End of Semester Reflection

I took this class to gain a greater understanding of the theory and practice of technical writing. The first half of the semester gave me a lot to think about the practice of professional writing in general. I appreciated that Cornelissen gave an international perspective. However, I felt he often avoided deep analysis of issues, more often relating stories on corporate communications without questioning the corporate perspective. He also focused almost exclusively on marketing and public relations, rarely touching on technical writing. 

The Industry Report I wrote in the first half gave me an outlet to focus specifically on technical writing. This assignment gave me a preview of the focus of the semester's second half. I found it difficult to pin down a definition of technical communication, even within one industry. My research for the report also helped me appreciate how marketing and other forms of writing can have blurred boundaries with technical writing. I had to carry this lesson into the Resume and Cover Letter assignment. All five of the job ads were for some form of marketing or journalism position, so I had to spin my own technical background into reasonable pitches. This forced me to think very carefully about how to present my experience. The ability to consider audience so carefully is a skill necessary not just in job-hunting, but in all communication.

I appreciated the deep focus on technical communication as a profession in the second half of the semester. I truly didn't know there was such a rich background of scholarship behind the profession, and the efforts to standardize it. The class responses to these readings were very interesting. While my own thoughts came from the perspective of a practicing technical writer, it was useful to see the perspectives of those with other jobs approached the same subject. I think future scholarship should focus on the realities of the 21st century workforce, which is often ambivalent, if not outright hostile, to formal certification. This is a discussion that a scholar of general corporate communication like Cornelissen can actually inform.

I wish we could have had some deeper discussion on these topics, but online classes inevitably limit engagement. I think this class managed as well as possible given the constraints. I feel like I got a good idea of my classmates' perspectives, even if I sometimes missed the nuances and depth of in-person interaction.

Kline and Barker

I appreciate how Kline and Barker's idea of professional consciousness contributes to an actual sense of professionalism among practitioners. It reminds me of Light's points about how important the desire itself for professional status is. Kline and Barker's consciousness, in this sense, is a kind of collective consciousness, shared among (ideally) all technical communicators, and technical communication academics.

However, I wonder how achievable this is when considering Carliner's delineation of approaches to professionalism. Kline and Barker use the example of a Society for Technical Communication (STC) project with both practicing and academic participants. I think it's fair to say that most, if not all, the participants could be classified as formal professionals. While Carliner notes that some quasiprofessionals may join professional organizations, I'm not sure many would be inclined to participate in the summit the authors describe.

In this case, it's likely most participants already buy in to the project of professionalism. The barrier to creating a professional consciousness among these practitioners and academics is probably lower than it would be for non-members of organizations like STC. How likely are contraprofessionals to participate in a project like this? The first part of Kline and Barker's CANFA set of characteristics is "Collaborate." The more pressing grounds for collaboration are between those not currently engaged in professional efforts and those who are—regardless of whether they're academics or not.

Carliner

After several weeks of articles about the nature of professionalization, and whether technical communication is a profession, I feel like the Carliner article clarified the conversation for me. Until now, we've mostly been considering the question of whether technical communication is a profession, or not. It seemed like you had to fall on one side of the question or the other. I think Carliner makes the point that it's not so clear.

The issue can't be so clearly black and white because, as Carliner notes, different stakeholders hold a spectrum of views. It's just not correct to say that everyone is either fully on board with professionalization, or totally opposed to it. I have a feeling the position of quasiprofessionalism fits many people's perspectives, and these views aren't fully pro- or anti-professionalization. 

Many employers may fit into the position of contraprofessionalism. Why insist on external standards when your only concern is finding someone who can do the job you want? Likewise, many organization members (especially active ones) may champion formal professionalism, and the certification it encourages. This leaves a lot of practicing communicators whose own feelings may fall somewhere in between.

On a side note, I found Carliner's definitions to occupation and profession to be baffling. They're not only different from the uses we've read so far; they're practically inverted from what I'd expect. He even notes that what he calls an occupation is referred to as a profession in other articles in the same issue. While he notes that his terminology is different, he doesn't, in my opinion, justify it.

