For the year 2010, Resolved:
I will no longer insist on being innovative for clients who merely want the same old thing. (And, hopefully, I will no longer sign clients who want the same old thing.)
I will only give “bonus” hours to those clients who really appreciate them…and me.
I will continue to keep learning and keep thinking and keep discussing, in a constant endeavor to be the best that I can at my craft.
I will keep fighting for the integrity of the profession in which I’ve spent the past 21 years.
I will never stop asking “Why,” or “Why not?”
I will always remember that, in our profession – especially at the beginning of a relationship – listening is more important than talking.
I will always continue pushing for a “seat at the table” for PR professionals. And I will always continue to point out that, had we been given such a seat, some of the incredibly-stupid business mistakes of the past few years might never have occurred.
When I do my 6 a.m. run every morning, I will spend more time listening to the birds and the ducks all around me, instead of thinking.
I will spend more time listening to my daughters – 15 and 21 – and less time lecturing.
During our once-a-month disagreements, I will try harder to understand my wife’s point of view.
I will spend more time thinking about what I have, instead of what I want.
I won’t scream as loud at the TV when our beloved – but mediocre – Florida Panthers hockey team is playing.
I will spend less time watching college football. (OK, that one’s not quite true. Hey, you’ve got to allow me one or two broken resolutions!)
Happy New Year!
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
www.winstoncommunications.com
steve@winstoncommunications.com
(954) 575-4089
Showing posts with label clients. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clients. Show all posts
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
FLYING BY THE SEAT OF OUR PANTS
I fly by the seat of my pants. Literally.
I love to fly old World War II fighter planes, and to perform aeronautic “combat” maneuvers. I’m not the most experienced pilot. So, sometimes I find myself…flying by the seat of my pants.
Just about everyone in the public relations profession, in this brave new world, finds him/herself flying by the seat of their pants far more often than they’d like. In fact, there are a number of parallels…
The engine jumps to life, 600 ancient horses raring to go. I check the harnesses that feel like a ton on my torso, and I check the ripcord on my parachute.
I’m sitting in a sixty-four-year-old fighter plane from World War II, an AT-6, nicknamed “The Texan” by the cocky young pilots who flew her in combat. The “dashboard” is wood, and the cockpit instruments look like they’re out of a Humphrey Bogart movie. And I’m going to do some stunts, in tandem with Dennis Van Swol, the vastly-more experienced pilot who’s sitting behind me.
As we turn onto the runway, Dennis and I make our final check.
“Mixture is rich,” my headphones cackle as we converse back and forth. “Fuel-air ratio is good. Flaps are set. Pressure looks good...”
“The Texan departing on 8 right,” I call out to other air traffic on the radio. I open up the throttle and we gather speed. The nose is so high in these old planes that you can’t really see the runway. So, in effect, we take off and land by “touch.”
In a moment the ground is falling away, and the big yellow nose with the whirling propeller is pushing us up into a sea of blue. I pull up the landing gear.
As we climb, we begin dipping toward the right and then the left; the view becomes incredible. We head up toward puffy white clouds, and the ride turns bumpy.
“Now we’re going to do a few combat maneuvers,” Dennis says, “so you can get a feel for the aircraft.” With that he goes into a steep climb, and then a dive, and I try to imagine how it must have felt doing that with a Japanese Zero or German Messerschmitt trying to shoot you out of the sky. Then he turns the aircraft on its side, and we rip through the South Florida sky at a 180-degree angle.
Our headphones cackle with communications from all sorts of aircraft; North Palm Beach County Airport has no tower, so it’s up to the pilots to stay in touch with each other. Then we’re above the clouds, and suddenly it’s smooth.
“Now let’s do a roll,” he says. (A roll is a sideways somersault.)
Suddenly sky becomes land and land becomes sky, and clouds flash by as if on rollerblades. My head is below my body, and my hands are holding onto the balky control stick…from below it. We’re completely upside-down. Then we roll over to right ourselves.
Now it’s my turn to solo.
