Social Media as Catharsis

Earlier this year, London experienced an horrific situation, where two men brutally murdered another with a machete. Just the description of the event is traumatic enough, but this attack was made all the more real by how it unfolded on social media. Akin to what happens during most disasters today, the attack was livetweeted by a bystander.

What the what? How does… What goes through people’s heads?! Why, in the face of death and destruction, do people feel the need to share these horrible situations? I mean, you can make a case in some disaster situations that social sharing of pictures and descriptions serves some public good: informing people further away about their families, updating emergency responders on the scope of the situation, providing warning on a developing and evolving situation. But a singular attack? TechCrunch asked a similar question after the Asiana Airlines crash earlier this year, too:

Right now, we are rubbernecking on a global level. Good news goes unheard as we fall into an eager chorus of shock and sorrow. Each of us has a choice of whether to simply parrot the problems our world inevitably faces or use our voice to try to solve them. Let’s think before we tweet.

The post is titled, Why Do We Endlessly Retweet Tragedy?, and the question is a good one. Why do we do this? What causes people to let everyone in on this terrible secret that they’ve witnessed? There is some research on why that might be. The situation isn’t completely analogous, but you have to wonder if disastrous shows, like Breaking Bad cause similar feelings. Why do we watch them? Why would we revel in the downfall of a science teacher into a meth kingpin? Scientific American explores the theories:

We often associate words like ‘fun,’ ‘enjoyment,’ or ‘escape’ when we think about our entertainment. These are all hedonic, or pleasurable, rewards of watching TV. But the work of Mary Beth Oliver, a professor of media studies at Pennsylvania State University, has shown us that entertainment can offer more than enjoyment. In step with the positive psychology movement, Oliver and her colleagues have identified many eudaimonic rewards of watching depressing, stressful, or even horrific television. Eudaimonia is an experience that meaningfulness, insight, and emotions that put us in touch with our own humanity. Eudaimonia might not make us happy, but it can enrich us, leave us feeling fulfilled, touched, and perhaps even teach us something about ourselves.

Tragedy is a deeply profound experience, and one that has the potential to affect each person for the rest of their lives. Given the humdrum of modern society, that excitement, that explosion of grief, fear and stress can be cathartic and allow us to feel more deeply, live more. To appreciate life. We share because we are alive, because we are feeling something greater than any other day. And if that’s true, there is nothing wrong with it. It’s a natural human reaction that is tied completely to emotions and deep brain functions.

So, what does that mean for us as communicators? It means that as much as we’d like to tell people to stop taking pictures, think before you tweet, stop making the situation worse, the public can’t. They are experiencing life–the bad part, yes, but still–they are alive and bursting at the seams with emotion and fear and dread and being able to talk about it is key to bouncing back from it. From being resilient. From recovering.

So when that next disaster happens, save your messages for what you’re best at and stop chastising the public for doing what might be in their best interest.


Boring Blogs

Congratulations! You’ve finally reached the pinnacle of government social media success: you got your executive to start blogging! So what’s next? Well, it really depends on the blog. How good is it? Chances are, it’s probably not that interesting. Like most executive blogs. Dannielle Blumenthal writes on that there are seven assumptions that lead to bad leaderhips blogging:

1. Communications is not important, the work is
2. If we do communicate, we’re talking to our “primary audiences”
3. Senior executives have to sound important
4. All negativity is bad
5. People hear from us so rarely that we can pretty much write whatever we want and it’s all good
6. Silence is usually golden
7. Even if we did care about blogging, you can’t prove what a good one is

Ms. Blumenthal gives some suggestions about how to cure boring executive posts, but that’s really all about fixing one particular blog by one particular person. We should be looking bigger and seeing how we can improve all of the work that we publish. And the folks at Buffer think that one way to do that is to develop a content style guide:

Consistency in style, tone, grammar, and punctuation is essential to an enjoyable blog experience. Successfully done, these elements go unnoticed by readers who are too busy consuming the easy, breezy content. That’s the way it should be. Style guides create uniform content and allow that content to shine.

Having trouble figuring out how to set one up? The blog also has recommendations for how to get started:

The key to keeping the length reasonable is to find an existing editorial style guide that covers the basics—a guide like the AP Style Guide or the Chicago Manual of Style. These guides are exhaustive in their coverage of grammar, punctuation, capitalization, and word usage.

Once you have this foundation, your content style guide is free to cover only the additions or changes. There is no need to repeat anything that is in the original guide.

