Journalism

In our era of shrinking print news holes and way too many eyeball-challenged websites, television news broadcasts still gets reach and, better yet, their creators need material.  Even the most budget-strapped stations still have to fill air time.  With many stations cutting reporters and anchors, harried producers are even more desperate for content now than ever before.

Yet PR pros regularly get stiffed at the gateway by assignment editors who love to proclaim that their stations “no longer use VNRs.”  Unless you’re able to lure a local crew to your client’s doorstep/event, this Catch 22 seems like a PR occupational hazard.

VNRs officially were verboten after an infamous episode in March 2004.  The New York Times blew the whistle on the Bush administration for distributing videos showing President Bush signing a Medicare prescription-drug law and “receiving a standing ovations from a crowd cheering.” The footage ended with a woman telling the unwary viewer “In Washington, I’m Karen Ryan reporting.”  Yet, Ryan was a TV production company employee and no more a journalist than the infomercial shill proclaiming “do you mean to tell me  . . .?”

Previously, government-funded VNRs with faux reporters were perfected by the Clinton administration.  President Bush tweaked reporters by defending the practice as legal.  Suddenly, many irate affiliates nationwide championed a blanket policy of not accepting VNRs.

The ban came a little late, since the classic Video News Release was already a dinosaur even as the misused acronym lingered.  These overly produced, dialogue intensive productions (supposedly a video version of a press release as if anyone wanted that) rarely made air any way except in severely sliced/diced form by quote-desperate segment producers.

The moldy VNR of the late ‘80s has been long replaced by b-roll — functional chunks of footage with a few quotes.  Yet, some wary affiliates now claim even b-roll is out.  This is a noble idea from a supposed journalistic credibility stand point but hardly holds water.  The fact is, producers still need visually enticing material from your clients as long as it’s not laughably promotional or tattooed with company logos and product signage.

Here are some quick thoughts the next time you’re trying to get some supposed client propaganda on air.

– Don’t Use the ‘B’ Word:  While toiling, highly caffeinated before the rooster crowed, at a satellite media tour company, I learned quickly to ditch the offending buzzwords b-roll and VNR.  Instead, offer producers “sound bite footage with our expert” or “good visuals of kids using the product.”

–. Vamp it Up With Visuals:  Producers tire of inevitable talking head sources bobbing in their office chairs.  Shoot your sources in an eye catching setting without getting gimmicky.

– Let the Slates Skate.  Slates, time coded written descriptions between video segments, were designed as an easy way to help break up video footage for producers.  Now slates make footage seem overly packaged so drop them.  Just separate your edited sequences with cuts to black (and give the slate info to the producer by phone or email).

– Remember THEY Shot It.  The myth you’re selling viewers is that the station shot your b-roll footage.  Therefore, don’t over produce it in a photography studio setting or hack it up by having an intern shoot it with a camcorder.  Get a videographer who can shoot natural looking footage and keep the sound bites tight.

These tricks can help get your client on air while letting you side step the scarlet letters VNR.  Down the line, we’ll tackle those pesky producers who ‘don’t do satellite interviews.’

Last fall, a friend and aspiring journalist at the Journal called me to proudly ask if I’d read his byline, which was published in that day’s paper. He provided the precise section and page number. My response? “Hold on, let me dig the paper out of the bird cage.” Now, CarryOn doesn’t really employ any birds… at least not literally… but I made my point. Today, newspapers may be more valuable as bird cage lining than as vehicles for delivering the news. Why would I trudge across the office to disturb the actual, physical print version of the paper that was so happily posing as placemat to some cup of joe in our communal kitchen?

To underscore my point, I have to plug my (favorite) client Symantec and the findings of the Norton Online Living Report (the most amazing PR campaign ever conceptualized!) that found Internet users worldwide read news online at nearly an equal rate as in traditional printed newspapers and magazines. Now, I’m one of those rare PR professionals who actually started her career before the days of the Internet, but I pride myself in keeping pace with the times. I embrace technology. I have to – as CarryOn’s Tech Practice Leader, it’s what I do for a living. Friends, I cuddle my Blackberry. So, for an Internet addict like me, the stat about reading news online is conservative. At best. Seriously, doesn’t everybody get their news from the Internet, where every report filed must be true, even if it’s posted on a site called “GoFugYourself”?

But, due exclusively to the unrelenting persistence of my scoop-hunting and news-breaking friend, I gave in. I actually got up from my desk, left my office, caught a tram to the kitchen where the papers are stashed and dirtied my hands with ink (yes, dear Internet generation, papers really do leave you messed with ink… it ain’t purdy and don’t do it wearing white). My friend’s column on the “bantering Bancrofts” was witty, but what was really memorable was my renewed love affair with the paper – the actual, physical, hard-copy version of the paper.

I spent an hour flirting with the papers that morning. I read the Journal, the Gray Lady, the Pink Sheet, and even the entertainment rags. Actually, maybe read is an understatement. I devoured them (and my coffee). And I learned something. You can tell a lot about a paper by experiencing its physical manifestation. Having not picked up a paper in years, the first thing I noticed was how thin it had gotten. It lost weight. And not just a few pounds, but it shed entire pages. This gave me an insane dose of reality on how dire the traditional journalism industry is. Gone are the pages of colorful, clever ads, and with them, the credible, authoritative, expert journalism of yesteryear. Where has the reckless ad spending gone? Once you get beyond the initial shock and awe of the skeleton of a paper, you are quickly schooled on the publisher’s priorities. Just scan the headlines and look at the print layout. Consider how the stories are placed on the page. What’s above the fold. What’s below. What story was big enough to make it to A1. What stories were abandoned on the last page. What stories merited photography and original artwork. All of this gives you invaluable insight to how the media operates. As PR professionals, it allows us to better hone our pitches, appreciate the spoils of our hard work, and remind us how lucky we are to have a choice.