I hit the pedal on the extreme right of the wooden floor, forcing the nose down to gather up more speed. The ground seems to fly up toward me. Then I shove her into a climb. With the headphones cackling with Dennis’ voice and other traffic in the area, I grab the stick and pull it towards the right. And there we go…hurtling over the side at two hundred miles an hour. Again my head is suddenly under the rest of my body, with clouds flying by - below me.
I have to fight the stick a bit, as it’s difficult to hold her steady. Suddenly we’re rightside-up again. I ease up on the stick.
A minute later, I decide it’s time for a loop (backwards somersault).
I turn the nose down to pick up some speed. Then I yank it back up and climb straight up. This, by far, is the beginning of the most thrilling moment of the entire flight. A steep climb is murder on the body, and even more murderous on your mind. Normally, in an airplane, your fixed points are the land below you and the sky above and around you. Even though you’re up in the air, there’s a natural order of things, some physiological steering points. But when you’re in a steep climb, suddenly the land is gone, and you’re totally disoriented. Instead of a balance between land and sky, you’re heading straight up into an endless blue vacuum, with no horizon, no beginning, and no end.
I pull the stick toward me, and the old engine whines loudly. The ground disappears as we climb. Then I begin to flip her over, backwards. I feel my body pinned back against my seat, and my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds (actually, in pilot-speak, I’m experiencing pressure of three “G’s). For a moment, I’m totally disoriented; I’ve lost any “compass point” in the sky or the land. I have no clear idea as to what’s “up” and what’s “down.” I literally cannot hold my head up, because of the pressure. I’m having trouble keeping my eyelids open. Upside-down images of blue and green and white are whooshing past me.
“Yee haw!” I shout out into the headphones, probably way too loudly for poor Dennis.
At that moment, it’s almost a test. You find yourself fighting for control…of the aircraft as well as yourself. And if you don’t remain calm, you’ll become ever more disoriented.
I hold her steady, fighting to keep the stick where it is. Finally, I see the ground floating up toward my face, and I begin to level her off.
“Want to try it again?” he asks.
“Yee haw!” I respond.
Again I point the nose down into a dive to get up some speed, and then pull back on the stick as I struggle to keep my eyes open from the pressure. Again we shoot up into a blue vacuum. Again we start rolling backwards and over our heads. And again I am upside-down, with colors and shapes and textures whooshing by underneath me, with the engines straining and the cockpit shaking. It almost seems like too much for the human brain to handle at once.
But when the land rolls back into view below us as we complete our circle, the feeling is one of incredible exhilaration.
As our radio cackles with transmissions from other aircraft in the area, Dennis says that it’s time to begin our descent. We go into a sideways roll – 180 degrees – and, as we pass through a cloud bank, we see a rainbow. I turn the controls back over to Dennis so I can look at it. We descend rapidly.
“North County Texan on its approach to 8 right,” I tell nearby air traffic.
We hit the runway. And as we slow down, I think of the pilot, sixty-four years ago, who sat in the seat where I’m sitting now.
So…how does this story relate to public relations? Well, the simplistic answer would be that we’re all, now, flying by the seat of our pants. But I think there are more practical correlations, as well…
* Always wear a parachute. And always check the ripcord. In PR terms, be prepared.
Make sure you have what you need in case of an emergency. And rehearse ahead of
time, in your mind, what you’ll do in case of emergency.
* If the ride’s a little bumpy, find a different altitude…think about what you can
do to make it smoother.
* Stay informed about the surrounding “traffic.” About your clients’ industries.
About their “flight plans. About their internal structures.
* Even when you feel like you’re flying upside-down, and things are whirling past
you at the speed of light, stay calm. And think clearly about your next step.
* Don’t be afraid to do loops and rolls…to experiment.
* When you lose your orientation – your “compass points” - don’t panic. Just find
some new ones.
* Sometimes things are not always obvious. So practice the art of taking off and
landing “by touch.”
* Don’t panic at the thought of flying by the seat of your pants. In our profession,
it’s becoming the norm.
