PR is Like a 'House of Cards'

Fictional U.S. Rep. Frank Underwood smooth talks his way through Congress in the Emmy-nominated Netflix original program, “House of Cards.” Along the way, he teaches us some lessons about public relations, both good and bad.

Following are lessons from D.C.’s manipulator in chief.

Always prepare for an interview. Rather than prepare for a CNN debate about a contentious teacher’s strike, Underwood underestimates the opposition and decides to wing it. When things go poorly on live TV, he throws an instinctual Hail Mary pass that misfires badly, setting back his cause and making him a viral video sensation for all the wrong reasons.

Respond quickly to a crisis situation. When fingers start being pointed following an accident in his home district, Underwood heads home immediately, despite being up to his elbows in alligators in Washington. Once back at home, Underwood shows such remarkable responsiveness and caring that he brings the crisis quickly under control, clearing the way for his return to D.C.

Tell your bad news before someone else does. Peter Russo, a flawed congressman with a checkered past, is Underwood’s pick to run for governor of Pennsylvania. Rather than wait for news of Russo’s past drug use to trickle out, Underwood advises Russo to tackle it head-on, framing it as a comeback story.

Put a face to your story. With the teacher’s strike at an impasse, Underwood rallies support by telling the story of a child’s untimely death. This story is broken instantly on Twitter, showing that even an old-school Washington powerbroker appreciates the power of the new media.

Don’t speculate. Underwood goes off the record to predict the outcome of a precariously close vote. When he gets it wrong, it hurts both his credibility with a reporter and the reporter’s credibility with her audience.

Put yourself in a good mental place before an interview. Russo parties all night before an important radio interview. The results are predictably bad, torpedoing his gubernatorial campaign.

Keep your media relationships professional. Underwood selects Zoe Barnes as his primary media confidant. For a while, things go swimmingly. But when the relationship gets too personal, both suffer.

Sign of the time for Cardinals

If you want University of Louisville quarterback Teddy Bridgewater’s signature, then you better have a summons.

Bridgewater isn’t signing autographs anymore nor or the rest of the football Cardinals. Head Coach Charlie Strong has replaced the team’s regular fan day autograph session with an extra public scrimmage. This is a radical reversal for Strong who scheduled autograph sessions both before and after his team won the Sugar Bowl.

I know this because my son and I stood in the line at one of them, getting signatures for my favorite Sugar Bowl keepsake, which is an autographed poster framed with a family photo and some Bourdon Street beads.

Strong was particularly gracious with autograph seekers that day. His change of heart is obviously in reaction to Texas A & M quarterback Johnny Manziel allegedly being paid thousands of dollars by an autograph broker to sign memorabilia, placing his college eligibility in jeopardy.

I appreciate Strong’s passion for running a clean program. However, the answer to the Manziel situation isn’t to reduce fan access or even crack down on the autograph market, it’s simply educating and policing players. If Manziel is in trouble, it’s not because he signed autographs, but because he got paid.

I can’t imagine there’s a huge market for most U of L players’ signatures outside the Cardinals’ fan base. In that regard, Strong’s policy hurts his own fans most. Additionally, it risks placing a wedge between the Cardinals and their fans. After all, gathering autographs is a time-tested tradition that builds relationships, especially with younger fans.

U of L Basketball Head Coach Rick Pitino knows this. He has been signing so many bottles he’s probably got carpel tunnel syndrome. His players are signing, too. I recently got Russ Smith, Chane Behanan and Montrezl Harrell to sign a championship basketball. You can find that ball proudly displayed on my shelf; not in an eBay listing.

The space for a football will apparently remain empty.

Trouble on the (Very) High Seas

Right after it happened, my son, Trent, urged me to write about it. But the wounds … mostly mental … were too fresh. Now, I’m finally ready to tell the story.

It started innocently enough on vacation. I was relaxing on an ocean-side balcony when I saw people riding Jet Skis. It looked fun. I remembered my former boss, Stilla, telling me about her Jet Ski exploits. If she could do it, surely I could.

