Archive for the ‘government relations’ Category

"Excited" "new" "Canadians"

It seems like just a year or so ago that Netflix found itself in the New York Times apologizing for hiring actors to pretend to be excited about the company entering the Canadian market. And didn’t the US Federal Emergency Management agency have to apologize for pretending that its own employees were journalists, when it faked a news conference? Oh yeah, they did!

But hey, those guys are amateurs. They are certainly not “Canada’s home for hard news and straight talk”, a network that is “unwavering in their commitment to uncover the real stories impacting the lives of everyday working people and their families“.

So when Sun News wants to cover a citizenship ceremony, what ends up happening? The minister’s office sends down the orders to put together a ceremony at the Sun studios (not where Elvis and Jerry Lee hung out, sadly), and when they have trouble putting together enough warm bodies to make the ceremony look legit… the ceremony gets faked, with public servants posing as new Canadians. Here’s the video, in all its cringeworthy glory. Keep in mind as you watch it, that six of these people are not “new Canadians.” They are federal employees.

I’m guessing the two small people on the end aren’t the public servants. They appear to be children, although in this topsy-turvy world who can tell? Here’s the story as reported in the Globe and Mail, obtained through Access to Information requests by the Canadian Press.

The story’s money quote:

When a bureaucrat sent Sun News a list of possible citizenship ceremonies to cover in Ontario, a network employee suggested another scenario. “Let’s do it. We can fake the Oath,” reads an email from a sunmedia.ca email address, the name blacked out of the document.

I suppose I should draw the lessons, although I can’t imagine I have to:

• Journalists shouldn’t create pseudo events or cover them as real events.
• Public servants should have more integrity.
• Hard news and straight talk don’t mix well with “Fake the Oath.”

Let’s all be a bit better than this.

UPDATE:

The political appointee Candice Malcom appeared on Sun News today to apologize for the event. Sun News host Pat Bolland claimed that they knew nothing of the fakery. For what it’s worth, I never would have suggested the strategy followed in the wake of this muffup. Here’s the video:

UPDATE 2: Sun News Network’s David Akin weighs in with his take on the event.

Tony Cement demos a new Twitter app

While politics isn’t a huge part of my business life (unlike my compatriot Mark Blevis, for example), I am an armchair political quarterback of the first water. So this post by Maclean’s magazine parliamentary correspondent and blogger Aaron Wherry really caught my eye.

Minister of Industry Tony Clement is possibly the most passionate user of Twitter within Canada’s federal cabinet (although there are others.) And he should be given credit for not cutting and running despite being in charge of some controversial files, including changes to Canada’s census, an attempted takeover of Potash Corporation by Australian firm BHP Billiton, and most recently the government’s awarding of $300 million to Pratt & Whitney Canada to assist the company in carrying out research & development on new aircraft engines.

The announcement of this funding led to some stiff media criticism, and last night, as Wherry illustrates, Minister Clement took to his Twitter account to joust with several people, including journalist Andrew Coyne and economist Stephen Gordon (who had been intensely critical of Clement’s decision to discontinue the mandatory long-form census).

Clement puts on the gloves Twitter-style

The exchange lasted about two hours and ended at about midnight. I think it’s remarkable (in a good way) that Clement is doing this. But it makes me wonder about a couple of things. The Stephen Harper government has been painted as exceedingly locked-down in terms of communication, and there has been a long history of clashes between journalists and the government. But here’s a senior cabinet minister slugging it out with a journalist and others in the public twitterverse.

So I tip my hat to Minister Clement. I think it’s great that he’s doing this. And now, some tips that I think his tweeting can teach us all:

1. Use the tool that you are comfortable with. It could be argued that a blog might be a better tool for Clement. But for whatever reason or reasons, Clement likes Twitter. So he’s using Twitter. You can’t force a minister to do stuff. But I don’t think anyone’s twisting Clement’s arm to do this. He’s engaged. So work with that.
2. Don’t cut and run when things get tough. Clement has gone through some bruiser battles on Twitter. But he’s still there, and while he may end a given exchange, he doesn’t go to ground when critics appear. You have to brace yourself for the critics and be ready to respond.
3. Remember that you control your message, no matter the medium. In the exchange from last night, Andrew Coyne presses hard for Clement to disclose departmental research. Note that Clement doesn’t say “no.” He ignores the request. He could provide it at a later time, or he might not. Or Coyne could do an Access to Information request to obtain the research.
4. Choose a medium you can communicate in. Clement appears to be a tech savvy guy; he also appears to like cut and thrust. That makes Twitter useful for him. Furthermore, he uses the shorthand and conventions of the medium to his own advantage. He shortens words, uses hashtags, etc.
5. Choose a medium that matches your urgency and frequency needs. I mentioned in tip 1 that a blog might be better for Clement in terms of putting out fleshed-out arguments. But the conversationality wouldn’t be there, and the need to polish the writing would be higher. A podcast would require some sort of equipment (even Audioboo would require a mobile device), and it doesn’t have the immediacy of a tweet.

I hope these tips are useful. If you have any more to add, please leave them in the comments.

Two Ottawa-related crisis communications stories have caught my eye in the last few days.

First, there’s a long and entirely worthwhile story in the Ottawa Citizen today about how the federal government responded to the magnitude 5.0 earthquake that hit Ottawa last June.

On June 23 at 1:41, life was proceeding in Ottawa as normal. City council was meeting, the New Democratic Party was preparing to make an announcement, people were preparing for the G8 and G20 summits in Toronto and Muskoka that were happening that weekend, etc. Then… this happened.

Buildings across the city were evacuated, and media and the public began to look for information about the earthquake.

But as Tom Spears writes in the Citizen story, precious little information was available from Canadian authorities.

Within minutes of the quake, the Earthquakes Canada web went down, quickly followed by the phone lines for public and media information.

The first government update cited news reports of the magnitude, not its own sources.

Media began to rely on the US Geological Survey, while in some cases complaining about a lack of response from Canadian government sources. People who had actually experienced the earthquake were leaving firsthand reports at the USGS site. Earthquakes Canada has the same functionality… but it was down.

An hour later, a twitterer at the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation said “Pretty sad that the traffic has totally wiped out NRCan’s earthquake site. Emergency preparedness much?”

At 4:25, a media conference call was planned. The call was scheduled for 6:00 pm. The media advisory went out … at 6:24. Only three outlets were on the call. Not surprising.

One academic claims this is a result of a general desire for control from the Prime Minister’s Office and the Privy Council Office.

The department provided a statement to Spears, telling him that improvements have been made in web functionality, and that the failures of systems seen on the 23rd had nothing to do with true emergency communications networks between agencies.

That may well be true. But as a communicator who’s dealt with a few crises and who’s prepared for a bunch that haven’t yet happened, it seems to me that there were some missteps here.

• The surge capability of the Earthquakes Canada site was obviously not there, and its phone system wasn’t sufficiently robust.
• There were far too many approvals necessary to allow seismologists to start informing media
• There weren’t pre-approved templates for crisis media advisories and the like which could have been issued without translations
• There were too many layers of approval and not enough delegation to responsible public servants

Second, the University of Ottawa had an unfortunate incident take place last week. When it was testing its emergency-notification text-messaging system, it sent a notification of a violent intruder to about 3,000 members of the university community. The message read:

“LOCKDOWN in effect! Violent aggressor {in/at XXX location}. Stop all activities. If possible, close and lock the door, and turn off lights. Silence cell phones. Keep away from doors and windows. If it is safe to do so, close blinds. Take cover and remain quiet until authorities instruct otherwise.”

A number of classrooms did exactly as the message said, until about 20 minutes later, when an all-clear message was sent. Was this a fail? I’m not sure it was. I think it’s obvious that sending out the templated message was a mistake. But there was little real harm done, and rather than reduce the credibility of the university’s emergency communications, it may have reinforced in the university community that the system will work in the event that something does happen.

To sum up the lessons that I take from this:

• Crises are going to tax all the resources of your organization. Make sure that your crisis plans assume almost total breakdown of systems and will allow you to operate with minimal functionality. One place where I was involved with crisis planning wanted to develop a “dark site” using FTP technology that would require complicated (at least to me) software and seemed to me to be almost impossible to predict would work efficiently in a real crisis. I argued for a WordPress-based site that could be updated from anywhere with Internet connectivity or from a smartphone.
• In large organizations, make sure your communication plans are shared and tested with the other key elements of the organization and that you’ll all know how to react.
• When you’re testing, it’s likely a good idea to tell people about the testing in advance. Saves a moment or two of stress.
• Have someone on your crisis team who can summon the most pessimistic scenarios you can imagine. If you prepare for the absolute worst, you’ll be better able to deal with only the moderately bad. (For some reason, I secretly love doing this type of stuff.)