And lastly, perhaps, when everyone around you seems to be losing their heads…shout out “Yee haw!” It’s going to be a very interesting ride.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
I love to fly old World War II fighter planes, and to perform aeronautic “combat” maneuvers. I’m not the most experienced pilot. So, sometimes I find myself…flying by the seat of my pants.
Just about everyone in the public relations profession, in this brave new world, finds him/herself flying by the seat of their pants far more often than they’d like. In fact, there are a number of parallels…
The engine jumps to life, 600 ancient horses raring to go. I check the harnesses that feel like a ton on my torso, and I check the ripcord on my parachute.
I’m sitting in a sixty-four-year-old fighter plane from World War II, an AT-6, nicknamed “The Texan” by the cocky young pilots who flew her in combat. The “dashboard” is wood, and the cockpit instruments look like they’re out of a Humphrey Bogart movie. And I’m going to do some stunts, in tandem with Dennis Van Swol, the vastly-more experienced pilot who’s sitting behind me.
As we turn onto the runway, Dennis and I make our final check.
“Mixture is rich,” my headphones cackle as we converse back and forth. “Fuel-air ratio is good. Flaps are set. Pressure looks good...”
“The Texan departing on 8 right,” I call out to other air traffic on the radio. I open up the throttle and we gather speed. The nose is so high in these old planes that you can’t really see the runway. So, in effect, we take off and land by “touch.”
In a moment the ground is falling away, and the big yellow nose with the whirling propeller is pushing us up into a sea of blue. I pull up the landing gear.
As we climb, we begin dipping toward the right and then the left; the view becomes incredible. We head up toward puffy white clouds, and the ride turns bumpy.
“Now we’re going to do a few combat maneuvers,” Dennis says, “so you can get a feel for the aircraft.” With that he goes into a steep climb, and then a dive, and I try to imagine how it must have felt doing that with a Japanese Zero or German Messerschmitt trying to shoot you out of the sky. Then he turns the aircraft on its side, and we rip through the South Florida sky at a 180-degree angle.
Our headphones cackle with communications from all sorts of aircraft; North Palm Beach County Airport has no tower, so it’s up to the pilots to stay in touch with each other. Then we’re above the clouds, and suddenly it’s smooth.
“Now let’s do a roll,” he says. (A roll is a sideways somersault.)
Suddenly sky becomes land and land becomes sky, and clouds flash by as if on rollerblades. My head is below my body, and my hands are holding onto the balky control stick…from below it. We’re completely upside-down. Then we roll over to right ourselves.
Now it’s my turn to solo.
I hit the pedal on the extreme right of the wooden floor, forcing the nose down to gather up more speed. The ground seems to fly up toward me. Then I shove her into a climb. With the headphones cackling with Dennis’ voice and other traffic in the area, I grab the stick and pull it towards the right. And there we go…hurtling over the side at two hundred miles an hour. Again my head is suddenly under the rest of my body, with clouds flying by - below me.
I have to fight the stick a bit, as it’s difficult to hold her steady. Suddenly we’re rightside-up again. I ease up on the stick.
A minute later, I decide it’s time for a loop (backwards somersault).
I turn the nose down to pick up some speed. Then I yank it back up and climb straight up. This, by far, is the beginning of the most thrilling moment of the entire flight. A steep climb is murder on the body, and even more murderous on your mind. Normally, in an airplane, your fixed points are the land below you and the sky above and around you. Even though you’re up in the air, there’s a natural order of things, some physiological steering points. But when you’re in a steep climb, suddenly the land is gone, and you’re totally disoriented. Instead of a balance between land and sky, you’re heading straight up into an endless blue vacuum, with no horizon, no beginning, and no end.
I pull the stick toward me, and the old engine whines loudly. The ground disappears as we climb. Then I begin to flip her over, backwards. I feel my body pinned back against my seat, and my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds (actually, in pilot-speak, I’m experiencing pressure of three “G’s). For a moment, I’m totally disoriented; I’ve lost any “compass point” in the sky or the land. I have no clear idea as to what’s “up” and what’s “down.” I literally cannot hold my head up, because of the pressure. I’m having trouble keeping my eyelids open. Upside-down images of blue and green and white are whooshing past me.