Once you’ve got that set, why leave all of the goodness of your newly very-readable blog to just your executive? In other words, don’t just depend on your executive to blog, look to your experts, too. The utterly amazing Helen Reynolds gives us five reasons we’ll benefit from letting our staff blog:

1. Your brand ain’t your logo (ed. note: It’s your people)
2. People trust people (ed. note: Not press releases and corporate speak)
3. Experts need experts (ed. note: Your staff can learn from other experts more easily)
4. They’re probably doing it already (key sentence: But employees – experts – will be using social media to research, learn and share: they just won’t put your organisation’s name to it, or they’ll do it without identifying themselves.)
5. PR and social media ‘gurus’ (ed. note: PR should be helping our experts to communicate well, not communicating for them)

So, what do you think? Your executive blog might not be the coolest thing on the block anymore. But, that’s okay, because it’s a great start. How else will you get your executive’s approval for more multiple social media outlets?

If a Tree Falls in the Forest…

What happens if you have an emergency, and no one notices? Did it really happen? We’ve talked about that before, but in the context of multiple disasters happening simultaneously and the competition for the scarce resource of media coverage:

The reporter then went to Moscow, Ohio to cover another [tornado] touchdown. Even with that, the big story was out of Henryville, where the devastation was greatest. Never heard about Moscow, either, did you? According to the reporter, the media wasn’t given access until several days later.

Who told their story? Did not telling their story affect how they recovered? Did it affect the funding that came their way?

That situation makes some sense, though. When there is plenty of devastation to go around, the juiciest story usually will get the coverage. But what if you have a terrible disaster–HUGE disaster–and no one from the mass media covers it? Because it happens. And it’s happened recently:

The worst blizzard in recorded history of South Dakota just swept through the state. Tens of thousands of cattle are predicted dead and the much of the state is still without power. The Rapid City Journal reports, ”Tens of thousands of cattle lie dead across South Dakota on Monday following a blizzard that could become one of the most costly in the history of the state’s agriculture industry.”

The only reason I know this is because my parent’s ranch, the setting for Meadowlark, lies in the storm’s epicenter. Mom texted me after the storm. “No electricity. Saving power on phone. It’s really, really bad….” She turned on her phone to call me later that day. “There are no words to describe the devastation and loss. Everywhere we look there are dead cattle. I’ve never seen so many dead cattle. Nobody can remember anything like this.”

The post goes on to talk about why this was such a devastating event and why it will probably never make the national news. It didn’t damage facilities, it was far out in (what is sometimes termed by us East Coasters as) a flyover state, the human toll was basically zero and the economic effect won’t be seen for months (in the name of higher beef prices). Is there anything that would be a huge hardship to your organization or agency or county or town or state, but nobody else would understand? How would the response go? Would there be any Red Cross text message donation campaigns? Would the President grieve for your loss on evening TV? Probably not, and yet the damage could be just as great.

So, what do we do? As emergency communicators, does it makes sense to try to raise awareness of your disaster? Is that self-serving? (Probably.) Might it still help anyways? (Maybe.) How would you do it without sounding whiny? (I haven’t the foggiest idea.) In turn, I ask you. What would you do if your disaster, your community’s suffering, was completely unheard of by the larger public?

The Shrinking of Media

I’ve talked about nano-news in the past, and how consumers (read: the public) have taken to digesting news in smaller bites. Well, like all good things in a free market society, as a market is identified the entrepreneurs follow.

My first example blows my mind. I’ve talked about short-form video a couple of times on the blog, but I hadn’t heard of how one organization, NowThis News, has used the 15-second long Instagram video tool to pass along news. Mashable reviewed the service here:

Since the launch of Instagram Video in June, media organizations have experimented with 15-second video as a news vehicle. However, there is a clear divide between the strategies of legacy news organizations and newer startups.

Traditional media organizations more often use Instagram Video to promote news content, rather than to break actual news. But startup NowThis News is flipping the social media/PR model upside down by using Instagram Video as its main vehicle to deliver breaking news and featured news briefs.

NPR, though, to their credit, are doing something similar.

The second half of the shrinking media story is about the scope of the stories. As 24-hour news networks came online, it allowed news organizations to broaden the scope of their operations and cover LOTS of stories. As time progressed, the coverage of those stories got more and more shallow. A mile wide and an inch deep, as the saying goes. But as the public got access to more sources of news, the blush of coverage that most national organizations could provide wasn’t enough anymore.

So we’re starting to see organizations like Syria Deeply, that is cataloging the depth of a humongous story that could potentially affect us all. Utilizing content scraping and crowdsourcing, they’ve managed to bring a closer look from the international world onto the conflict in Syria. And the model seems replicable:

“We want to figure out how to make one topic in-depth financially viable,” Setrakian said. ” I’m not going to lean on ad revenue because I don’t want zit cream ads next to our refugee content I’m not going to lean on ad revenue because I don’t want zit cream ads next to our refugee content.”

Beyond working with enterprise clients, Syria Deeply receives support from The Asfari Foundation and the International Women’s Media Foundation.

