Brad Marley

In 2011, Leah Moss, a recent graduate of Michigan State University, bucked the grads-leaving-Michigan trend and started her own print magazine in Detroit and called it “Jack Detroit.”

The purpose of the pub was to focus on men’s issues and build stronger community ties through its editorial content. And, right away, the mag made an impact.

Interviews with local celebrities like Detroit Red Wings goalie, Jimmy Howard, and Phil & Ben Bator, brothers who are a part of that fabulously addicting site that gives us all the insight into the human psyche that we need (Texts From Last Night), gave the publication the immediate legitimacy that a magazine needs to find its footing, especially in today’s media climate, where grabbing attention spans can be just as crucial as securing ad dollars.

As a practicing PR professional who works in Detroit, I viewed this as a new and legitimate publication to pitch. And as we all know, there can never be too many outlets, especially when more and more are either disappearing, or ditching print.

And if we could get our stories in an outlet that wanted to be a Detroit version of Esquire, that would certainly not be a bad thing.

Unfortunately, four months after issuing their first issue, the Kickstarter-backed project folded, becoming another bullet on the long list of of failed Detroit-based ventures.

But this isn’t the story of Jack Detroit.

This is the story of the media environment, in general. Jack Detroit is just a pinpoint; an example of how hard it is to deliver great content and make money. It would seem that you can’t have one with the other, especially when other publications are beginning to put their focus on “easy, cookie-cutter copy.”

[Editor's note: If this is where our journalism is headed, just shoot me now.]

As a PR professional, we have to ask ourselves: Who will tell our stories?

We depend on the media to be that vehicle; we depend on our abilities to share compelling information with journalists that, in turn, drives them to write.

But if the general public is moving away from in-depth pieces, do we really want sites that are just in it for the eyeballs to write about us?

It’s a tricky question.

On one hand, of course we want that ink. The more people who see us, the better.

But on the other hand, quick, list-y copy doesn’t give our story the spotlight (we believe) it deserves.

As a fan of good journalism and witty writing, I want the magazines like Jack Detroit to thrive, selfishly, because I want to read long reads and have more magazines to pitch.

But I’m just not sure that’s still a possibility.

These are strange times we live in, my friends.

Not only was it short-sleeve weather in Detroit last week, but big corporations continue to try and push extra fees on their customers, believing in their greedy little heart of hearts that we are going to accept it without a fight.

When I read about Bank of America and Verizon canceling their fees, I imagine these out-of-touch ideas were born in meetings full of big-wigs who are part of the 1 percent.

In fact, the meetings probably went like this:

A portly, bespectacled man (not entirely dissimilar to this picture of Theodore Roosevelt) approaches a podium, holding a snifter of amber-colored liquid.

“Gentlemen! It has come to my attention that we are not making enough money. This travesty must surely be nipped in the bud…immediately!”

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the assembled group of executives.

“But we live in a wonderful age, my friends. An age where our customers are unaware of what they want; an era where we have complete power over the whims of our business! By installing this completely unnecessary and unwarranted fee, we will continue to be able to afford the luxuries we so rightly deserve!”

Hear, Hear!

Glasses chink together. Cigar smoke is released into the air in great relief. Backs are slapped in good humor. The man before these powerful men has given them the answer to their problems.

Vacation homes will not go unbought! Private jets will not have to go unflown!

Their prayers have been answered by their delirious leader.

Strangely missing from these proceedings is the PR person.

Had he or she been invited to this meeting, the company might have avoided the PR disaster that has taken up residence in the public forum.

Alas, they probably were not.

There has been discussion for some time now about the importance of communications professionals gaining a seat at the table with other members of the C-Suite. But when I hear about huge corporations who think they can actually get away with charging the customer more money for no good reason, I’m disheartened.

It appears they still don’t value good, strategic PR counsel.

I liken this situation to working with legal: You can get frustrated by their advice and strict adherence to guidelines, but in most cases, they know more than you do about the situation.

In a case where a company is deciding to add fees for the sake of adding fees (even if this isn’t true, it’s what the public believes) you might not like our counsel (which should be a hearty “No way in hell”), but you have to come to the realization that we’re right.

We might not know the first thing about logistics management, but we know what will and will not go over with the public.

If you listen to us, we’ll keep your organization’s reputation intact.

And that’s worth more than a measly five bucks.

Some of us who work in PR are lucky.

