Is public relations a values free zone?
by Simon Longstaff
Contents:
- Introduction
- Talking about ethics
- What ought one to do?
- The importance of relationships
- How might members of PRIA respond
- Beyond technique
- Society vs the ‘enterprise association’
introduction
Some of you may know the work of John Bevins. He is the creator of advertising campaigns such as Take me away P&O and the MBF breast cancer advertisements based on Rembrandt's painting of Bathsheba. As some of you will know, Rembrandt's second wife, Hendrickje, was the model for the painting. Faithful to his craft, Rembrandt captured the unmistakable signs of breast cancer - a dimpled discolouration of his wife's left breast. But would he have done so if he had known what he painted?
Or to put the point simply, would Rembrandt have consciously presented the truth even though he knew it to be unpleasant? We might think of a number of reasons for not doing so. Rembrandt might have been concerned to protect his audience from the disturbing sight of impending death. Then again, he might have desired to protect the privacy of his wife. There was certainly no legitimate public interest in knowing the intimate details of Hendrickje's health. On the other hand, to model for a painter who is an acknowledged master of realism is, in a sense, to make oneself open to the gaze of the public. Finally the artist might have been tempted to cover the offending signs for no reason other than a personal need to deny the awful truth before him. Perhaps a combination of all of these reasons, and many more, would have come to bear on Rembrandt's decision. We shall never know.
Whatever the case, if faced with such a decision, Rembrandt would necessarily have had to draw on his values when deciding how to act. Indeed, it would have been almost impossible for him to avoid doing so. Even recourse to a toss of the coin would reveal something of his idea about what is good or worthwhile in life. Each person's life is, in part, defined by their values. We might disagree about the weight given to particular values, we might be troubled by the types of values endorsed by a person, however, we will rarely (if ever) have justification for believing that a person has no values at all.
I think the same goes for human institutions and endeavours, each of which bear the mark of the people who constitute them. Bearing this in mind, you will not be surprised to discover that I reject the notion that public relations is a values-free zone. The values are there. The real question is “Are they right values?”
Before going on to suggest a possible framework for answering this question, I want to take a moment to sketch in something of the background to this discussion. In particular, I wish to alert you to the ancient pedigree of some of the key challenges faced by members of this Institute. You see, like Rembrandt, each of you deals with images (albeit created out of a fabric of words, pictures, sentiment and so on). Images are notoriously plastic. They can be shaped, cloaked and enhanced in a myriad of ways. Hence the temptation to create an image that serves values other than the truth. To demonstrate the antiquity of the issue, I want to go back to one of the founders of Western philosophy, Plato of Athens.
The characteristic form of writing used by Plato is a series of dialogues in which issues are explored. In one such dialogue, taking place in the Republic, Plato has Adeimantus, say the following:
For what men say is that, if I am really just and am not also thought just, profit there is none, but the pain and the loss on the other hand are unmistakable. But if, though unjust, I acquire the reputation of justice, a heavenly life is promised to me. Since then, as philosophers prove, appearance tyrannises over truth and is lord of happiness, to appearance I must devote myself. I will describe around me a picture and shadow of virtue to be the vestibule and exterior of my house; behind I will trail the subtle and crafty fox, as Archilochus, greatest of sages, recommends. But I hear some one exclaiming that the concealment of wickedness is often difficult; to which I answer, Nothing great is easy.
These words were written in the early part of the fourth century BC. I believe that they set forth, in stark terms, the same issues that many of you wrestle with today. So my question remains one to do with the type and nature of values that you hold as individuals and as members of the PRIA. Would you be prepared to help an Adeimantus describe around him “a picture and shadow of virtue” while, in reality, he trailed behind “the subtle and crafty fox”? Do you see the concealment of wickedness as being a difficult but nonetheless, great achievement?
