I don't mean to sound insensitive or flip, but a few years ago, I came up with an economically and socially beneficial way to address the hunger problem in New York. I call it the PR solution.
Here's the plan: Almost every day, public-relations agencies and the PR people at the nation's big companies put on luncheons at which their executives express big thoughts about the big issues of the day. The intention?
Getting these comments written up by the invited reporters and editors.
But such events work (and insure the continued employment of the PR people) only if the inviters attract enough invitees. And since the journalism business these days is in a depression that makes the 1930s look like boom times, it's harder than ever to round up a room of ink-stained (or computer-blinded) wretches looking for a free lunch and a few quotes.
So here's where the hungry people come in. Give these down-on-their luck folks business suits and send them to midtown hotels with business cards bearing their name and the inscription “freelance financial journalist.”
If pressed when confronting the registration table gatekeeper at one of the countless media events going on, they could say they're the New York correspondent for the Zagreb Business Journal. If that raises an eyebrow, they merely have to add that they're also the editor of ZagrebBusiness.com, which will impress the gatekeeper and insure that they get whisked into the lunch. From then on, all they have to do is smile and make a miniscule amount of small talk since no one is ever interested in what a journalist has to say.
At this time of year, the luncheon opportunities for phony journalists are rich indeed.
November and December are the months when anybody who's anybody in the money management business holds a press lunch to dazzle the financial press with their forecasts for next year. The beauty of these events is that they're a surefire draw for the financial firms that put them on.
Reporters are suckers for forecasts, especially if lots of charts and numerical mumbo jumbo is thrown into to mix. And best of all, no journalist in the room remembers or even thinks to ask about whether the previous year's forecasts were wrong or right, or cost investors lots of money. That's way too embarrassing and would only throw cold water on the event's bonhomie.
Phony journalists would be ideal additions to these sessions because they would nod approvingly at every comment and show the requisite — and totally honest — appreciation for having been allowed to take part. The fact that they would never write up any of the speakers' comments wouldn't be much of a problem, because at least they didn't screw up the managers' messages, which is what the few real journalists in the room probably will be accused of doing after their stories appear.
If any advisers want to see how my social action plan would actually work, please drop me a line and tell me when over the next few weeks you'll be in New York. I'll run over to Kinko's and print you a business card, and we'll try it out.