Hallier & Malone

I didn't appreciate the historical context of Light's essay when I first read it last week. I was able to read it in a contemporary context. That speaks to both the continuing challenges in the technical communication field, and Light's foresight in articulating them. As I'd expect from an accomplished technical writer, he explains his topic clearly and concisely. Hallier and Malone add context by shedding light (sorry) on the author's own life.

I wonder how much Light's extraordinary credentials played into his suggestions for professionalization. Five degrees is remarkable in any fields, and in any era. His career-long focus on health sciences may speak to the importance he places on a scientific background for technical writers. Focus on subject matter knowledge, as opposed to some general standards, has been mentioned as one of the challenges to professionalization of technical communication that we've read about.

Reading Light's suggestions in a 21st-century context, I think that a scientific background is just as important as he claimed in 1960. However, I see it as less of a preparation for writing in some specific field, and more as training in critically analyzing and translating scientific information in general. Clearly explaining some of the world's most opaque and esoteric knowledge speaks seriously to a technical writer's merits.

Light & Malone

I took away from the previous articles by Faber and Savage that there was no easy way to define professionalization, and that technical communication strove for that status, but hadn’t quite reached it. The articles by Light and Malone expand on these topics. Light makes a point of emphasizing how important status—specifically “professional” status—is to practitioners. I understand how both an inner drive for success and the desire to be recognized by others’ standards can increase satisfaction. It’s not unusual that technical communicators would want a status that improves how they feel about their work.

Malone’s article elaborates on how, not just why, technical communication organizations have strived for just such a status. I take from this extensive history the lesson that the effort to attain professional recognition itself can raise the very standards expected of professionals. While I’m as much a fan of Robert Hamlett’s term “publications engineer” as Light is (which is to say, not at all), I appreciate his Code of Ethics for Technical Writers. Such an effort is hardly trivial. It forces practitioners to think seriously about the value of their work, regardless of context, client, or company. All technical communicators adhering to such standards, no matter how basic, would undeniably be a step toward professional status.

I still can’t say that technical communication has achieved professional status. There is still a serious disparity between the expectations of technical communication societies and most employers of technical communicators. While I agree with Malone that the efforts of those societies to push for professional standards has yielded achievements, the fact that the effort is still unfolding tells me that some crucial piece has yet to fall into place.

Job ad analysis

I analyzed five job ads for how their language, format, and content convey the expectations and requirements for applicants. These insights will help applicants write resumes and cover letters, and prepare for interviews appropriately for each position.

Attachment: Job Ad Analysis

Technically professional communicators? (Savage)

Savage wonders whether technical communication has reached the level of a profession. Although he notes that progress has been made, and continues, he sounds skeptical. I have to agree. Technical communication can't be explained as distinctly as law, medicine, or teaching. Those are professions that, while one may follow a circuitous route to, have fairly distinct requirements to practice. The common practice of technical communicators entering the occupation from other fields doesn't strike me as inherently nonsensical, much less wrong.

Maybe it's useful to question why an occupation develops into a distinct profession, in addition to how. Lawyers, doctors, and teachers have responsibilities to a wider public, at least theoretically, as Faber argued. This is why we have strict licensing standards for them. It wasn't always so. Go back a century, and a degree or two may be dropped. Two centuries ago, a practitioner may have needed nothing more than an apprenticeship, or membership in the educated gentry class. The standards that we now associate with professionalization developed because society demanded it of these people, with whom we trust our legal representation, health, and education, respectively.

Is the same demand there for technical communicators? I'm not so sure. This in no way diminishes the importance of good technical documentation. As Savage notes, the dismissive attitude of simply shipping cheap, quickly-written documents can seriously damage an organization's products and reputation. But this doesn't quite meet the measure of licensing and certification that the recognized professions use. As I said in my response to Faber, knowledge is becoming increasingly specialized. If the specialists themselves don't have the time or ability to communicate as well or as receptively as they used to, society should demand that our communicators be credentialed.