Some may say that I have fallen into the trap of painting images that are too extreme. After all, it is rarely, if ever, the case that outright wickedness seeks to be portrayed as virtue. I accept that this is so and must plead guilty to the charge of using artifice. However, I sometimes wonder at the way in which people manage to lose awareness of the full implications of what they do. Some are swept up with the excitement of a difficult technical challenge, others believe that they are doing nothing more than their peers would accept (if I don't do it, someone else will!), others feel an intense sense of loyalty to the client, others feel uncomfortable about substituting their judgement of right and wrong for that of the client and finally, some feel that they literally cannot afford to exercise independent judgement. I suspect that most are affected by a combination of these factors. So how might we respond?
Talking about ethics
The first step is to reclaim the language of ethics. To do this we must start talking about ethical issues. Some think that talk about ethics should be reserved for supposedly unethical people. I firmly reject that position. All of us face ethical issues on a daily basis. They range from apparently trivial matters such as whether or not to pretend to be out of the office when an unwelcome telephone call is made to you, through to obvious issues such as:
- Can we afford the cost of making this product safe?
- Can we afford to admit negligence even though we know that we did the wrong thing?
- Can we afford to let the company's accounts show the real value of our assets?
- Can we afford to refuse to carry out a client's instructions even when, in all good conscience, we believe to follow them would harm the community?
- Can we afford to resist paying bribes in order to secure a contract in a difficult overseas market?
- Can we afford to resist taking advantage of an unintended loop-hole in the law or a contract?
The ethical dimension surrounds us. It confronts us whenever we have a decision to make. After all, the fundamental question in ethics is this:
What ought one to do?
Sooner or later giving an account of our choices and decisions will lead us to explain how it is that what we have done is part of what we would defend as being a worthwhile life. Far from being for unethical people, talking about ethics is a challenge for anyone who has ever faced a genuine ethical dilemma in which equally valid principles come into conflict. That means that talking about ethics is for all of us. At the very least, such talk is about asking simple questions such as “Is it right?”
There are some people who are totally oblivious to the ethical dimension of their lives. Such people explain their actions by saying things like, "That's just the way we do it around here", or "It seemed like a good idea at the time", or "... everybody does it".
There are others who are wilfully blind to the consequences of their actions, especially as they affect others. Sometimes the rewards for ignorance are so great that people will rationalise behaviour at work, that they would never tolerate in any other setting.
Some may feel that talk about the cost of ethics is a counter-productive strategy. Full marks for candour but a low mark for effective communication! I could remedy this by quoting countless examples of how being ethical has paid off in the long term. Others could quote back all the stories of people who have stuck to their principles and lost in the short-term.
While it is important to demonstrate the very real collateral benefits that flow from being ethical, we need to have a stronger commitment to ethics than that it is likely to deliver a combination of profit and peace of mind. If that was all that there was to it, then a commitment to ethical behaviour would be ditched as soon as one could discover a way to boost profits by being unscrupulous. As a matter of fact, there are some greedy and rapacious operators who thrive, for a time, by developing the facade of trustworthiness.
The importance of relationships
I invite you to participate in a thought experiment.
Imagine that you are travelling through unfamiliar country. Having sampled foreign fare you suddenly fall ill. Although not life-threatening, your illness is sufficiently severe to make life uncomfortable. It is therefore wonderful when a stranger approaches with the offer of a cure for your affliction. “Take this” he says. “You'll be right in a moment!” At this the stranger proffers a couple of innocuous looking tablets. Would you take them?
At the very least, you might be inclined to be cautious. Then again, the stranger is offering relief. Sensing your uncertainty, the stranger decides to offer a further piece of information. He says, “Trust me, I'm a politician!”
There was a time when politicians were generally regarded as being trustworthy. Alas, this is not so today. Indeed, as the attached survey results on the ethics / honesty ratings given by the public indicates, there are very few groups (or institutions) that have not lost ground in the estimation of the community at large. Reputations are fragile entities. A good reputation will normally take generations to build. It can be destroyed in a moment. This may seem unfair - especially when the innocent are indiscriminately condemned with the guilty. However, such is the environment in which the issues canvassed in this address need to be considered.