“Yee haw!” I shout out into the headphones, probably way too loudly for poor Dennis.
At that moment, it’s almost a test. You find yourself fighting for control…of the aircraft as well as yourself. And if you don’t remain calm, you’ll become ever more disoriented.
I hold her steady, fighting to keep the stick where it is. Finally, I see the ground floating up toward my face, and I begin to level her off.
“Want to try it again?” he asks.
“Yee haw!” I respond.
Again I point the nose down into a dive to get up some speed, and then pull back on the stick as I struggle to keep my eyes open from the pressure. Again we shoot up into a blue vacuum. Again we start rolling backwards and over our heads. And again I am upside-down, with colors and shapes and textures whooshing by underneath me, with the engines straining and the cockpit shaking. It almost seems like too much for the human brain to handle at once.
But when the land rolls back into view below us as we complete our circle, the feeling is one of incredible exhilaration.
As our radio cackles with transmissions from other aircraft in the area, Dennis says that it’s time to begin our descent. We go into a sideways roll – 180 degrees – and, as we pass through a cloud bank, we see a rainbow. I turn the controls back over to Dennis so I can look at it. We descend rapidly.
“North County Texan on its approach to 8 right,” I tell nearby air traffic.
We hit the runway. And as we slow down, I think of the pilot, sixty-four years ago, who sat in the seat where I’m sitting now.
So…how does this story relate to public relations? Well, the simplistic answer would be that we’re all, now, flying by the seat of our pants. But I think there are more practical correlations, as well…
* Always wear a parachute. And always check the ripcord. In PR terms, be prepared.
Make sure you have what you need in case of an emergency. And rehearse ahead of
time, in your mind, what you’ll do in case of emergency.
* If the ride’s a little bumpy, find a different altitude…think about what you can
do to make it smoother.
* Stay informed about the surrounding “traffic.” About your clients’ industries.
About their “flight plans. About their internal structures.
* Even when you feel like you’re flying upside-down, and things are whirling past
you at the speed of light, stay calm. And think clearly about your next step.
* Don’t be afraid to do loops and rolls…to experiment.
* When you lose your orientation – your “compass points” - don’t panic. Just find
some new ones.
* Sometimes things are not always obvious. So practice the art of taking off and
landing “by touch.”
* Don’t panic at the thought of flying by the seat of your pants. In our profession,
it’s becoming the norm.
And lastly, perhaps, when everyone around you seems to be losing their heads…shout out “Yee haw!” It’s going to be a very interesting ride.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
Sunday, July 26, 2009
I'M UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE WORD "PITCHING"
I DON'T LIKE THE WORD “PITCHING!”
By Steve Winston
www.winstoncommunications.com
Sometimes I think we demean our profession – and ourselves – when we use the word “pitching.” And I think that's particularly true these days, when there are more self-centered voices than ever screaming for attention from the precious few journalists who still have jobs.
Maybe it’s because I started out as a reporter…and I still vividly recall those 3 a.m. calls from the City Desk to run out to the scene of a murder or a fire or a tornado or an alligator attack (I live in South Florida). And maybe it’s because I still recall being pretty much the only one driving on the dark roads at that hour of the morning…and the awesome responsibility I felt about providing accurate and insightful coverage for my readers.
I’ve now been in PR and marketing for twenty years. And – although I, too, am sometimes guilty of using the term “pitching” – I’m very uncomfortable with it. That’s because - probably due to my background – I tend to view journalists as partners. I respect the work they do. I respect their needs. I respect that “awesome responsibility” that most of them, believe it or not, still feel. And I don’t see them as faceless enablers whom I should try to manipulate into publishing something about how wonderful my clients are.
