Above video: A (relatively) successful college dropout addressing the Standard University Class of 2005. A lifelong learner until death.
If you ask my mother, she’ll likely say I have an answer for everything. And while I do consider her to be correct (I wouldn’t second guess her if I were you), I find it highly unlikely we’re speaking with the same vernacular.
Believe it or not, however, there was one question that – until only recently – left me trembling and tongue-tied, without even the prospect of a coherent response. It was a query that I dreaded at every presentation, lunch meeting and after-hours social: So, Derek, what exactly do you do in your job?
Invariably, there were only two types of people who asked this question: students and other PR folk who were interested solely on a surface level; and, friends and family who really didn’t care yet were genuinely confused. In both cases, I found myself left with about five seconds of attentiveness, which were usually followed by five additional minutes of awkward, forced explanation, and a whole lot of sweating.
Then, one day, on a return flight back home from Saskatchewan, it hit me: The perfect analogy.
“Just imagine for a moment,” I’d explain, “tens and tens of small children running around with books of matches. My job is to make sure they don’t burn down the house.”
At first, it came across as somewhat of a joke – an icebreaker. But then it evolved into something much, much more. It became my personal encapsulation of the PR practice, and embodied the very essence of how I view myself as a both a communicator and, by definition, as a professional.
Our job is, when you think about it, very easy to define. We solve problems. There’s not a whole lot else to it. Sure, there’s a ton of intricate strategy and ‘deliverables’ and a gamut of technical lingo that I’m pretty sure most who teach in this industry don’t fully understand; but the raison d’etre for our work is consistent. People need our help because they can’t (or won’t) do something on their own. Our purpose is to analyze that situation and come up with a solution that is predicated on common sense and the absence of ignorance.
Now, that may come across as a tad harsh, and I want to make it perfectly clear that common sense does not imply a lack of creativity or managed risk. It is merely the reality of why we’re paid to do what we do – particularly at an executive level. We are paid for our ability to deliver real solutions to tough problems.
I’m sure that my title to this blog post caught some of you off-guard. Perhaps it even put you on the defensive. But if modern day capitalism has taught us anything, it’s that you don’t have to be the smartest or most educated person to excel at your profession. Steve Jobs dropped out of college. Wendy’s founder Dave Thomas didn’t even graduate high school. If education isn’t the base measure, the overall notion of being dumb isn’t exactly correct in its traditional sense, is it?
That’s because the intangible quality that produces successful leaders in public relations – and, for that matter, business – is not necessarily measured by an intellectual quotient (or IQ); it’s measured by emotional intelligence and by how quick one can cognitively adjust to circumstances.
But those words are way too long for my liking, so let’s break it down. In layman’s terms, what does that mean?
Well, this isn’t a thesis. Although, it is in fact, one of the lengthier pieces I’ve written in the past year, so feel free to continue this conversation and weigh its merits on your own free time. But a few things, I believe, are certain:
We need to teach problem solving skills to both post-secondary students as well as senior practitioners on a continual basis – always learn, learn all ways. We need to laugh more and love where we work. We need to do a better job recognizing the importance of teams and in the value of listening. Oh, and above all else, we need to use our heads.
You can reach me at derek.lothian@cme-mec.ca or on Twitter at @dereklothian.