Some might see all of this as providing a challenge for the image-makers. There must be a temptation to turn the problem over to specialists offering the prospect of manufacturing a face that fits the fashion of the times. The trouble is that as image-makers you now have to contend with a highly cynical public that has re-defined the terms of debate.
The key to understanding the point that I am making can be found in Hugh Mackay's research into public perception of corporate ethics. Australia's leading social researcher has found that members of the community tend to think that people in business regard ethics as an "optional extra". Furthermore, he has found that the level of scepticism about the ethics of business is so high that people automatically 'discount' public claims made about the importance of values to a corporation.
Instead of being swayed by images dreamed up by advertising executives, or by glossy codes of conduct, people apply a simple two-part test when trying to assess the ethics of an organisation.
The first question to be asked is by a person is: How do members of this organisation treat me?
Am I treated as if I really matter? Is trouble taken to assess my individual needs and preferences? Or, am I treated according to some sort of stereotype? Am I looked upon as nothing more than a consumer, a convenient source of income?
The second question to be asked is by a person is: How do members of this organisation treat each other?
Do they treat each other with courtesy? Is there an air of mutual respect? Do people seem to be happy in their place of work? Or, is there evidence of low morale, of strained relationships and so on?
Hugh Mackay has shown that the quality of relationships lies at the heart of perceptions about the ethics of organisations. Because we live at a time when there is increasing emphasis on the importance of customer service, the first, fairly obvious test is being addressed. Surprisingly, few managers understand the importance of the second test. Beyond being a foundation for sound management practice and harmonious relationship in the workplace, a climate of respect for one's colleagues will be noted by one's customers and help to reassure them that the industry or company is really serious about its commitment to an ethical approach.
Underlying these findings is a fundamental ethical principle that still seems to inform majority opinion. It might not be expressed in these terms, but I believe that Australians are still in tune with the notion of ‘respect for persons’. More specifically, Australians have a history of identifying with two important virtues; namely those of benevolence and justice. In Australia, these virtues achieve a distinctive expression as the ideas of 'mateship' and giving the other person ‘a fair go’.
While I would be the first to admit that these concepts are frequently abused and that they have lost some of their force, I would argue that the residue of their original meaning still has an effect. What is more, I believe that these concepts offer Australians a distinctive 'handle' on which to hang an indigenous response to the problem of navigating across a difficult and uncertain ethical landscape.
The point in all of this is that it is no longer possible (nor was it ever desirable) to fake the conditions in which trust can be established. Reputations cannot be manufactured, they must be earned. But in order for this to happen, there needs to be some fundamental framework of commitment and concerns on which to build.
How might members of PRIA respond?
It should be clear that this presents a severe challenge for the Adeimantus of this world. However, making this observation is not enough in itself. It does nothing, for example, to resolve the difficulties of members of this institute who have to wrestle with exacting and competing demands. In particular it does nothing to solve the dilemma of the practitioner who is pulled in different directions by a sense of professional standards, on the one hand, and the requirements of an employer or client, on the other.
It seems to me that the only response to this is for members of the PRIA to try to develop a collective response by defining some common areas of best practice that will guide the actions of each. In this respect, I would wish to endorse some of the very practical suggestions made by Susan Davies at this meeting. In particular, Susan's suggestion that the interests of stakeholders be taken into account seems to me to be a substantial response to the kind of research findings being generated by people like Hugh Mackay.
The idea of a pro-active practitioner resonates with some of the ideas that I put forward to a PRIA conference in Sydney in 1991. At that time I said,
It is suggested that there is a developing role to be played by public relations professionals, whether as consultants or within the structures of management. This role is to act as the informed 'conscience' of the corporation. For such managers, their role ought to be expanded to involve the exercise of critical judgement about goals as a matter of course, and not just tactical cunning in attaining them. A wise board should insist that someone in the field of management develop a special capacity for acting as a catalyst for transformational leadership within the corporation. This means going beyond a limited instrumental intelligence towards an understanding and advocacy of substantive moral positions. Who better to fulfil this role than the person in public relations? Above all others it is this person who has, or ought to have, a sense of developing community values. But this is not enough. Like other advisers, the public relations practitioner must do more than merely reflect public opinion. He or she must also be able to interpret this opinion and exercise informed judgement.