Professional communication (Faber)

The notion of “the professions” that Faber uses in his article is interesting, but also comes across as very quaint. This probably has some relation to the issue (as he considers it) of increasing de-professionalization of the fields he considers. It’s a seductive quality to have for a job, to be able to trace it back to the medieval notion of guilds of practitioners jealously guarding their secrets. But I think the era of doctors, lawyers, and academics being separate and elite has long since passed. I’m not entirely sold on Faber’s position that this is largely, or even partly, due to the use of “professional communication” as a “catchall term,” divorced from his definition of the professions.

I’m glad Faber brings up information availability as a factor in de-professionalization. I can’t tell if Faber views this as more negative than positive. It’s true that a professional message can be “immediately subject to ridicule or challenge” (326), but is this uniformly bad? When it leads to children not being vaccinated because their parents simply refuse to heed the advice of doctors, it’s probably detrimental. But do we really want to go back to a time when access to “elite knowledge” was privileged? This doesn’t need to coexist with disrespect of professionals’ pronouncements. Isn’t it possible that greater access to knowledge can make a general audience more receptive and understanding of professionals, as opposed to “priests” passing down mystical knowledge?

As we enter an era of wider access to knowledge, it is also an era of greater specialization of knowledge. It takes a higher degree of precision and a narrower focus to make discoveries or expand human understanding. This is a natural product of centuries of invention and expansion of knowledge. If anything, we need professionals more than ever to explain what they do to audiences. A century ago, a medical doctor probably could have understood the broad strokes of the average physics journal article. Not likely today. What happens when the average person theoretically has access to the sum of human knowledge, but can’t understand most of it? Some space must always exist for professional communication.

Faber, B. (2002). Professional Identities: What is Professional about Professional Communication? Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 16, 306-337.

Industry Report

Abstract
The scientific technology industry creates software for use by scientists and engineers. Drawing on the examples of National Instruments and a practicing scientist-turned-software-developer, an overview of the the industry's professionals, their skills, and duties, is presented. An examination is then given of how technical communicators work within the industry.

Full report

Social Media (Cornelissen Ch. 14)

I thought Cornelissen’s last chapter was a decent ending to the book. Continuing from the last two chapters, I felt he finally showed more of the critical eye that I had been looking for in earlier chapters. The subject, social media, is also something that looks toward the future. I think it could have been woven more into earlier chapters as well. How companies respond to issues and crises by social media isn’t a point for future consideration. It’s happening right now.

As rude as Nestle’s Facebook spokesperson was in Cornelissen’s case study, I found it refreshing that a massive corporation suddenly spoke in a blunt, conversational manner. It feels more honest than the bland press releases we usually get. It’s just too bad this person had to be so rude. Immediately after reading the chapter, a friend shared a link to a petition to boycott a large company for its water use in drought-stricken California. The company: Nestle.

I wondered how the multinational was responding to this issue. Well, the response seems to be a little more mature this time. In response to a post promising the company is “looking back” on the year, so it can “continue to do better”, several people posted links to articles criticizing Nestle for pumping water out of San Bernardino National Forest. The company account responded with more-or-less identical posts linking to an official response to the allegation.

Nestlé US is looking back so we can continue to do better. Read about how we’re putting more good in food, our sustainability efforts, community partnerships, and more: http://bit.ly/1j90T6Y

Posted by Nestlé on Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Another post invited readers to look into Nestle’s “commitments to environmental sustainability.” One person asked whether “So, are you as a company going to take any accountability for the drought in California and your part in taking so much water when they cannot afford to waste or take one drop more?” The company assured her that they “share [her] concern for conserving water in California and around the world” and linked to a Q&A about the company’s operations and the California drought. Another person responded with a link to a YouTube video of the Nestle CEO allegedly calling water “not a human right.” The company account replied by charging that “this article takes our Chairman’s views out of context. He certainly believes that everyone, everywhere should have access to water” before linking to an interview with the CEO. The use of the phrase “this article” in response to a video tells me it’s another canned reply.

