September 2001

by Edward J. Barks

It is one of the most maligned words in the annals of journalism. It is the one word that sets the blood of reporters and credible media trainers to boiling.

It’s the dreaded four-letter word: Spin.

People who spin when talking to reporters are basically trying to weasel their way out of answering what are in most cases legitimate questions.
Webster’s defines spin as, “a state of mental confusion.” Indeed. Mental confusion can be the only explanation for anyone who attempts to ignore a reporter’s inquiries by trying to spin her way out of a situation.

Now, I am not suggesting that you voluntarily air your dirty laundry to reporters who pose tough questions. But it is imperative that you be responsive and acknowledge the query as we teach in our Barks Communications media training workshops. Having responded, however, it is your right to move directly into what you want to say. Consider every question an opportunity to discuss your message.

For a prime example of the maddening nature of spin, we need look no further than the Sunday morning television talk shows. If Cokie Roberts or Tim Russert asks a guest whether it is day or night, it is altogether possible that the interviewee will launch into a dissertation on how much he likes the color red.

The most recent example of the failure of spin – and a stunning one it is – comes to us courtesy of Rep. Gary Condit (D-Calif.). Many pundits have offered their two cents as to why Condit failed so miserably.

I want to highlight one element that was missed by most analysts: Much of his problem stems from the fact that Condit’s lawyers were driving the media train. They clumsily told him to practice spin instead of working with a professional who could tutor him in good communications policy. The congressman began his interview with ABC News’ Connie Chung with curt, legalistic answers that demonstrated no sense of caring or remorse.

Lawyers may earn their keep in the courtroom. But far too many have a tin ear when it comes to appealing to the court of public opinion. There’s no shame in that. Like accountants, bricklayers, and high tech workers, they simply have not been trained, nor do they have experience, in that environment. I have a standing deal when lawyers are involved in the counseling of a client: I agree not to advise with respect to legal strategy. In return, I expect to be given free rein to do my job of helping to craft messages that are positive, that resonate with the public, and that are, above all, truthful.

Condit had it within his power to set the interview on a more positive track if he had avoided those brusque, lawyer-like responses. Imagine what a different impression the viewing public would have had if he said, “My main concern is that we find Chandra Levy and, I pray, find her safe and sound.” Or if he had replied, “Connie, I can’t imagine anyone would want to harm someone who cares as much about others as Chandra does.”

Instead, Condit’s legal team instructed him to dole out ham-handed attempts at spin. His sad performance should nail the lid shut on the case for employing that failed tactic.

There are good reasons why spin is the bane of reporters and responsible media training experts. It’s dishonest. It’s impolite. It doesn’t work. When it comes to working with the press, spin is a sin.