Farr on PR: Davos, and how to survive it
Jezz Farr
Strong black coffee – check. Two painkillers – check. A cigarette – check. Breakfast … done.
I don’t think I was the only attendee at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, starting their days like this. In fact, I know I wasn’t, though maybe without the cigarette.
As anyone will tell you, much of the serious networking at Davos is done in the evenings and into the early hours. The days are long and full, but from 6pm onwards, the mood changes. The bars and restaurants begin to fill up, sponsored events kick off and people start letting their hair down.
Davos offers one of the best, if not the best, networking opportunity in the calendar. The days are a flurry of meetings, panel events and working lunches. The evenings full of chance encounters. And everyone is squashed into a small town in the Swiss Alps.
For a PR person, it is fantastic. In the office at 7am finalising the day’s meet-and-greet schedule, which by now will be much changed from the plans we started out with a couple of months earlier. The object is to ensure my banker stakeholders know where they need to be and at what time, and that the journalists I have arranged for them to meet are not distracted by a breaking story elsewhere.
Finding space is not always straightforward either. Whether you are in the Congress Centre – the golden ticket if you can score an official pass – or in the hotel lobbies, such is the throng of people it is often difficult to find a quiet corner for a chat.
If you are lucky, your employer might have secured a couple of meeting rooms, or even a shop on the main street converted temporarily from an alpine clothes store to a lounge where one can sit in relative comfort and chaperone the meeting with coffee and pastries. But these spaces are usually prioritised for bankers having back-to-back meetings with highfalutin clients. So I was often on the hunt for a quiet corner. Knowing concierges helps.
Ice but nice
Such is the atmosphere in Davos, these banker/journalist catch-ups (invariably off-record) always felt special. People would arrive in thick coats, hats and gloves, often brushing snow off their shoulders and kicking ice off their shoes. They may have even had to endure airport-like security to get in. They will have bumped into people they haven’t seen for ages as they wind their way to, hopefully, a table I have grabbed. And eyes will be darting around looking opportunistically for important people to whom they can say hello.
This heady atmosphere pervades Davos, lending a strange magic to activities. The meetings I hosted were always far more memorable than those held in grey offices in a damp Canary Wharf. People are energised, keen to talk, pleased to be participating in and sharing this unique event. I know many senior bankers who moan about having to go to Davos, complaining about the chaos, the break in their otherwise carefully choreographed daily routine, the weight of client meetings. But I think they secretly enjoy it. Despite being stripped of a full back office organising their lives back at HQ, or perhaps because of it, I reckon people get a buzz out of having to look after themselves, navigating the crowds, the timetables and the weather.
So when the journalist/banker meeting is over, out come the maps, the schedules and the event lists and off we go hoping we can find our next appointment on time and in the right corner of the right hotel.
It is exhausting but satisfying. And a great opportunity to cement or begin useful relationships. Some of my most enduring journalist friendships were born in Davos. I am sure bankers can say the same about their clients. And we haven’t reached 6pm yet.
Party time
Priority number one is to plan carefully. Some evening events are more popular than others so it pays to get there early. You might be hosting your own drinks in a hotel lounge so it is important to pace yourself. And some sponsors host big parties that everyone is keen to attend. Getting invites for those can take some cunning manoeuvring. And forget about finding a table in a restaurant if you hadn’t booked it weeks ago.
By 7pm people are relaxing. Hangovers are drunk off, spirits are rising. Many years ago, I had arranged to meet a now very senior FT journalist for an early drink at the start of the Davos week. We invited a couple of other hacks to join us. Within a few years, it had become quite big – a thing – with journalists of all media turning up. It was great. Then we’d be off, perhaps bumping into each other again once or twice throughout the evening.
By 10pm, I and many others are thinking “one more hour then I’m off”. Which is perfect because this is nightcap hour. You will, of course, have an invitation to a promising event. And at 11pm, as I would be thanking the hosts, I would hear a journo calling my name, offering to buy me a drink in a nearby bar. One for the road, they’d say.
Several hours later, as I trudged like many others through the freezing snow, I would be thinking two things. First, what a fantastic and productive day. Many positive meetings and how brilliant it was to catch up with some of the best journalists in the business. Second, and more urgently, I hope I still have some painkillers left in my bag.
Jezz Farr has been a senior communications adviser to major international banks for more than 25 years