Did you know 25 of Nestlé's factories in the US achieved zero waste to landfill status this year?It gets better: We’ve...

Posted by Nestlé on Friday, October 9, 2015

I am, by nature, deeply cynical about these matters. However, regardless of Nestle’s actual policies, I’ll give the company credit for clearly improving its social media communication over what Cornelissen depicted in his case study. It may be impossible to respond to each critical post (and there are many), but they appear to be doing their best to come across as straight-forward. The official statements and Q&A’s linked from the social media account aren’t even all that terrible. I suppose we should be thankful for small (PR) blessings.

Corporate citizens and leaders (Cornelissen Ch. 12 & 13)

These two chapters took on a more critical analysis than in previous chapters. Cornelissen’s case studies of British Airways’ leadership changes (234-7), and Kraft’s takeover of Cadbury (252-4) involved the kind of contentious situations that are part of corporate reality, including layoffs and strikes. I was pleased to read Cornelissen point out that simply giving lip service to corporate social responsibility (CSR) wasn’t effective. As he points out, most organizations’ non-profit-driven commitments come in the form of “glossy social and environmental reports that are often more about style than substance” (245). I think genuine CSR takes commitment to organizational change and strong leadership, and not just public relations.

I suspect most organizations treat CSR as an additive change. A food company may set up scholarships for nutrition science majors, or a utilities company may commit to an initiative making “green jobs.” These actions may making positive differences, but they may also just be a way to offset an otherwise-negative reputation on social responsibility. To qualify for Cornelissen’s definition of a true corporate “citizen,” I think changes need to be substitutive, and that takes both transformational leadership to drive, and transactional leadership to implement. How likely is it that companies will truly commit to the triple bottom line, when just meeting financial needs can be difficult?

Cornelissen mentions the Global Reporting Initiative (GRI), which sets reporting standards on many CSR metrics for organizations. While a noble initiative, this is a non-governmental organization whose standards organizations are not obligated to adhere to. I perused GRI’s website, and the output largely looks like the glossy reports that are so easy to put out and overlook. I think the best that can be said is that these reports provide documented commitments that organizations can be judged against. But again, this is an NGO. Any commitments are voluntary. Our commitments as actual citizens are not subject to our whims. Without strong leadership commitment to organizational change that drives CSR, corporate citizenship is just an idea.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE. 

Responding to transgressions (Cornelissen Ch. 10 & 11)

In reading Cornelissen’s chapters on issues management and crisis communication, I looked for connections between both areas. His approach seems to focus on defensive actions companies can take, whether proactively or reactively. As a result, I don’t see as full of a discussion of transgressions (206) as they deserve. How does a company environmentally scan for harmful actions it may take? Cornelissen writes mostly from the viewpoint of how companies can identify and swat those pesky stakeholders who might oppose corporate policies.

I wondered how a crisis like General Motors’ ignition switch scandal, in which a known defect lead to over 100 deaths, could have been scanned for. Does a decade-long cover-up fall into either DESTEP or SWOT scans (183-4)? It is strictly technological, and is certainly a weakness, but probably not in the ways Cornelissen defines those terms. The fact is, this is a crisis that born of a very poor response to another crisis, which was simply a result of poor engineering and management.

I’m surprised at how matter-of-factly Cornelissen presents denial, excuses, and attack and intimidation as legitimate strategies to respond to a crisis (208). Yes, companies can and do respond in those ways, but surely we should consider them unfortunate exceptions. Cornelissen devotes nearly three full pages to Tata’s response to a terrorist attack, a crisis it had no part in causing (211-3). He gives two thirds of a page to the Maclaren pushchair scandal, a product defect causing serious harm (203). He focuses this case study on lamenting the impact to the company’s reputation for a defect that was known about for 10 years.

I’m trying to connect this discussion to the previous chapter on employee communication. Yes, companies should have contingency plans on how to communicate externally during a crisis. But surely the biggest takeaway from a transgression is to improve internal communication. I think these crises, which are not uncommon, deserve a richer discussion. Reputation is important, but defensive responses won’t prevent the same issues from re-occurring.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE.

