July 1, 2004, 5:15 a.m.: I’m driving into town for a 6:15 a.m. interview with Carol Costello of CNN Daybreak. That’s early, but I need makeup, and we have to nail the interview within a brief satellite window.
Two broadcast technicians have been there since 5 a.m., setting up, working on lighting, and dialing in the satellite downlink. At 6:10 a.m., I am resplendent in powder, eyeliner, and hairspray, ready to inform the world about pretty much any topic, important or unimportant.
Then word comes through that Saddam Hussein might walk into a courtroom in Baghdad at any moment. The network has to be ready. So we put CNN on the studio monitor. The “story” bumping me is a loop of six still photos: Saddam Hussein with and without beard, talking to children, looking off into the distance, and then with and without shotgun. Finally, the camera cuts to a live guy in the courtroom. Except that the live guy doesn’t have a live microphone. All we can hear is mumbling from the courtroom ambient mike, like someone talking in the next apartment. Now, it’s 6:50 a.m., and the satellite slot has expired. Saddam himself didn’t make it on television, and neither did I. It was going to be a long day for both of us.
Tips and pitfalls. We’re faculty members, not game-show hosts. Why even try to do interviews, right?
Wrong. You need to try. There is no cheaper or more effective way for your institution, and your research, to have an impact.
Sure, CNN bumped me for two minutes of still photos, and a schmo with no mike. But that kind of randomdisaster is rare. More often, faculty-media relations work pretty well —if your university can only avoid the dreaded “faculty turtle” syndrome.
Some academics believe that anyone who seeks out media coverage is “not serious,” or else is relentlessly self-promotional. So junior faculty members are advised to ignore media requests, and they never get better at it. Other faculty members believe they are “not paid” to deal with the news media. Answering reporters’ queries is casting pearls before swine, because reporters can’t see just how significant your research contributions are. Releasing news tips and writing up summaries of your current work are just not “worth it,” because there are never as many responses as the faculty members think they deserve.
So whether it’s “I’m not good enough” or “I’m not paid enough,” faculty members turn into turtles. They draw their heads and limbs inside a protective shell and won’t come out. If they do poke their heads out briefly, they embarrass themselves because they have no mental framework for media relations. It is not hard, really, compared with teaching. It is just different, different enough that turning into a turtle becomes a natural, permanent response.
It doesn’t have to be that way. In the triad of research, teaching, and service, the task of dealing with the news media is both service and teaching, and it should be counted as such. Administrators have to reward, and honor, success in media relations: Saying “it’s part of your job” will never work. Even the most outwardly focused campus news service will fail to bring faculty members out into the spotlight unless they are trained to deal with reporters and are rewarded for it.
For faculty members and administrators who are serious about building their media skills, here are five rules for curing the turtle syndrome and ensuring that you develop a positive relationship with reporters. Following these rules won’t make you into a star; your research does that. What these rules will do is make the process of media relations more manageable, more predictable, and a lot more fun.
Ignore the question. Reporters ask bad questions. Fact is, they may not know enough about your subject to know what a good question even looks like. Faculty members often say after an interview, “But I never got to talk about what I really wanted to say!” Well, that means you misunderstood the whole process.
Questions are a way to get you, the faculty expert, to talk. Reporters can’t guess what question you want to answer. So ignore the question. Many, many times, I have gotten a question, and I nod and then answer a completely unrelated question. I cover something I want to talk about, have prepared, and really know about. Surprisingly often, the reporter looks at the cameraman, they both nod, and say, “Thanks, that’s all we need.”
Keep it short, and animated, and give them your best 20 seconds, on your best point. Remember: They don’t air the questions. And if the reporter really wants you to answer the question, she’ll ask it again. Most important, no matter what, you gave the producers back at the station your best 20-second pitch. They will very likely use it.
Every answer stands on its own. Academics develop arguments step by step. But an interviewer can’t use, “As I already said,” or “As we were talking about earlier.” Take the facts of a question, reframe them into a statement, and give a short, complete, self-contained answer.
For example, if the reporter asks, “Should we get rid of the Electoral College?,” it is not helpful to say, “No, I don’t think so, for the reasons we already discussed.” Make your answer stand on its own: “The Electoral College has three important functions. It protects smaller states, avoids the danger of nationwide recounts, and increases turnout by giving each state a local race to focus on.”
Watch the end chat. Any good reporter is looking for good answers. But never forget that news is an entertainment business. After the interview is over, and the cameraman is taking some “chat” shots, “just to use for filler or voice-over,” the microphone is still on.
And you are on the record.
It is appalling how often reporters use the last, flippant thing you said. After one interview about a governor’s race in North Carolina, I mentioned that the Democratic candidate’s television commercials appeared to be designed to prove that she was once a child and had later had a series of unfortunate haircuts. Guess which of my comments made the air that night?
Silence is power: Gather yourself. Unless the interview is live, producers need space to edit. And for a print interview, no one knows how long you thought before answering a question; the reporter may well be pleased if you credit the question by pausing.
Frame out the answer in your mind: conclusion, three reasons, and one counterargument that’s wrong, and here’s why. Then give the answer, without um’s or loops. Good short answers are interview gold, and if it takes you five seconds of thought to shorten your answer by 10 seconds, the reporter will think it time well spent.
Let the editor edit. Faculty members often want to maintain control of their words, or their interviews, after the fact. But producers are looking for material that they can use, for their purposes. I am not talking about “Gotcha!” interviews, which are actually rare for academic experts. Reporters usually want to interview us for straight-up, “here’s the expert” sort of reasons.
If what makes it on the air is different from what you wanted to say, then it is because what you wanted to say wasn’t as interesting, or important, to the reporters as you thought. Don’t be mad at them and don’t question their motives. They are professionals who use your words for their reasons. Ask yourself, “How did I allow the producers to make that choice? Why did they not use what I thought was the best part of the interview?”
With just a little practice, and by following those rules, you can get the reporter and producer to use your best stuff —your best presentation of your work or your opinions as an expert. More important, you can teach more people in 10 minutes on television or radio than you will be able to speak to in an entire year in the classroom.
Don’t go turtle. Your university needs you, and so does the world.
