The binary world of public relations

It would be, of course, an exaggeration to say the public relations profession is the toughest white-collar job around. But given that it is driven by the amorphous quality of perception, this job is not among the easiest. In the fast-growing market of India, the job is tougher because of the largely binary relationship between PR executives and their clients. Whether it is external PR agencies or internal corporate communication executives, companies - especially listed ones - still view them through the prism of good press/bad press.

This state of affairs holds true even if we were to discount the allegations surrounding the tragic early death of former Tata Steel corporate communication head Charudatta Deshpande. The fact that Deshpande's possible suicide is being linked to a "negative" story in a magazine is a symptom, albeit an extreme one, of the limitations of the PR function as practised in India.

 

This simplistic relationship reflects the evolution of both the corporate and PR cultures. The former, though still overwhelmingly family-dominated in ownership structure, has only just emerged into the modern era of relative professionalism and transparency demanded by regulatory disclosures. The latter is just about two decades old as a formal industry in India.

At its most basic, corporate PR is considered - and this article deals with PR in the corporate milieu - a passive gatekeeper to the media, distributing such information as the company sees fit to dispense and controlling access to executives. In its active form, which passes for PR "strategy", the job entails regular "positive" coverage, which could vary from prominent features in newspapers (and now, increasingly, that new animal, the "authored article") to friendly interviews on TV.

Till recently, this limited functionality was given a "scientific" hue in the notorious "column-centimetre" measurement that PR consultants offered their clients as proof of their efficacy - that is, the amount of notional (or free) advertising space they derived for the company via positive stories. The two spin-offs from this have been the emergence of small proprietor outfits peddling media relations and, more notoriously, the organised paid news industry.

PR image via Shutterstock

Although some of the larger firms and their clients have dispensed with the "column-centimetre" paradigm, the corporate PR business has scarcely evolved to address the wider universe of the stakeholders - employees, vendors, regulators, investors, shareholders et al - as it has in the West. For global corporations, that is to say those in the developed world where disclosure requirements are relatively stringent, PR is a vital function. It is closely overseen by the CEOs - which is why corporate communication heads often change when the CEO leaves - and many PR chiefs sit on their company boards.

Detractors will say that this isn't necessarily a positive thing - look at Enron, after all. But that's exactly the point. A PR professional, whether internal or external, is as good as the company for which he or she works. No amount of schmoozing with the media can whitewash an image if the corporation indulges in questionable practices. (One common, though less harmful, example is companies that induce their PR teams to cover up poor year-on-year performance by highlighting, say, the positive trailing quarter growth.)

A good example of the contrasting approaches to PR can be seen in how Johnson & Johnson handled the scandal over the poisoning of its best-selling drug Tylenol in 1982 and Ranbaxy's approach following accusations of irregularities in the data it was submitting to the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in 2003-04.

The Tylenol crisis, which began with the death of seven people in Chicago after they took an extra-strength version of the drug, was the result of deliberate sabotage - cyanide was injected into the capsules after they left the factory. Once this was proved, Johnson & Johnson did not let the matter rest; it went ahead and recalled all its capsules from the market and relaunched the drug only after an extensive campaign to restore consumer confidence, including being the first to comply with FDA rules on tamper-proof packaging. The Tylenol crisis became a B-school case study in corporate ethics, but the important point is that the entire strategy was led by its inspirational CEO, James Burke (he died last year at age 87).

Contrast this with Ranbaxy's underwhelming response after the whistle-blower crisis culminated in an FDA ban and fine. Apart from a robust statement from its current CEO - who had nothing to do with those past transgressions - that he stood by every pill, little has been done to reassure the public on the veracity of the drug maker's production processes. Indeed, in the thick of the crisis - and it is now clear it began in the early 2000s - Ranbaxy under its promoter family thought nothing of running an elaborate PR campaign in the media. Sadly, the results of that cynical approach are being felt only now.