The sound of corporate silence (Cornelissen Ch. 8 & 9)

I felt Chapter 8 covered mostly similar topics as Chapter 7, so I’ll focus on Chapter 9. The discussion of communication with employees reminded me of Chapter 3’s discussion of stakeholder classification and management. Employees are undeniably stakeholders. But they’re not likely shareholders. Even if they are, they’re (very) minority shareholders. How does an organization communicate with such a large and important bloc of stakeholders who don’t hold immediate or critical power as individuals?

I don’t see many companies with good answers. What Cornelissen calls organizational silence (170) is very real. Even when employee opinions are solicited, I think most people have an implicit bias in favor of uncritical or insubstantial feedback. Why put your neck on the line when you can tell the boss what they want to hear? I’m intrigued by Cornelissen’s example of HPCL’s use of workshops for employees to give feedback and decide their own visions for the company (168-169). I question how possible this is for most companies to pull off. I’m also skeptical of the results. “Going global” was truly the biggest takeaway from the employees at the bottom of the ladder?

My own experience and intuition better matches the example of IBM (174-177). IBM allowed wide freedom to comment, and unsurprisingly, got blunt and sometimes cynical feedback. I see this as an unblocking of the dam of organizational silence. It’s too bad it had to come in a single moment, and not as a matter of practice. The latter would be more manageable and less painful. The problem of silence seems to be related almost exclusively to negative feedback. This is why I’m so skeptical that what HPLC employees were holding back was a deep desire to see their petroleum company expand into an “energy company.”

This is not to say that constantly soliciting negative feedback is a solution. The companies that engage in this the most are probably those trendy tech firms with a name recognition as enviable as their benefits packages. While a practice of constant, blunt feedback might create more honest communication, it can also lead to high stress and turnover.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE.

Re-cycling research (Cornelissen Ch. 7)

The most important insight I took from this chapter was the assertion that the research results of a marketing campaign can form the audit data for another cycle of the campaigns. This allows companies to continually refine their relationship with stakeholders. Theoretically, if the methods are sound, this should perpetually keep most stakeholders satisfied. With the forums for feedback getting wider, and the timelines in which to give it becoming shorter, this perpetual cycle of research should be increasingly prominent.

A great example of this is Domino’s Pizza. In 2009, the company sought to change its reputation as last place on customers’ taste buds. While the its reputation rankings were from a quantitative survey of stakeholders’ preferences, Domino’s used qualitative focus groups, surveys, and social-media feedback to audit specific comments about its pizza. The harsh criticism the company received was not only used as the basis for improvements, but as the content for a clever marketing campaign after recipes were adjusted.

While the objectives of the campaign (improve reputation) clearly came from the quantitative brand rankings, I suspect that the planning and execution did not so much come from the qualitative feedback. I think it’s fair to say that Domino’s knew its reputation was already in the dumpster, and was proactively seeking a way to use that fact as jumping-off point for change.

This counter-intuitive strategy (“Look at how much you hate us!”) may have worked even if the recipe hadn’t been tweaked too much, but to Domino’s credit, they also measured stakeholders’ feedback of the new pizza. This time, they used a quantitative survey method to gather customers’ evaluation on the quality of food and service as it’s ordered.

I don’t think most companies to resort to the dramatic actions that Domino’s took, unless they are in truly dire straits regarding their reputation. This is, after all, a gimmick that should only work once. However, their methodology of letting quantitative rankings guide qualitative audits that flow into quantitative results provides a perpetual cycle of stakeholder feedback and continuous improvement. It may take significant up-front investment, but once the cycle is begun, it could be part of business as usual.

New vision, new image, and how to get there (Cornelissen Ch. 5 & 6)

Reading through Cornelissen’s many examples of corporate communication strategies, the overriding theme that develops is one of expanding visions. Most companies want to be defined in the widest way. Is there any company these days that doesn’t want to be associated with “innovation”? I’m more interested in cases where a company decided it needed to narrow its focus. It’s easy to communicate that you want to be bigger. How do you tell stakeholders it’s time to think small?