Our clients are large corporations with entire divisions devoted to helping us tell our story, whether it’s a fully equipped broadcast studio that we can use to record podcasts, or an editorial division that acts almost like a news department, siphoning the best stories to fill slots that will draw the most eyeballs.

If you have this machine at your disposal, it can make your job much easier.

But not everybody has this luxury. In fact, with no stats to back this up, I’d wager that most of us have to do most of the leg work ourselves. Even out-duel the major players.

Thankfully, technology makes it easier to tell our story. And if there’s one piece of tech that has the best chance to disrupt our industry in 2012, I’d put my money on Instagram.

As of January 1, 2012, there are 15 million Instagram accounts that have shared more than 400 million photos. And organizations like the Boston Celtics and General Electric have started accounts to use photos to help augment their ability to reach their audiences, so there’s something to this service.

But how can Instagram change the way we do PR in the new year?

Well, in all PR situations, you’re trying to make news. It can be as straightforward as en email pitch to a tech reporter, or conducting a major event that is geared toward a large group of automotive media.

In both cases, you’re using words to draw their interest to interview an executive or attend an event.

But what if we added a visual element?

Even with a pool of photographers at your disposal, it can take hours (sometime a day) to get the high-res pictures you want to display.

But if you have an iPhone with the Instagram app, you can snap pictures and immediately post them wherever you want, and you can even add some artistic flair with the filters. And the iPhone takes a damn good picture, so you’re not losing much in the way of resolution. You might not be the next Ansel Adams, but even the most green PR person can create something worthwhile.

[Note: Instagram is only available on the iPhone, but an app for Android is coming soon, and I can't imagine that Windows Phone would be far behind.]

And with the ability to use hashtags on Instagram to categorize your images, it isn’t difficult to reserve a hashtag for providing sneak peeks for upcoming projects, or hashtags that correspond with a specific event so that media who can’t attend can still watch the images in real time.

In no way should this replace the high-res images that a professional photographer will provide, but it can help us to “tell the story” while we’re waiting, and anything that helps us become better storytellers has to be considered.

2012 feels like the year where PR professionals who experimented with new tools in 2011 will take the next step and implement those tools in their standard PR toolkit.

If you don’t have Instagram in your regular arsenal, consider this your invitation.

Finally, the random question: I love to read, and I love to hear what others are reading. So, what is the last book you read that you couldn’t put down?

OMG! The Hunger Games series. I seriously had to tell myself to go to work and, as my reward for working the entire day, I would get to go home and read. I read all three in a week. So. Freaking. Good.

***

Again – big thanks go out to Gini for taking time out of her busy schedule to answer a few questions.

You can find all entries in The Five and One series here.

Whether you loved him or hated him, you can’t deny Steve Jobs was the master of his domain.

In my opinion, his greatest accomplishment was creating products we didn’t even know we needed, and turning them into must-have items. His death, as The Onion so aptly puts it, leaves us with one less human who “knew what the f–k he was doing.”

But one of the things that intrigued me following the news of his passing was the outpouring of sentimentality from the media.

One of the more popular pieces making the rounds was The Wall Street Journal and All Things D reporter Walt Mossberg’s poignant piece about the Steve Jobs that only he knew.

It was a touching tribute to a man that didn’t let just anyone into his world. But it kind of blew me away that a reporter took the time to write something that was, for a tech reporter, so heartfelt, because it flew in the face of everything we’ve been taught about journalists.

Most of the time, the reporters on your media list are just voices on the other end of the line. You call them up, hear your story idea shot down, and you move to the next reporter. At least, that’s what we’re taught when we begin our PR careers.

But the very idea that Mossberg had a relationship with Jobs that spurred him to devote column inches after his death solidifies this crazy new idea that PR is less about results, and more about relationships. (Okay, results are still nice.)

Not every conversation between a reporter and your executive has to result in coverage.

Not every phone call to a reporter has to have a purpose. Sometimes, it can just be to talk, like when your mom called you while you were away at college. You know, to see how you were doing.

If you’re always calling with ulterior motives, and not getting away from your desk to meet a reporter for lunch or grab a coffee, you’re doing it wrong.

Bottom line: reporters don’t bite. (Plus, without them, we wouldn’t have jobs.) Get out and meet them.

If somebody like Steve Jobs valued his relationships with certain members of the media, that’s as good a reason as any, I suppose, to follow his lead.

Photo courtesy of Joi.