Farr on PR: Rough and tumble in the PR jungle
Jezz Farr
I played rugby as a schoolboy. I wasn’t too bad, playing for East Yorkshire a few times at under-16 level. My position was scrum-half, which meant I had a lot of the ball. And being in the thick of things, one soon learns to be nimble and quick-thinking to avoid being crushed by rampaging forwards.
This is a roundabout way of saying that sometimes, even in the graceful sport of financial PR, things can get physical. Life can throw a hospital pass out of the blue, when work spills out on to the streets and gets real – when one has to actually step into the line of fire. And you need to have the wherewithal to react accordingly.
These are “above and beyond” moments. Times that require interventional actions never identified in the job spec or covered by in-house training. Close protection officers we are not. And anyway, who pursues a career in financial communications hoping for a tussle on the pavement?
I was called upon between 2004 and 2006 to support Josef Ackermann, then CEO of Deutsche Bank, at the so-called Mannesmann Trial in Duesseldorf where he and other senior execs of the engineering company were charged with corruption in relation to its takeover by Vodafone in 2000. Ackermann was on Mannesmann’s board at the time.
The trial was about bonuses paid post takeover to certain Mannesmann execs (though not Ackermann). By German standards, the bonuses were massive, and, given the individuals involved, the German and international press were all over it.
We knew there would be a media presence in Duesseldorf, which is why several of us from the PR team were present. What we were not expecting, coming from the quiet world of investment banking, was the huge army of reporters, camera operators and boom mic wielders that greeted our small group as we exited the courthouse into bright sunshine after day one of the trial.
Into battle
It looked like a solid wall. One, we soon realised, we would have to push our way through. Ackermann and his lawyers, some considerable concern in their eyes, looked at us, the PR team. It was the media, after all, therefore our responsibility.
We decided sharpish to form a wedge shape, like a Roman cuneus. The head of German comms was at the tip followed by me and a couple of other PRs either side just behind his shoulder, with a lawyer on each side at the back. In the middle was Ackermann accompanied by the global head of comms. And into the pack we marched.
I remember bracing myself, turning my left shoulder slightly forwards to take the brunt of the pressure. We literally forced our way through the shouting, pushing and jostling press pack. Head down, keep moving, stay in formation.
It felt like an age but was probably less than a minute. Our hands pushing big lenses out of the way, ducking mics, suit scraping against anorak. Eventually we broke through, disappearing into side streets as the reporters tapered off, repositioning themselves for the next exec to emerge from the courthouse.
We walked in silence, slightly shocked, until someone said quietly: “That was rather exciting.” And so it was. Thrilling, and definitely above and beyond the call of duty, I thought.
As we recounted our heroic actions, a German colleague reminded us – again, I might add – of when he actually rugby-tackled and took down a well-known German TV journalist from Bloomberg who was persistently chasing Ackermann at an event in Frankfurt. To be honest, I rather admired his chutzpah.
Thank you for your interest
Back in the UK, when I was at HSBC, the head of risk was ambushed by a BBC reporter and camera crew outside a building that had just hosted the bank’s AGM. Some very tricky questions had been asked and interest in the bank was still strong. I happened to be standing nearby chatting to a couple of other execs when the journalist pounced with a barrage of questions, causing the head of risk to freeze in panic.
I ran up to him, put my arm firmly through his, whispered into his ear: “Keep walking, keep smiling, say nothing,” and, dragging him with me, I strode purposefully towards what I desperately hoped were HSBC cars waiting about a hundred yards away.
I blush now when I remember but all I kept saying to the journalist and crew walking backwards in front of us, with their mic and camera right in our faces, was: “Thank you for your interest in HSBC,” over and over again. “Thank you, thank you for your interest in HSBC,” striding and smiling the whole time.
Being in PR, one becomes used to curveballs coming from the media. It’s part of the fun of the job. But they invariably involve desk-to-desk engagement, with verbal exchanges conducted over phones. Importantly, initial contact is often cautious and guarded. One has to remain calm and try to understand the situation, gently asking questions, slowly teasing out details about what your inquisitor believes has happened.
On the streets, there isn’t always the luxury of polite conversation. You really do need to have your wits about you. Which is why you often see senior execs at places like the IMF meetings or WEF in Davos with PRs hovering close by, living up to the “flack” descriptor, acting as a shield should a microphone-clutching journalist jump out from behind a potted plant.
Even then, confrontations are rarely muscular.
But, occasionally, they are. And my advice? Don’t cower. Think on your feet, if you can. Try to diffuse the situation. And if you can’t, just smile, push through and keep walking. Say: “Thank you, thank you for your interest.” It works.
Jezz Farr has been a senior communications adviser to major international banks for more than 25 years