I see myself as being in symbiotic relationships with them; relationships in which the back-scratching doesn’t only go one way. I believe that if I help them, they’ll help me. And it’s worked.
I’ve been telling clients for years: When pitching the media, it's not about how great you are...it's about how we can address our own needs by addressing the journalist’s. How we can serve as a resource for them, and for their readers. How we can provide their readers - after all, it's the readers who are the end-users - with actionable or interesting information they can apply to their daily lives.
Every so often, if you're lucky, you get a client who understands. Unfortunately, though, one of the curses of our industry is that many clients seem to think that the media is simply dying to write about their company...and that it will happen if you keep "pitching" them enough. And many clients, no matter how hard you try to educate them, still believe in the old-fashioned "pitch" - where you just keep throwing mud against the wall and hope some of it sticks.
Wake up, PR people!! Now that there are fewer journalists than ever before - and now that most of them are doing the work of two or three people - we need to help them if we want coverage for our clients!
We need to think strategically. We need to educate our clients as to what's now going on in the real world, and as to reasonable expectations. We need to think of ourselves as a resource for the media...not as shills for clients who simply don't get it (and probably never will).
And, certainly, once this recession is over and we’re all less desperate, we need to start seeking out clients who "get it." And we need to get it, as well…if we do business with toxic clients who view us only as pitching-machines, our own reputations can be poisoned.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
By Steve Winston
www.winstoncommunications.com
Sometimes I think we demean our profession – and ourselves – when we use the word “pitching.” And I think that's particularly true these days, when there are more self-centered voices than ever screaming for attention from the precious few journalists who still have jobs.
Maybe it’s because I started out as a reporter…and I still vividly recall those 3 a.m. calls from the City Desk to run out to the scene of a murder or a fire or a tornado or an alligator attack (I live in South Florida). And maybe it’s because I still recall being pretty much the only one driving on the dark roads at that hour of the morning…and the awesome responsibility I felt about providing accurate and insightful coverage for my readers.
I’ve now been in PR and marketing for twenty years. And – although I, too, am sometimes guilty of using the term “pitching” – I’m very uncomfortable with it. That’s because - probably due to my background – I tend to view journalists as partners. I respect the work they do. I respect their needs. I respect that “awesome responsibility” that most of them, believe it or not, still feel. And I don’t see them as faceless enablers whom I should try to manipulate into publishing something about how wonderful my clients are.
I see myself as being in symbiotic relationships with them; relationships in which the back-scratching doesn’t only go one way. I believe that if I help them, they’ll help me. And it’s worked.
I’ve been telling clients for years: When pitching the media, it's not about how great you are...it's about how we can address our own needs by addressing the journalist’s. How we can serve as a resource for them, and for their readers. How we can provide their readers - after all, it's the readers who are the end-users - with actionable or interesting information they can apply to their daily lives.
Every so often, if you're lucky, you get a client who understands. Unfortunately, though, one of the curses of our industry is that many clients seem to think that the media is simply dying to write about their company...and that it will happen if you keep "pitching" them enough. And many clients, no matter how hard you try to educate them, still believe in the old-fashioned "pitch" - where you just keep throwing mud against the wall and hope some of it sticks.
Wake up, PR people!! Now that there are fewer journalists than ever before - and now that most of them are doing the work of two or three people - we need to help them if we want coverage for our clients!
We need to think strategically. We need to educate our clients as to what's now going on in the real world, and as to reasonable expectations. We need to think of ourselves as a resource for the media...not as shills for clients who simply don't get it (and probably never will).
And, certainly, once this recession is over and we’re all less desperate, we need to start seeking out clients who "get it." And we need to get it, as well…if we do business with toxic clients who view us only as pitching-machines, our own reputations can be poisoned.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
ETHICAL PR: LET'S LEAD BY EXAMPLE
When we become shills for clients whose business objectives don't go beyond glitz or hype, who wouldn't know a true Business Plan if they tripped over it, and whose horizons extend no further than their own greed, we become no better than them. And we become what real PR professionals spend their whole careers fighting against. We become the sleazy, old-fashioned "publicist"-type...who'll take anyone as a client, who'll do anything to "promote" that client, and who'll use any methodology to prove "results."