And the final secret you might be interested in:

I think that while nobody wants to see a crisis or disaster happen, it can often be one of the most exciting times to be a communicator. Crises tax people’s brains and judgment to the maximum. They’re like intense workouts for the brain. And the more prepared you are for the crisis, the better you perform, and the more the experience feels rewarding rather than disheartening.

Two stories have caught my eye in the last 12 hours or so.

First, new rules that Canada’s Treasury Board (essentially, the financial management arm for government operations) has brought in regarding hospitality expenses for public servants; second, a fight between the Toronto Star and provincial public servants over reports on Internet surfing habits by provincial public servants. What do these have in common? To my mind, questionable premises and easy targets.

Let’s talk feds first. According to a story in The Globe and Mail, Treasury Board minister Stockwell Day is “tightening the leash” on public servants. The Toronto Star’s headline was “No more booze for bureaucrats.” But when you read the stories, it becomes clear that these new rules are being set out to catch a fairly small number of cases. For example, this passage from a story in the Sun chain:

QMI Agency reported earlier this year that top bureaucrats had expensed $506 on liquor during an off-site meeting and spent more than $495 on booze during a farewell reception in 2008. Although the Treasury Board’s policy was silent, deputy ministers and ministers could approve alcohol spending.

Meanwhile, a story in the National Post reported “figures released to the NDP on Wednesday show that total government spending on hospitality reached $556,880 last fiscal year, up from $435,280 the previous year.”

Hm. We have a federal budget of more than $230,000,000,000. Hm. That seems to make around 4/1000ths of one per cent of the federal budget.

And as the partner of a public servant, I can tell you a couple of things. She rarely travels. Her travel requests are usually approved by three layers of management, up to either an assistant deputy minister or the deputy minister. She’s fought — and lost — battles to offer people coffee at full-day meetings. Food? Hah. Paid venues for meetings? Don’t bother asking. While I’ve no doubt that other departments aren’t as parsimonious, I somehow doubt mimosas in the morning and martinis at lunch whilst basking in a sauna are regularly — if ever — on the menu.

For those of us inside the Queensway, this sort of rule-making seems a bit like outlawing public servants buying themselves Ferraris. Sure, we don’t WANT that to happen. But how often does it happen anyway?

Moving on to the provincial story. Apparently, the Toronto Star is wrestling with the provincial government to obtain reports into the Internet surfing habits of civil servants. According to the story,

the government has spent the better part of a year arguing that taxpayers have no right to know how much time civil servants spend on social media sites, sports and entertainment websites or trying to access websites that show porn or promote “Racism and Hate” or “Drugs.”

Keep in mind that the government of Ontario blocks social media sites like Facebook and Youtube from its networks already. The reports the Star wants to obtain are those of investigations carried out by the province’s IT security folks. So why wouldn’t the government release such reports. One reason cited is the confidentiality of HR matters. I can see that being a concern. But I suspect there’s a fear of the “GOTCHA!” story that would result: “The Toronto Star has learned that one bureaucrat spent six hours per day watching Danish pornography…”

There’s a perception that public servants at all levels have it pretty soft. The concern that I have is that stories and initiatives like this play into the hands of solidifying that perception based on some incredibly unrepresentative samples. As a communicator, I understand the power of symbols to lead. The question is: in what direction do we want these symbols to lead us?

There are certain stories that you can guarantee will get covered each year. Each February in Canada, RSP season brings stories about the lack of preparedness for retirement we Canadians are demonstrating. Each Canada Day, the Dominion Institute releases a poll that shows we Canadians don’t know our own history very well.

Every time Apple releases a new product you’ll see stories about the lineups and pictures of Steve Jobs in his turtleneck and jeans.

And at the end of March, Ontario media cover the Sunshine List. Not to be confused with the Sunshine GIRL (an exercise in a different sort of transparency), the Sunshine list was the result of a law passed in the mid-1990s by the provincial government . Pretty simple as laws go: anyone on the public payroll in the province — provincial public servants, employees of universities, colleges, towns, cities, hospitals — who makes over $100,000 gets put on the list and the employers are responsible for making the  list public by the end of March.

