An open letter to a pushy PR person

How was it for you? And how long before we see a return?

This is by way of being an open letter to the PR person who recently rang me enquiring (a) “Did you enjoy your recent press trip to (let’s say) Ulan Bator?” And (b) “When are you going to use it?” By which the lady meant “On what date will your article on the delights of Ulan Bator and, more specifically, my client’s Chateau Ulan Bator wines be published?”

While I’ve been a journalist long enough to realise there’s no such thing as a free lunch/dinner/trip to the seaside/bottle of wine/posh aftershave (fill in the words that apply) I have to say I was gob-smacked, yes gob-smacked by the sheer blatant crudity of the approach.

Let me make my position clear. I go on press trips because (i) I want, indeed need to learn something about the wine or wine region that’s the subject of the trip (ii) because, unlike the first generation of wine writers I don’t have a rich daddy or a private income, so there’s a limit to what I can learn by sitting on my arse in Dublin 4 reading books and (iii) frequently, it’s fun.

On my return, if the trip has been worthwhile, well-organised (and, to be fair this one was extremely well organised) and only if  I like and respect the product I’ll do my damndest to give it some coverage. Companies know this and that is why, after 30 years writing about food and drink, I still get my fair share of invitations. In fact, even if the itinerary proves as reliable as a Gulliver voyage, even though they work us like seaside donkeys for the duration of the trip, I’ll still try and give the product coverage if its quality impresses.

While I’m on a rant I’d like to point out to the sometimes blinkered PR executives and the companies they represent that, over-and-above securing column inches, press trips fulfil a valuable role in educating the media and creating what I call ‘a climate of goodwill’ between client and journalist. It works like this:– down the line, if I need, say, a quote for an article I’m writing I’ll give first call to the guys who gave me that informative, enjoyable trip. Not necessarily because I like them the best but because I know they’ll deliver.

How do I know this? Because in my time I’ve worked on the other side of the equation, as a PR consultant. So I know there are some journalists who would go to the opening of a passed-its-sell-by-date bag of crisps. And some who would take every crumb of hospitality you could throw at them and never write a word about it. But the vast majority are professionals who, while they might fall short of the gushing endorsement you’re hoping for, will treat you fairly without necessity for the crude bludgeoning I’ve instanced above.