interview, and the bemused reporter long ago set down her pen or microphone.
The Cheerleaders. These presidents are so over the top in their praise for all things State U. that they lack any credibility. Unabashed boosterism does not play well in an alumni periodical, much less to a journalistic audience.
What's a poor public-relations officer to do?
Take an active role in training your president to meet the press. Of course you can't do that unless the president cooperates. Presidents must appreciate the need for media training and take it seriously. Presidential schedules are notoriously busy, and it is all too easy for them to cancel a training session if they don't truly embrace the idea. Getting them to embrace it can require diplomacy and tact since many presidents consider themselves media-ready when those of us in PR know better.
So when you pitch media training to your president, be persistent. Make the training process and goals clear — and limit the paperwork. Don't schedule more meetings than you absolutely need (one to three hourlong sessions should be adequate in most cases, with briefer role-playing meetings thereafter as specific opportunities arise), and use the time well. Part of the message of media training, after all, is to be clear and concise, and we should model that in our own communication.
It's also important to be firm. If a meeting is canceled, immediately reschedule. And make clear the costs of inadequate training. If the president is not properly prepared, all parties — the leader, the institution, you — are poorly served.
The training can be relatively simple and straightforward. Teach the president to approach reporters with a limited number of themes or potential stories about the institution. A story should meet both the institution's and the readers' needs: It's not enough that something is important to the college; it must be of genuine interest to the intended audience as well.
That is another area where some tact and resolve may be needed, as many presidents overestimate the news value of events on their campuses. Use the training time to work with the president on developing and refining the short list of stories. Don't be talked into taking a nonstory to the media.
I recommend having six stories ready to present to a reporter, and I update the list every six months. Many of the stories will remain the same upon review, but there are always a few new ones to mix in and others to discard. During the training, prioritize the list with the president. A reporter's interest may prove nonexistent in what you and the president consider to be your best story. Your president has to learn how to recognize the signs of a lack of interest and move on to the next topic.
Role-playing is critical in these training sessions. Even when the subject matter seems benign, it is important to rehearse the main points with your president so that his or her message is well articulated. In role-playing exercises, you are the reporter. So ask the tough questions, and don't allow yourself to be intimidated by an impatient or defensive president. You must give critical feedback about the president's specific answers, word choices, body language, and clothing.
It may be useful to videotape your president. When people see themselves on camera, their strengths and deficiencies become more obvious. You can also pause the tape to make a particular point, and play it back again until you are certain that your president understands.
There is no surefire, one-size-fits-all approach to media training, but there are some overarching principles:
- Don't wear loud clothing or jewelry, especially for television.
- Be conscious of your hands so that they are used for emphasis rather than serving to distract.
- Look the journalist in the eye. One president I worked with looked at people directly in the chest when speaking to them. It was very disconcerting.
- Answer a reporter's questions as best you can without feeling trapped. If a topic is raised that you don't want to discuss, you need to know how to maneuver toward an answer more in keeping with your agenda. That is not necessarily evasive. You know your subject better than the reporters, so when their questions go far afield, it is appropriate to try to bring them back.
- If you don't know the answer to a question, acknowledge that rather than try to bluff your way through, and promise to get back to the reporter in a timely manner. And mean it. The president's honesty and follow-through will be appreciated.
- Don't be afraid to admit that your college isn't perfect (that is sometimes tough for a president, whose job is to inspire others). Be prepared to offer a strategy or solution for resolving your institution's problems, but don't pretend they don't exist.
- Know something about the media company and/or the reporter doing the interview (while that is primarily the PR officer's job, it behooves a president to take the time to be informed as well). Familiarity with a journalist's work is a sign of respect. It can serve as a good icebreaker. It can also save you from a needless faux pas.
The Mumblers, the Ramblers, the Droners, and the Cheerleaders require specific training, and lots of it. In many instances, they are exhibiting deeply embedded character traits, and it may take time to overcome them. That's when your own ability to motivate and inspire may be tested, as well as your sense of humor. But the president is always the college's most influential ambassador, so putting in the time is worth it.
Finally, in training your president to go public, don't be afraid to start small. There's no substitute for experience. When was the last time your president sat down in the office of the editor of your hometown newspaper? It's not only good practice for bigger venues, it's simply good public relations.
Always travel to the local newspaper, radio, or television station — not the other way around. Keep your story list in mind, but don't go in feeling as if you have to pitch one. See it simply as an opportunity to build community relations and provide deep background about your institution. If your story proposals are good ones, the rest will take care of itself. Help keep the conversation on track, and jump in if your president strays or stumbles.
Evaluate the interview on your ride back to the campus. Remind the president that much of what results is beyond your control, but good preparation is your best defense against inaccurate or unflattering stories.