Back then, the Mike Harris government was in power in Ontario, and they loved the idea of populism, being in solidarity with the “little guy”, Joe Sixpack. So this sort of vague public shaming — providing a list of people who you could tsk tsk or wag a finger at — worked for them, quite nicely.

So every year, talk-radio hosts fulminate, columnists critique (Christina Blizzard: “There are 63,761 people on the provincial list this year. That’s up 10,000 over last year…April Fool’s? I guess the joke’s on us.”) and journalists write about how the ranks of the $100K earners area swelling. This Brantford Expositor editorial notes:

Five years ago, The Expositor published a local “Sunshine List” with 78 names. The list published in Saturday’s Expositor has grown to 349 names.

Here’s what I say. The Sunshine list has some serious flaws. First, $100K in 1995 is not the same as $100K today. In fact, just on inflation, it’s more like $133K. Assuming pay raises followed Canada’s inflation rate, someone making $77K in 1995 would be above $100K today just from cost-of-living. And freaking out because the list grows every year makes as much sense as freaking out because prices go up every year; that is to say, none.

Second, it doesn’t expose “fat cats” – there are all sorts of people who are normal working people who end up on this list. Police officers, firemen, bus drivers, nurses — they’re all there, mostly because they’ve worked enough overtime to hit the magic number.

Third, it doesn’t measure VALUE. The top public servant on the list is the head of Ontario Power Generation, who makes $2.5 million, apparently. What does that number tell us? Damned if I know. It’s a lot of money. Is it well spent? Does he make more than others in similar jobs? Does he outperform his compatriots?

Fourth, it reinforces our sometimes-perverse attitudes toward public-sector compensation. We pay our Prime Minister about $300,000 to run a G8 country. We pay the president of the Bruyere Continuing Care Centre $30,000 more than the PM to run an organization with 753 beds and 1,000 employees. The minimum salary for an NHL player is $450K. Formula 1 Driver Kimi Raikonnen made $45,000,000 last year (US!). Nortel‘s CEO made more than seven times as much as the PM last year.

So until we compensate people more in line with the VALUE they add to society, I humbly suggest that we kill the Sunshine list. As an exercise in effective communication about  compensation and the contribution to society, it is an utter failure.

Photo credit: Dru! on Flickr, creative-commons licensed.

Got pointed to this New York Times story via Xeni Jardin, writing in Boingboing. The gist, if you don’t want to read the whole thing, is this:

“Statements by more than a dozen lawmakers were ghostwritten, in whole or in part, by Washington lobbyists working for Genentech, one of the world’s largest biotechnology companies.

E-mail messages obtained by The New York Times show that the lobbyists drafted one statement for Democrats and another for Republicans.

The lobbyists, employed by Genentech and by two Washington law firms, were remarkably successful in getting the statements printed in the Congressional Record under the names of different members of Congress.

Genentech, a subsidiary of the Swiss drug giant Roche, estimates that 42 House members picked up some of its talking points — 22 Republicans and 20 Democrats, an unusual bipartisan coup for lobbyists.”

Now, I suppose that the folks working on behalf of Genentech likely went back to their client with huge smiles on their faces. LOOK, they likely said, at the results our efforts got for you.

Now, I’m not a lobbyist. But I guess as a PR guy, I’m sort of a kissin’ cousin to what lobbyists do. So why does this story get me down?

It seems to me that this sort of relationship between a company and elected officials isn’t good. I’m sure that members of Congress, like MPs here in Canada, are incredibly busy and pulled in a hundred directions by the issues of the day.

But it just seems to me that when these folks can’t be bothered to even ask their staff to rewrite the talking points delivered to them by someone with an obvious interest and bias, there’s something wrong with the system. Even if the only problem with this is that it makes the system look cheap and shoddy, that’s a big enough problem, I think.

Am I a traitor to PR for saying that? I dunno. I want to advocate for clients, to argue their case, to highlight the most positive attributes. But do I want to see that news release printed verbatim in the paper? Not really. And when it happens, it kinda makes me feel bad.

Am I off-base on this?

Ciao,
Bob.