Category: Uncategorized

  • EpiRen and Our Failure to Make Rules

    As some of you know, I used to blog using a
    pseudonym
    . I did it for many
    reasons, chief among them a fear that in the absence of a realistic,
    well-considered and comprehensive social media and public
    communication policy by my employer, my posts could be used against me
    and place myself and my employer in a sticky situation. In the three
    years since making that decision, a best practice began to emerge
    around the country regarding the personal use of social media networks
    and how it affected, or intersected, with one’s career and workplace.
    (I say best practice very specifically, because this is not something
    written well anywhere—least of all in case law.) Due to a variety of
    circumstances, one among them this emerging best practice, I dropped
    my pseudonym and began writing as myself. The rewards have been
    greater than I could have imagined, yet the worry that surfaces each
    time I press, “Post,” is palpable.

    I bring up this little history lesson because a good Twitter-friend of
    mine, René Najera (@EpiRen of Twitter-fame), has been slapped on the
    wrist by his employer as a direct result of his online activities.
    (Thank you to my good, real-life-friend James
    Hamilton
    for the heads up.) As I
    read the article on
    René
    ,
    I couldn’t help but relive all of the arguments that caused me to post
    pseudonymously, and fret about the damage I may have already done to
    my future.

    René was an epidemiology god on Twitter, regularly holding
    “Epidemiology Night School,” and vociferously arguing for the cause of
    childhood immunization (and indeed vaccination in general). All of
    that has ended now, as his employer has—as part of his
    agreement—forbade him from all social networking activity related to
    public health. It seems that, as part of his vociferous defense, he
    participated in a discussion that reached a point where someone
    complained of his activities to his employer. (Seriously, I rewrote
    that sentence like four times. That’s the most even-handed way I can
    put it.) Because René wrote using his real name and it wasn’t hard to
    figure out who his employer was, making the complaint was easy. Much
    like it would be for me. And, again with the worry.

    Today’s little story leads me to a shortcoming that I’ve noticed in my
    posts on the need for government agencies, and private industry, to
    confront the new reality that social media has forced upon us all. The
    rules still remain largely unwritten, and in the absence of good
    rules, capricious reactions to poor judgements and complaints will
    blindly lead us—eventually—to common-sensical rules. But in the
    meantime, folks like René risk getting their careers derailed.

    The shortcoming that I feel I have is that I get haughty. I say things
    like, “Lead, follow, or get run the hell over.” And I believe that
    someday public agencies will get it and move into the twenty-first
    century, or they’ll be recognized as dinosaurs and cast aside. The
    problem is that this agencies are full of people who forgo the money
    of private enterprise due SOLELY to their passion for the work they
    do. They believe in it to their core (much like René), and are willing
    to tell the world about it. Why should these people, your best
    advocates, have to walk the razor’s edge until some executive gets his
    head out of the sand and makes some rules? Why my blasé stance? (Could
    it be my positivist approach satisfies my need to believe that should
    the hammer come down on me, my executive will support the work I do?
    Not entirely smart, and not good for everyone else in my position, or
    René’s.)

    So, my charge to you today is to push for some common-sensical, EASY,
    rules on social media usage in the workplace. I’ve got a few PIOs
    reading this blog, and you guys and gals are perfect to advance this
    work. If you’re not a PIO, you probably know one, and I ask that you
    forward this along to them.

    What should a good social media policy encompass? Well, start here:
    the Online Database of Social Media
    Policies
    . Browse
    through and see what others have done.

    Then consider your policy over the long-term. While social media is
    new and fancy right now, it will soon be everywhere and part and
    parcel of nearly everyone’s lives. Will your policy hold up in that
    world? Does it understand that public speech these days does not
    involve a soapbox and a dozen listeners, but instead a comment box and
    millions of listeners? (And everyone in your legal department’s
    sphincter just tightened.)

    Also consider, though, what is the difference between a Facebook post
    (complaining about work) and pamphleting (some racist screed)? Is it
    the method or the message that you should be looking at?

    Finally, is it prudent to assume that all of the communications coming
    out of your department is controlled by your communications office?
    What does your janitor’s MySpace page say about your “mission?” Some
    of my background research on that spokesperson
    post
    I put up
    this week congratulated one agency for getting their door people and
    security folks through media training.

    Think of it this way, the face of your agency is no longer just the
    PIO and Director. It’s now each and every employee. And until we set
    some ground rules, folks may potentially reflect poorly on our agency
    (wittingly or unwittingly), with either no recourse or a vastly
    overblown hand-smack.

    This needs to be a priority, lest we have other dedicated, passionate
    people like René become discouraged and move out of public service.

    If you’d like to know more about the ongoing saga, the scienceblogging
    field has seemingly exploding in René’s defense. Already two of the
    top ten Google results for “EpiRen” include posts on the situation,
    like this one.

  • The Face of Your Response

    I’ve read a lot about spokespeople lately. They are, quite literally,
    the face of your organization, your response, your agency. They
    provide the face of the matter. Where the rubber meets the road and
    all that.

    Quick, who is your agency’s spokesperson?

    Exactly.

    But let’s assume you’ve at least vetted your spokesperson and taught
    them what to do with their hands. Your Mayor, right? Or CEO. They’re
    savvy and can handle the cameras, so probably.

    In an emergency, though, that’s not the end of your problems. Not by
    far. And that’s because your spokesperson is the person who will be
    blamed for the situation—rightly or wrongly. So, are you sure you want
    your vetted, hands-at-her-sides spokesperson up there getting blamed?
    Your executive might be running for election, your CEO might be
    worried about the effects of being a punching bag in front of the
    stockholders. Sure, you want to project that the leader is in charge,
    but should they be up there every day? At every press conference?
    Inextricably linked to the continuously unfolding disaster? Is there
    some other leader who might be (more expendable) better linked to the
    response?

    (Think hard about how CEO Tony Hayward did during the Deepwater
    Horizon response. I argue that it was appropriate for him to be
    present at the beginning, but as the disaster stretched on, did he
    represent the face BP wanted to project? After the chief spokesperson
    position changed to Gulf native Bob Dudley, notice how the tenor of
    the response changed?)

    You see, your decision about who to put in front of the cameras should
    no longer be predicated on the answer to the question, “What do you do
    with your hands?” Think strategically, think long-term. Wo should your
    spokesperson be now? Now? Five hours from now? In two weeks? Are you
    sure it should be the same person?

  • Disaster Stylebook

    In anticipation of the upcoming tenth anniversary of the
    9/11 attacks, the Associated Press has done something I’ve never heard
    of: developed and released what folks are calling a “situational
    stylebook.” Dubbed the Sept. 11 Style and Reference
    Guide
    ,
    the AP has compiled a list of terms (including pronunciation) that
    reporters may use in their stories about the event, in addition to a
    full account of all related events from 8:00 a.m. until 5:25 p.m.

    What. A. Resource.

    Normally something this cool would be enough, but I had a thought. Why
    don’t we do this as PIOs? Now this obviously isn’t for everyone and
    every emergency. But for those long-term responses? Think public
    health emergencies or wildland fires or oil spills. Something that’s
    going to go on for days, weeks, months and has lots of confusing
    terms, spellings and pronunciations. There are names to remember,
    players that may be difficult to sort out and critically important
    timelines.

    And really? How difficult would that be? A two-page document that
    gives the history of your emergency. That allows reporters and
    bloggers and the public to get it right the first time, no matter at
    what point in the story they’ve become interested.

    A disaster stylebook, if you will. You’ve probably already got all of
    the information you need to put one together. Now, just remember to
    post it to your Media
    webpage
    .