Cornelissen does bring up a case that I’d argue is a possible example. His brief discussion of Research in Motion’s rebranding as BlackBerry focuses mostly on the type and content of the company’s messaging. He doesn’t delve deeply into the company’s problems, but to say that it was “struggling” against Samsung, Google, and Apple is an understatement. Rebranding the company with its signature product was not a just narrowing of communication focus, it was a Hail Mary pass.

I think an even more illustrative example of desperately-needed narrowing of vision is that of Yahoo! This is a company whose communication strategy has needed tinkering for many years. I mean, it’s got an exclamation point in its name. An exclamation point I will omit from the rest of this post. Once synonymous with search, Yahoo was the front page of Web 1.0. Today, it is better identified with bloat. It’s a search engine, a news source, a photo-sharing site, and a video-streaming site, and it keeps broadening its reach.

In 2013, Yahoo began a rebranding campaign that included introducing a new logo. The campaign included releasing 30 different logos in 30 days. I’m torn on whether this is symbolic association or emotional message style. It is literally symbolic, in the sense that it’s a symbol. However, Yahoo’s justification for the campaign was the emotional responses they received from people shown various new logos. Both message types could work with the strategic intent of the campaign, which I think is to improve stakeholder awareness of a brand with an image that’s hard to distinguish. Put another way, if Yahoo is such a sprawling enterprise, they have to find a way to make it stand out that is above and apart from its muddled identity.

The reigning search champion recently had its own logo change. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Google recently restructured to become just one division in a new conglomerate with a different name. This news may have confused some stakeholders (which, in the case of Google, is a significant chunk of humanity). Here was a moment to definitively stake out a new identity for a (slightly) changed company. What’s interesting is that both Yahoo’s and Google’s logo changes coincided with questions about their identities. But while Yahoo’s clearly came from a feeling of insecurity over its size and breadth, Google’s came from a feeling of strength in splitting up a sprawling company. Both companies clearly felt that the most effective message to communicate their new visions were new logos.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE.

Why build a monolith? (Cornelisen Ch. 3 & 4)

It’s easy to see why a company like Starbucks is constantly trying to engage stakeholders in surprising and sometimes disastrous ways. It is, by nature, heavily customer-facing, and has an aggressively open image. While flamboyant social-media-conscious companies are the ones likely to get the biggest stories, I’m intrigued by how Chapter 4 brought the issues of large conglomerates to light.

In recent years, I’ve noticed just the transition to monolithic branding of Unilever that Cornelissen mentions (72). I was vaguely aware of the company as a huge conglomerate responsible for hundreds of brands, but was surprised when I started seeing its quirky logo stamped on its products. It seems like the company has become more forthright in linking its brands together. What would cause a company to try to link shampoo and mayonnaise?

Let’s look at which stakeholders are involved. The definitive stakeholders—shareholders—are already well aware of the brands their sprawling multinational oversees. Well, let’s assume they are. Such moves are likely aimed at stakeholders both primary (such as customers), and secondary (the general public). Using the power-interest matrix (50), I would put customers in quadrant C; they need to be kept satisfied, but aren’t particularly interested. Does the average ice-cream eater care that their odor was crafted by the same company? Probably not.

Other members of the public could be in quadrants A or B, needing to be kept informed, at most. But I think moves toward monolithic branding are both reactive and proactive. I see them as reactive is the sense that the average consumer is more aware of who makes their products these days. Negative publicity typically centers on the parent companies that operate brands, as opposed to the brands themselves. If a consumer learns that Unilever is the maker of Dove through a negative news story, it should concern the parent company. Their reactions are usually examples of what Cornelissen calls stakeholder management; short-term tactics beholden to events (55).

Engagement—proactive moves—can come about as a result of trying to stay ahead of future negative events. Unilever’s social media presence is largely of the feel-good type.