Some professionals have always been required to do this - even when to do so might hurt the individual's career. They are people who would agree with Tommy Ross, a pioneer in public relations. He said:
Unless you are willing to resign an account or a job over a matter of principle, it is no use to call yourself a member of the world's newest profession - for you are already a member of the world's oldest.
Those are strong and challenging words. And it's possible that they may not have been spoken in the middle of a recession.
Being pro-active may not be enough. I think that there is also a need for interpersonal accountability. Each member of the Institute should be accountable to the others for their conduct. Membership of the PRIA should be a privilege that is held only for so long as each individual's behaviour renders them worthy.
Beyond technique
Talk of 'best practice' frequently leads people to concentrate on a quasi-technical framework in which measurable standards are defined. The focus is on defining what constitutes superlative technique. But is this enough? Let me state clearly that I think it essential that people aim for technical excellence. However, to leave it at that would be to endorse the development of a lop-sided kind of practitioner who is only concerned with how best to prosecute the means to an end.
While a concern for means is important, let me suggest that the idea of 'best practice' should also encompass the development of skills, understanding and dispositions that allow for excellence in the assessment of ends. It can only be so if you accept my suggestion that members of the Institute should play a vital and creative role in assisting organisations to exercise informed judgement. Informed judgement should reflect on the destination as well as the means of travelling! It is important to ensure that both means and ends can be justified. How many times have we heard statements that boil down to nothing more than a claim that 'the ends justify the means".
All of this suggests that the framework for defining 'best practice' will need to include a fundamental commitment to developing and sustaining what has been called the 'reflective practitioner". In short I would suggest that the PRIA should aim, through its continuing education programme, to develop a person who combines the mastery of technique with a kind of practical wisdom.
So what would such a person look like? I am afraid that this is not for me to define. You are the custodians of your own discipline. However, I do not believe that best practice (in the sense in which I am using the term) can be defined in the abstract. As a matter of course I think that you will only resolve this matter after considerable debate. Some may find this an unpalatable option. Many prefer the comfort of a quick and certain answer - preferably discovered and tested by others! Unfortunately, there is little to be gained by the wholesale adoption of somebody else' idea of what makes for best practice.
In practical terms you might form a working party to devise a discussion paper. In conjunction with this, you may try to identify practitioners who display the kinds of skills and qualities that are generally regarded as being an outstanding example of all that is best in your field of endeavour. Such people may later serve as mentors to new members of the Institute. Perhaps you can publish practice notes or some such thing. You will know, far better than I, the best way to proceed.
This is not the place to go into detail. So I will make a final observation. Bearing in mind Hugh Mackay's research it is essential that any definition of best practice be applied across the board. This means that it should hold good for all relationships - including those which are 'internal' to the practice of public relations. How else might you hold yourselves out as being able to offer practical help for those who need guidance through the ethical maze? In such circumstances, to preach and not practice would be indefensible.
I have been trying to suggest that any idea of best practice must go beyond technique. At the last, the ultimate responsibility for doing the right thing will fall on the individual. This means that each will have to face the uncertainty of the ethical dimension and cope as best as one can. To do so will take courage, and in particular, moral courage.
Society vs the ‘enterprise association’
In the current social environment there are many who would argue that a genuine commitment to ethics is an unrealisable ideal. Many think that sound ethical principles are fine in theory but that they can't really be applied in practice. To try to do so is to be nostalgic. They say that to promote virtue is to be old fashioned, to hark back to ideas only useful in a different era. They ask us to be 'realistic' and to embrace the 'modern' way of doing things. This plea is often nothing more than an ill disguised call to allow for the survival of the fittest. Perhaps such people are right. Perhaps a dog-eat-dog world will be the most efficient. And perhaps efficiency is the only value that we need to embrace in the search for a worthwhile life. Or perhaps efficiency is only one of a number of important values that we must learn to juggle across an unpredictable landscape.
