Spokesperson or flack?

Rick Morain

Words matter.

It’s why government agencies and private corporations pay big bucks to hire someone to tell their story. Call that person a communications director, or a spokesperson, or a public relations employee, or a publicist, or a press agent, or a flack.

Did you get that? How we paint people’s job assignment indicates what we think of them, or how they do that job.

For corporate entities in the business world, spokespeople often take the point position for damage control. If an automaker’s new vehicles are suddenly involved in a series of accidents, for example, the company’s communications director is likely to release a statement to the effect that “the safety of our customers and everyone on the nation’s streets, roads, and highways is our Number One priority.”

That may technically be true, since if an automaker makes vehicles without regard to safety, it will quickly “see sales plummet” (a loaded term for “lose sales”) and/or be “hauled into court” (another example: “sued” a is more neutral term). But in any event, staying out of trouble is certainly a priority for the company,

The corporation’s top priority, though, may well be to make money. The “communications director’s” (“flack’s”) statement seeks to assure the driving public that, of course, the company remains perpetually vigilant to protect people from any product faults.

In case there are lawsuits, we can count on the quick appearance of a statement from the company that the suits are “without merit,” and that the company will “vigorously defend” its innocence.

In the world of politics and government, the spokesperson’s duty is the same: to protect the official or the agency from criticism and to create a likable image in the public mind.

Of course, often an official, or a candidate, does his or her own flacking. Some of them are particularly talented in that regard: we call them “effective,” or some such term. Some are not so good: we call them “awkward,” “bumbling,” “liar,” “loser,” or something along that line.

Some responses from officials and their spokespeople have become so standard in recent months that we can predict what’s coming. Some examples:

When a government or one of its military arms or police officers kills a civilian, we’re likely to hear that the incident is “under investigation.” In the U.S. there’s a decent likelihood there will be an eventual incident report.

But not so much in some other nations. Israeli military forces, for instance, have killed tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians during their incursions into Gaza in search of Hamas militants. When such a killing seems particularly inexcusable, at least from the outside, Israel’s spokespeople will say that the incident is under investigation.

But we rarely hear the results of the probe. That may be the fault of the media. But it also may be the result of the Israeli government’s or military’s expectation that once the incident recedes into the past, the public’s attention shifts elsewhere, and the need to account for the killing becomes less important. “Under investigation,” in such instances, really means “we think it will go away when you lose interest.”

When the “under investigation” response is used, generally it is followed by an immediate explanation stating that the ones who did the deed were “acting in keeping with the law.” Case in point: the recent ICE killing of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis. If that were incontrovertibly the case, why investigate?

Another example: it’s become standard operating procedure for some officials, when asked why they did something that appeared patently out of line with what constituents expected, to respond that they were trying to correct something that “was not in line with the President’s (or the Governor’s, or the agency’s) priorities.”

Well, duh. Of course. If it wasn’t what the official wanted to happen, it didn’t match his or her priorities. But the actual question was why the official took that action, not whether it lined up with his or her purposes. Why did the official do something for which many people want an explanation? “Not in line with priorities” doesn’t cut it.

Such an answer is like its close cousin: the official “decided to go in another direction.” That’s the same thing. “Another direction” is a meaningless response. What it actually means is “my boss doesn’t want to tell you the actual reason for what he or she did, so you don’t get to know.”

Another example: the current federal administration refers to millions of migrants as “illegals,” even if they have applied for asylum and are patiently waiting for their case to be decided by immigration courts. They may have entered the country under our asylum conditions, long established by law and practice, but since they haven’t yet achieved that official status, the government calls them “illegals.”

It’s like calling people accused of breaking the law “criminals” before they’ve had their day in court.

President Trump’s tweets in particular rely on the most extreme terms to make his point. Look no further than his definition of Somalis in Minneapolis as “garbage,” even if they are born in the U.S. or have been naturalized. His “point” is out and out racism.

A closing point: columnists, like me, are not immune from using loaded words and phrases. But a column is designed to be a statement of the writer’s opinion as well as a group of facts. That’s not usually the official rationale for paid “flacks” who claim to proclaim “just the facts, ma’am.” People can accept or reject a columnist’s opinions. As constituents and voters, though, they deserve basic truth, not opinion, from their leaders, and their leaders’ spokespersons.

A leader, and a flack, whose statement is opinion should say so. People deserve that much.

Rick Morain is a reporter and columnist with the Jefferson Herald.