New report shows #sustainable companies outperform their peers in financial performance http://t.co/f8joinI0rq #NCE2015

— Unilever (@Unilever) July 7, 2015

I don’t think the parent company’s shareholders would have felt any need to present themselves so publicly if it weren’t for the increased visibility that the 21^st century puts on corporate practices. I think they would’ve happily continued largely in the shadows, as far as the usual consumer (and thus, most stakeholders) are concerned. Dove would be Dove, Hellmann’s would be Hellmann’s, and Unilever would be a funny word only business insiders knew the context of.

The inherent difficulty in uniting the disparate brands that Unilever oversees is a testament to how monumental a task it would be for key stakeholders to undertake. Cornelissen’s arguments for why a company moves toward monolithic branding are less cynical than what I’ve discussed, focused on potential “market values” and advertisement savings (74), but I think the points I’ve raised need to be considered. Not all parent companies can lean on famous leaders or unique outlets to communicate their brands.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE.

Argenti & Cornelissen Ch. 1 & 2

Entering this class, I thought a fair definition of corporate communication might be all communication done by a corporation. Right? But maybe that’s too broad. After both our readings, I’m concerned it’s not broad enough.

Couldn’t theories of corporate communication apply to any large organization? Cornelissen works around this a bit by giving a (secondary) definition of corporate rooted in the Latin corpus for any “body.” Argenti’s use of the term organizational communication seems to have nothing to do with whether the body is involved in profit-making or not. He calls it a discipline “much more closely allied with management or organizational behavior rather than communication” (p. 82).

I think this is comparable to Cornelissen’s definition of corporate communication as a “framework for the effective coordination of all internal and external communication” (p. 5). So, it’s not even the communication itself. It’s the coordination of that communication. Hell, not even that; just the framework for the coordination!

While I appreciate the distinctions both authors are making about academic disciplines, the meat, for me, is in separating the types of corporate communication itself. I’m especially interested in how different types of companies communicate differently. I think the models that Cornelissen details in Chapter 2 depend on how much a company markets to end-users, instead of business-to-business dealing. How publicly visible a company is impacts how much (and how well) it communicates. As Argenti notes, “industries that have not been under attack spend as little as possible—until a crisis develops” (p. 89).

Reading both authors, I kept thinking about what may be the go-to public relations case study of the century so far, the 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil spill—or perhaps it’s better known as the BP oil spill? That’s definitely a part of why it’s so interesting. BP’s response to the disaster was a classic case of what both authors define as the older-style tactical, reactive communication. A case study of BP’s preparation and response notes the importance of “the need for strong stakeholders’ relationship before, during and after the crisis.”

In the years since the disaster, BP has run a PR blitz of TV ads and a website touting its commitment to restoring the Gulf of Mexico. Two questions.

First, does it matter? As Argenti asks, “Does Mobil's support of Masterpiece Theater or Texaco's support of opera affect consumers at all?” (p. 95) Is it possible all of BP’s post-spill efforts don’t amount to a hill of (oil-soaked) beans in the public eye?

Second, would it have made a difference if BP had tried to promote a more positive image before the spill? Again, Argenti, discussing a different oil company and spill: “Oil companies…are not easy for people to either understand or like. Thus many have since written that any of the good works that Exxon may have done after the accident was unsuccessful because the company lacked image credibility among many different constituencies” (p. 90).

Argenti was writing in 1996, in the infancy of the internet, and long before social media. But I think even if he were writing with knowledge of the communication tools available to companies today, he would be as ambivalent about the prospects of certain companies to get ahead of their image. Is a company’s official Twitter ever going to be as effective as its parody?

Argenti, P. A. (1996, August). Corporate Communication as a Discipline : Toward a Definition. Management Communication Quarterly, X(1), 73-97.

Cornelissen, J. (2014). Corporate Communication: A Guide to Theory & Practice (4th ed.). London: SAGE.

Introductory video

ENGL 8800 Intro from Neil Stein on Vimeo.