So I looked up the address, grabbed the family, forked over a small fortune and began Jet Ski orientation. We decided to go out in pairs. Kim and Trent would be on one Jet Ski; Clark (my youngest) and me on the other. The guide said the ocean was choppy. I didn’t think much of it. If anything, I worried a bit about Kim and Trent.

So we headed into the waiting sea. I soon learned “choppy” is a euphemism for “tsunami force” in the Jet Ski business. We survived the initial onslaught, flying above the waves like dolphins, but I was never fully comfortable. 

Here’s how Clark describes what happened next, “We rode for like a minute and you turned it over.” The guide sped to our rescue. He helped pull us back aboard, advising us to go faster to gain better control. As it turns out, going faster to gain better control is another Jet Ski industry lie, just like “choppy” waters.

After another minute, there was another crash and another visit from the guide. This time, we didn’t bounce back quickly. The adrenaline and the fatigue and the waves were taking their toll. We managed to get nearly aboard twice, only to tip it over again. This wasn’t nearly as fun as it looked from the balcony. Or at least not for us. Kim and Trent were having fun, riding by doing tricks on their Jet Ski as if they were in a water show.

But the amusement was over for Clark and me. This outing had become a Baywatch episode. I knew we weren’t going to get back on that Jet Ski, and I told the guide so. Frustrated, he called to the shore for the “banana boat.” (As an aside, the banana boat is yellow, but there are no bananas on it … another Jet Ski lie). We fell over the edge and were whisked to shore. I was far too tired to be embarrassed.

For a moment, I thought about asking for my money back. I didn’t. I figured the cost of the rescue far exceeded my out-of-pocket costs.

Playing with the Language

As a PR guy and former journalist, I know words matter. That is why it bothers me to see the language manipulated by those who should know better.

Such is the case with the phrase “revenue increase.” You hear it everywhere in the media these days. It’s a happy euphemism for what used to be called a tax increase.

A tax increase sounds like something that hits your wallet. In contrast, a revenue increase sounds like some benign financial transaction that happens between accountants without impacting you. You might expect some congressional staffers to shade the language like this, but not journalists, who are supposed to be the referees … the seekers of truth.

It’s fine if you believe tax increases will help the economy, but just call it what it is.

If grandpa refers to his adult diaper “a personal protection garment,” then nobody gets hurt. But when you’re talking about public policy and our government spending, then it’s important to be more authentic.

Come to think of it, if George H.W. Bush had uttered the phrase “no new revenue increases,” then maybe he would’ve won a second term.

Vacation Brings Travel Travails

I just returned from a family road trip to Myrtle Beach, S.C. As usual, I have some important revelations to share from my travels. You might call them travel travails. They are as follows:

• There’s no cut-off age for getting those red or pink streaks in your hair. Your grandma used to have blue hair. Now she has blue hair with red streaks.
• If someone tells you to drive a Jet Ski faster to get better control, ignore them. It’s not true. You are only going to crash … and faster.
• If you are at any restaurant at Myrtle Beach, save yourself some time and order the crab cakes. Don’t even bother looking at the menu. Better yet, don’t ever leave the Noizy Oyster.
• If you are going to Pigeon Forge, Tenn., (our happy halfway point) always make hotel reservations. It doesn’t matter if you are arriving at noon on Monday. Make reservations. That mind-reading pig must be very popular.
• A frightening number of babies are wearing mohawks. Why do they make such daring hairstyle choices at such a young age?
• If you complain about your room, you’ll always get a better one. I was one grievance away from the Penthouse at Paradise Resort.
• Some jack ass with horrible hand/eye coordination is always going to hit you with a wet football at the pool.
• If you’re near the beach and someone tells you to go fly a kite, then you should do it. Really. It’s fun.
• If your wife asks if you are too tired to drive, then she is the one who is actually tired … tired of the way you’re driving.
• If you accidentally run a red light, your kid isn’t going to let you hear the end of it, particularly if you dumped him off a Jet Ski  … twice.