Like this type of client, we become interested only in short-term results, rather than long-term strategy. We become interested in the quick hit, rather than in building long-term momentum. And - because we often know, in our hearts, that this client may not be around forever - we become interested only in the quick buck.
Just as so many of the business and financial institutions we once trusted have betrayed our trust for a quick buck, it's sometimes tempting - particularly in a recession - to think about the shortest route to the money.
However, like the companies who've fallen victim to this philosophy over the past few years, our own firms may not be around for long, either, if we compromise our core values. As hundreds of companies around our country can testify, once you lose your reputation, it's awfully hard - or impossible - to reclaim it.
Our mantra, as public relations professionals, should be no different than those of corporations that utilize ethical business and marketing practices...
1) Determine your core values.
2) Make sure your people understand - and practice on a daily basis – your core values.
3) Educate your clients as to your core values.
4) Be willing to pass on a potential client who you believe does not share those values.
5) Be willing to walk away - yes, walk away - from an existing client who violates what you believe to be ethical core practices. (It's a lot cheaper in the long run, both for your finances and for your reputation.)
6) Hold on tightly to your moral compass. The business graveyard is filled with PR firms that didn’t.
7) DON'T JUST PREACH YOUR CORE VALUES...PRACTICE THEM! EVERY DAY!
This could be a golden opportunity for PR. Let's take the lead. Let's set an example for our clients with our own behavior, before we’re put in the uncomfortable position of having to publicly defend theirs.
I believe that, if we're going to be put in the position of defending corporate agendas…we should be helping to set them.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
Like this type of client, we become interested only in short-term results, rather than long-term strategy. We become interested in the quick hit, rather than in building long-term momentum. And - because we often know, in our hearts, that this client may not be around forever - we become interested only in the quick buck.
Just as so many of the business and financial institutions we once trusted have betrayed our trust for a quick buck, it's sometimes tempting - particularly in a recession - to think about the shortest route to the money.
However, like the companies who've fallen victim to this philosophy over the past few years, our own firms may not be around for long, either, if we compromise our core values. As hundreds of companies around our country can testify, once you lose your reputation, it's awfully hard - or impossible - to reclaim it.
Our mantra, as public relations professionals, should be no different than those of corporations that utilize ethical business and marketing practices...
1) Determine your core values.
2) Make sure your people understand - and practice on a daily basis – your core values.
3) Educate your clients as to your core values.
4) Be willing to pass on a potential client who you believe does not share those values.
5) Be willing to walk away - yes, walk away - from an existing client who violates what you believe to be ethical core practices. (It's a lot cheaper in the long run, both for your finances and for your reputation.)
6) Hold on tightly to your moral compass. The business graveyard is filled with PR firms that didn’t.
7) DON'T JUST PREACH YOUR CORE VALUES...PRACTICE THEM! EVERY DAY!
This could be a golden opportunity for PR. Let's take the lead. Let's set an example for our clients with our own behavior, before we’re put in the uncomfortable position of having to publicly defend theirs.
I believe that, if we're going to be put in the position of defending corporate agendas…we should be helping to set them.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
Monday, June 8, 2009
HOW TO THROW STRIKES WHEN PITCHING REPORTERS
Always remember...when pitching a reporter, it's not about how great your client is. And it's not necessarily about the reporter. Ultimately it's about the type(s) of useful information your client can provide the READERS...whether or not your client can provide the readers with actionable advice they can use to improve their lives or their businesses (or their business lives!).
When you remember this, you'll make a friend out of the reporter...because you're making his/her job easier. And because you're making him look good to his editor.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
When you remember this, you'll make a friend out of the reporter...because you're making his/her job easier. And because you're making him look good to his editor.
Steve Winston
President, WINSTON COMMUNICATIONS
(954) 575-4089
steve@winstoncommunications.com
www.winstoncommunications.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