Setrakian believes Syria Deeply has the opportunity to recreate the revenue model because it treats up-to-date information as insight, rather than just news. So far, she said, the cost of content has been pretty low, partly due to the high-volume of free content its been given from high quality news and information providers.

Traditional media, in case you haven’t heard, is scrambling to take adapt to the changing landscape. They get ridiculous computer screens and make hashtags and try to appear differently. The problem isn’t the veneer, though. It’s the change in the underlying contract between news consumer and news producer.

We no longer want to be subjected to what the news Producer (the job in the newsroom, not the general production machinery) thinks we’ll be interested in. We want our news, and we want it crammed into the real time constraints that we live with, not some half hour tripe full of teasers and commercials for programs later on that evening. Getting back to our free market example, once you stop producing a product that the public doesn’t have a need for, they stop buying it. Changing the packaging doesn’t change the fact that you’re no longer addressing a need.

Plain Language in Government

It’s a funny thing when government and politics get tangled up. Funny in an, “omigod, are these people adults or just seven-year-olds in suits,” kind of way. (Source: I live in the United States.)

Political leanings aside, these folks aren’t seven-year-olds. They are men and women who run the country. All of them have advanced degrees, extremely successful backgrounds, or the ability to successfully represent tens of thousands of their neighbors concerns and needs. They aren’t dumb people. So why is there such a disconnect on what should be a pretty basic point? The point I’m talking about is the debt ceiling. (Full disclosure: I am poor at maths, and poorer at financial maths.) This article from USA Today perfectly encapsulates the difference:

Rep. Ted Yoho, R-Fla., even argues that reaching the debt limit could help the economy, by showing the world the U.S. is serious about its debt problem. “I think, personally, it would bring stability to the world markets,” he told The Washington Post Monday.


Veronique de Rugy, an economist at the free-market Mercatus Center at George Mason University, said …”I do not believe that past Oct. 17 the country’s going to hell,” she said. “But I agree that failing to pay interest on our debt has very serious consequences.”

Is breaching the debt ceiling a good thing or a bad thing? This shouldn’t be this hard, but it is. And lest you think this is just a politician bashing post, it’s not just them, it’s us, too:

A new Pew Research Center poll shows a majority of Republicans and many independents are just fine with the idea of not raising the debt limit by the Treasury Department’s deadline of Oct. 17.

Slightly more than half of Americans — 51 percent — say it is essential to raise the debt ceiling to avoid an economic crisis. That’s slightly more than the 47 percent of Americans who said the same last week.

There is a huge partisan split on this questions, with 37 percent of Republicans and 67 percent of Democrats in the new poll believing there would be an economic crisis.

But it’s not just this topic. The difference between Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act should be, well, nothing, but thanks to Jimmy Kimmel, we see there is confusion even there:

I have a theory of why this is. Our politicians are getting very good at branding. And they brand everything: the PATRIOT Act, Obamacare, the Help America Vote Act. Each is named to conjure specific images, particular feelings that are fanned and encouraged by the particular cable news channel viewers they are intending to reach. They are intended to sow discord and side-taking. Which inevitably leads to confusion.

So what can we, as career government communicators, do about this state of affairs? Plain language. We might not be able to rename that thing in the news, but if people understood where we were coming from, and who we were and what our job was, think of the confusion we could avoid. Heading back to our original area of confusion, there are already calls for the Fed and the presumed new Chief to do a better job explaining what they do:

Since 2010, when Congress pivoted first to deficit reduction and then to gridlock, the only large, influential institution in Washington focusing on reducing unemployment and getting this tepid recovery up to speed has been the Federal Reserve. Yet the beneficiaries of those actions know very little about them. Outsiders like myself can help, but it will take a commitment by the Fed itself to really change that.

Do the people you work to help know what you do? Or are they swayed by political, divisive, rancorous names and cable news fights?

Guest Post: Hurricane Bawbag

Daily Record #hurricanebawbag Trends MapCourtesy of Carolyne Mitchell, who is a fantabulous Information Officer with the South Lanarkshire Council, we’ve been treated to a great story about the naming of winter storms. It also gives us the opportunity to see what happens in real life when government isn’t paying attention to the terms the public uses. With that, I cede the floor.

Jim’s Winter is Coming post about the naming of winter storms resonated strongly with us Scots.

Back in December 2011, Scotland braced itself for one of its worst storms in living history. The Met Office had forecast the storm and issued alerts. In Strathclyde, local emergency groups had been set up in most councils to discuss school closures, social care provision, flood alerts, road closures, tree removal and general contingency planning. On December 7, the day before the storm, the Scottish Government recommended that councils should close all schools. The Met Office not only prepared the public for the weather, the media was also prepared for a busy news day.

