What the Barcelona Principles should seek to measure is motive, as well as media or message.
When in PR circles I hear the word principles I wonder who’s invoking them and what’s at stake.
With the enshrinement of The Arthur W. Page Society’s Page Principles, I am hardened to a farce. These seven derived ditties are no more the work of the late, great CCO Arthur Page than the musings of Santa Claus. Read Mr. Page’s works closely and you’ll see his cunning as an architect of the rising AT&T monopoly and a master of the public playground.
Having re-read the Barcelona Principles, I am equally wary. Similar to Page, they reflect a bias that deprives the practice of more useful metrics. They support the myth that PR is a source of good will and mutual benefit. At the same time they ignore PR’s raw ability to navigate markets and position players, whether companies, celebrities, causes, policies, brands, reputations, products, or services.
Good people, and many of them my friends, have ennobled a craft that is unregulated, un-licensed, and inherently in service to public manipulation. The pioneering Edward L. Bernays, who would admit to the propaganda beneath PR, is hardly their hero. After all, we could never have the Page Propaganda Principles or the Barcelona Manipulation Metrics.
Like any and every member of the influence industry, PR and communications exist to advance an idea or interest, never to inform or educate, not exclusively. And never to collaborate, not without equal or greater benefit to the commissioning player.
Looking through the lens of strategy is asking a lot of PR priests and scholars. Too many are committed to collaboration, symmetry, reputation, and other soft constructs. But if they are as honest about their work as the principles they promote, then it is the motives behind PR that they’ll recognize and seek to measure. Consider these examples:
Dove’s Soap Job
In its campaigns for Dove, Unilever is keen to claim its support of aging women and, through the ostensibly rare benefits of this commodity soap, it celebrates and tries to deepen this customer relationship. But the benefit is not balanced and the intimacy is one-way. As well, the program would never be funded without the promise of increased market share and margin.
How should the success of the promotion be evaluated? Under today’s Barcelona Principles, Unilever might measure, among other things, the outcome – customer engagement – in quantity and quality over social and mainstream media.
But what Unilever should also measure is the extent to which it has achieved the strategic objectives that underlie the Edelman-inspired campaign. Two strategies in particular are being used, those that I refer to as the Recast and the Screen (see my Standard Table of Influence for more on these and 22 other strategies):
- The Recast: An influence strategy to reposition the Dove brand for senior women. (def: To reorder and restate. The reinterpretation of an action, event, information, message, or symbol.)
- The Screen: An influence strategy to invoke the issues and experiences of age and aging. (def: To play with a prop. The borrowing of issues, ideas, events, or symbols.)
Through gap analyses and detailed sub-ontologies the effects of these plays could be compared against a baseline. A significant difference in the recalled positive characteristics of Dove by older women would verify the Recast. Content analyses that connect the soap to age-based terms like “mature,” “senior,” and “wrinkles,” would confirm a well-run Screen.
In politics, as in business, the motive is also what matters. Take the game of U.S. Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX), one of a plethora of declared or declaring candidates for the U.S. presidency. Like Unilever, Cruz believes his cause is mutual and mighty, so, among other methods, he measures his followers, tweets, and retweets for proof of rhetorical control.
It would be better, however, to measure his influence strategies, because these are the impulses that inform his position and platform. For the pugnacious Cruz, there are three—those that I call the Peacock, the Call Out, and the Bait. Read more about them here. Each is designed to provoke and each can be revealed with tuned algorithms applied to big data.
These are the plays he’s running. They are core to his motivations. So why not recognize and measure them?
The Skinny on Panera
If Dove is too much about marketing and Cruz too much about politics, consider the Dear America campaign by Panera Bread. The fast-casual dining chain isn’t shy about speaking out against obesity. But this is a company that’s all about bread—the starchy stuff that contributes to, not reduces, waistlines. While Panera might be inclined to measure sentiment or the free associations that customers make between Panera and, say, healthy food, the truer concept to measure is the degree to which the company escapes accusations of hypocrisy.
In my Standard Table of Influence, this points to the Red Herring, one of two diverting stratagems that draws a market’s attention away from a susceptibility. It’s not hard to measure. Red Herrings are simply about identifying how well or readily a focal player keeps stakeholders, especially detractors, from mentioning the bad news. Panera might prefer to measure happier things, no doubt, but the company’s need to avoid the negative is too obviously its central strategy. And so it should be measured.
Some may cast my comments as a commercial for my system of classifying strategies. They are, but by necessity; my system is my reference. The ontology I describe is a direct result of deficiencies I observe in media measurement and PR’s allergy for self-appraisal. Better methods and metrics are needed to clarify the field, and mine is one attempt.
Latest posts by Alan Kelly (see all)
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- Using the Tools of PR Measurement to Evaluate PR Strategy - November 3, 2015
- Five Years After Barcelona, It’s Time to Measure Motive - June 13, 2015