Those of us who are serious about the need to make ethical considerations an explicit concern in our daily lives must face up to this challenge. After all, what if our critics in the market place are right? What if the prime (and exclusive) aim in life really is to maximise our satisfaction of wants (and not just needs)? What if the liberty of the individual (important as it is) transcends all other considerations? What if it is through competition alone that we find the ultimate expression of our humanity?
Most people have a fairly good feel for what it means to live in a ‘society’. But what about an ‘enterprise association’? John Casey has tried to describe the latter:
We might imagine a city founded purely as a trading post. The laws of the city will reflect its original purpose, and have to be understood in relation to this purpose. Contracts will be vigorously enforced however unreasonable or unjust, because it is of the highest importance to retain the confidence of those with whom the city trades. Indeed, the notion of a contract being 'unjust' will have no meaning. All education will be subordinated to the need to produce an ‘enterprise culture’, and no subject will be studied as an end in itself. The rulers of the city will regard themselves essentially as the managers of the enterprise. Their tasks will be to maximise wealth and promote trade.
Is this so very far away from what we now experience? Some may say that this is an accurate and even attractive picture of the type of world in which we live. But does such a view of our relationships miss something of vital importance? For example, do we exist simply to "facilitate the exchange of commodities" or is there something more? Is there, for example, a need to value friendships, to realise that other people can make a claim on us? Is living in a society only possible when we recognise that each person is bound to others within a network of formal and informal relationships?
The challenge facing us today is to make a choice about which alternative we want. Do we want a society of citizens in which something like the virtues of justice and benevolence make sense? Or do we want the enterprise association in which each of us is little more than a purveyor or consumer of commodities? The latter consigns us to a place where the exercise of virtue will seem an unattainable luxury, where no person can afford to display moral courage.
So to conclude. I return to the questions lying at the heart of this address; namely - how are we to determine the worth of placing ethics at the forefront of our concerns? How then might I answer without sounding glib? What might I say to those whose daily experience confronts them with the need to justify (as much to themselves as to anyone else) each decision to do what is right and good? My answer must surely be to acknowledge again that there are no easy answers; to acknowledge that the costs associated with living an ethical life are real and often substantial. But I must also answer that questions about the ethical life take us well beyond issues able to be determined by a kind of cost / benefit analysis. This is because it is in the ethical dimension of our existence that we encounter the truth about our unique potential as persons. The choices we make present us with an opportunity to cast off the shroud of necessity woven about the threads of our animal nature and transcend the mundane. In short, we are free to choose the right and the good.
There is a kind of natural heroism displayed by those who choose to live a good life. We recognise their courage because we know how easy it would be to do otherwise. Courage of this type can be displayed in every forum of human endeavour - no less in the world of business and the professions.
So, I want to conclude by saying something about a different type of hero that I think that all of us are still looking for. I speak of the person who displays moral courage - the ability to stand up for what is right, even when to do so involves significant personal cost. Physical threats tend to be immediate and intense. Because of this, the corresponding type of courage is sometimes treated as if more ‘real’. But both are equally important and both give rise to heroes.
Some think that heroes are forged in the white heat of the dangerous moment. But there is another kind of hero, the person of quiet decency whose achievement is only built over an entire career. We are struck by the intensity of lightning, yet fail to mention the thunder that rolls on into the distance long after the lightning's moment has passed. We are captured by the tumultuous descent of the waterfall while the steady progress of the river is ignored. And we marvel at the ocean's power unaware of the fact that we stand upon ground claimed for us by the silent witness of the ancient cliff. In each case the spectacular is only made possible by the patient and mundane.
In one sense, Rembrandt's paintings are a magnificent illusion. In another sense they are a radiant kind of truth, made by a man using nothing more than the pigments of the earth. If being true to the elements can render such marvels how much more might come from fidelity to our ideals?
Dr Simon Longstaff is Executive Director of St James Ethics Centre.
A version of thi article was first published in 1994.
© St James Ethics Centre