In the end the storm resulted in widespread disruption including 60,000 houses left with no power, travel disruption, storm damage to homes and cars due to fallen trees and airborne debris and police forces around the country had advised against travelling.

But the storm provided a challenge for emergency responders and many other organisations. As the social media lead for my council, I watched the day unfold and managed the council Twitter account from home as my daughter’s school was closed. By mid-morning the public had nicknamed the storm Hurricane Bawbag and it was this hashtag that was adopted by the majority on Twitter causing #hurricanebawbag to trend, not only in Scotland but around the world.

For those not sure about the Scottish vernacular, bawbag is slang for scrotum and is usually used as a derogatory term. It’s a mild swear word that children would be told off for using. Basically us Scots were throwing down a challenge to Mother Nature – bring it on wind, if you think you’re hard enough!

However, the police and most local authorities decided that bawbag was a wholly inappropriate for them to use on their Twitter streams and they, and the Scottish Government, went for the straight #scotstorm.

What did this mean? Well, most people were reveling over in the #bawbag camp with photos of the River Clyde bursting its bank in several places, film clips of journalists on sea walls just about getting swept away, a now infamous film of an escaped trampoline rolling down a street, an enterprising Glasgow T-shirt company printing #bawbag T-shirts before the day was over and American TV news stations reporting about Hurricane Bawbag without knowing what the word meant.

Meanwhile over in the #scotstorm camp, the authorities were publishing news of closed roads, closed bridges, how to report fallen trees and other important messages, mostly to an empty room.

And the moral of the story? Go where the people are – don’t try to shoehorn yourself into a hashtag of your own making because you don’t like the one that grew organically in the heat of the moment.

I recently spent a year researching the growth of the use of Twitter during emergencies by both the emergency responders and journalists in Strathclyde for my Masters dissertation. Although things have moved on a pace since I wrote it, it still makes for interesting reading. Lovingly entitled, From John Smeaton to #hurricanebawbag: The development of social media use during emergencies by Strathclyde’s media and emergency responders, it sits on my blog which sadly I haven’t updated since August, something I promise sort out asap.

You’ll also find me on Twitter and LinkedIn – let’s connect :-)

We Need a Distraction

In the last decade, there has been a huge explosion in the number of crisis communications experts. (And a similar explosion in crises. I wonder if there’s any correlation there.) Everyone and their mother has something to say about how some agency, organization, company, famous person or regular person should have reacted in their time of need. Cluckers as I’ve called them before, always seem to be there clucking at others’ misfortune like very concerned gossips.

One aspect of our increasingly connected world is that small mistakes or problems get blown way out of proportion (or, if to the right proportion, it tends to happen in minutes, far faster than anyone can reasonably react). Someone, somewhere termed this explosion of vitriol and clucking a Twitterstorm. Lots of tweets, noise, flash and like a real storm, it moves away quickly leaving the target broken and wondering what the hell just happened. A key part of those Twitterstorms is the feedback loop that maintains and amplifies the storm:

The perfect Twitter storm

Definition: a story that starts on Twitter and through a feedback loop with traditional press generates a significant amount of attention across a broad audience.

Best examples: the Blackberry email outage, the Topman T-shirt slogan controversy and the John Lewis Christmas TV ad campaign

And if you’ve ever participated in something like this, some crisis or disaster, you’ll know exactly the frustration of having to respond to same questions, the same tweets, the same criticisms over and over and over again, sometimes even days later.

And if you haven’t, you need to see this great listicle from Buzzfeed (thanks @MarcDrummond!) that details the 29 steps of a Twitterstorm:

1. Somebody, somewhere does something wrong.
10. Somebody starts a petition.
13. People start doing satire about it. [ed. note: cue Hitler photoshopped image)
18. Politicians jump on the bandwagon.
23. Focusing on the key issue, social media “experts” rub their hands with glee at a new case study to write about.
26. Until the next day a celebrity who’s only just seen it and can’t be bothered to check what the outcome was starts the whole thing up again.
27. Fortunately, at this point somebody invents a hashtag game and everybody gets distracted.

It’s this twenty-seventh point that I wanted to bring to your attention. And I say this with the EXPLICIT instructions to NEVER do this.

I wonder why some of those dirty, underhanded crisis communications “experts” haven’t started touting their ability to offer distraction. In this world of short attention spans (ed. note: SQUIRREL!), sometimes the tempest only lasts until something cooler, or worse, or better comes along. Media officers used to be forced to wait until the next news cycle, but now there is the potential to force interest from your particular crisis.

Think of how crisis communications experts would advertise it: I created the #ILoveWhenBoys hashtag and got it up to the third highest trending term!

But no, nobody would ever really do that. Would they?