End of Semester Reflection

The course title “Professional and Technical Writing” caught my eye. I had a vague notion that professional writing meant writing for the “workplace” as opposed to academia, and I had no idea what technical writing meant. I thought it might mean writing instruction manuals for microwaves and televisions. I needed to complete another writing seminar for my graduation requirements and was interested in taking my first online class, so I enrolled. I am glad I did, but it has been a difficult course.

Cornelissen’s text was good start to the course. It was accessible for me as professional communication novice, but, accessibility aside, I was bothered by it. I do not like the practices of American corporations, and this text confirmed it. Before I read it, I assumed my distaste came from political and economic biases and a limited knowledge of how corporations function.

When the reading shifted to the theoretical discussion of professionalization, I was turned off at first. I did not make the connection between the readings and what I thought technical writing was and what this course would be. I wondered why we were reading past justifications of something that has already happened, the professionalization of technical communication. Reading Savage’s and Light’s articles helped create a significant shift in my thinking. To formulate any cogent thoughts on the readings, I had to make comparisons to my own work and profession to understand the stakes of professionalization, and those articles helped me do that.

Throughout the semester, I felt a lag between reading an article and understanding it. Generally, as I would read an article, I would have flashbacks of insight into the previous week’s reading. The Kline and Barker article had this same effect but for the entire semester. Their article compelled me to explore the “personas” in the TCBOK project, and I finally arrived at clarity about what technical writing is and the varied contexts in which it is practiced. In the end, even though it took the entire semester for me to feel like I was on solid ground with the material, the readings were well sequenced and helped me understand the subject matter.

Karsh and Alfred are both references I consider valuable and will occupy space on my book shelf for years to come.

My production in this course has been an up and down experience. I have enjoyed (after the fact, of course) being taken out of my comfort zone. I had never created my own blog, and I loved that experience. Posting a video of myself was not an assignment I relished but one that I am now thankful for because I appreciated watching everyone else’s.

I often struggled to formulate decent blog posts. I just did not know where or how to be appropriately critical with the subject matter, so I relied on the blogs of my classmates and Dr. Bridgeford for guidance. I think this dynamic is what I appreciated most about the online class experience. A traditional class facilitates the transfer of peer-to-peer knowledge and insight naturally, for lack of a better word. In the online format, I had to self-assess my own struggles and actively seek out the examples set by my classmates and professor. This was a good lesson for me to learn, and I am thankful for the particular cohort with whom I took this course.

I loved the job ad analysis assignment even though I did not execute it very well. It was a great challenge for me, and I am stillnot happy with my revision. My difficulty with this project demonstrates the one thing I would have liked more of in this course. More reading and instruction about rhetorical analysis of texts like job ads, especially from the perspective of document layout and design, would have helped me tremendously.

On the whole, working through this course has given me exactly what I wanted from it. I have new experience as a student in online only class. I have a solid understanding of what technical writing is and the contexts in which it is practiced. And, this course’s examination of professionalization allowed me to reflect in new ways about my own work and profession.  

Response to Kline and Barker

Kline and Barker’s examination of communities of practice within technical communication provides a nice complement to Carliner’s discussion from last week. Their ethnographic analysis of the Society for Technical Communication’s (STC) Technical Communication Body of Knowledge project added a more relatable human element to Carliner’s more abstract, theoretical discussion of divisions within the profession of technical communication. Also, Wenger’s model for establishing a community of practice was a useful framework for analyzing those divisions.

In discussing the success of one aspect (the personas), the flagging commitment to another (content population), or a philosophical standoff (intellectual property concerns), I was struck by the important role that identity, of both users and contributors, played in these scenarios.

In the case of persona development, “each TCBOK participant could imagine [himself or herself] as a user of the knowledge portal.” This certainly contributed to the success of that initiative, and leads to a sense of communal identity. Contributors were eager to participate because of this shared professional identity.

When that communal identity broke down, the tasks were less successful. When engagement diminished during the content population project, one participant noticed that there was “less to share, less glamor, less kudos….sometimes not fun.” When participants were at an impasse over a paywall for the TCBOK, the line of division matched the line between academics and practitioners. Both of these instances illustrate a breakdown of any sense of shared identity within the profession. In the first example, an assumption was made that content population was someone else’s job, and the work diminished. In the second, academics and practitioners were at odds over ideology.

Even though Kline and Barker mention that Wenger shifted his research focus “to explain how people learn in organizations and how community and identity affect the transfer of knowledge during collaboration,” I think much more can be said about the role individual professional identity played in the three collaborative scenarios discussed.

The communities of practice framework was a helpful tool to explain the scenarios, but it does not describe the sufficiently describe the why as much as the how. I do not see how Kline and Barker’s proposed model for collaboration can work without solving how differences in professional identity inform one’s approach to work. The authors conclude that their model of collaboration “is essential for a negotiated meaning of professionalism because professionalism rests on accepting and then transcending academic or practitioner identity.” I would argue that practitioner vs. academic identity should not be transcended after the fact but mediated and negotiated before collaborating.  

Response to Carliner

I appreciate that Carliner has reframed the professionalization discussion. Instead of discussing the “external struggles” involved in professionalizing the field, he examines the internal struggle and divisions that “do not fall along the well-documented fault lines of academe-industry relations.” Carliner’s central claim, that there is not a unified view of professionalization for the field, and the spectrum of viewpoints he posits has helped me widen my view of the professionalization process.

Carliner’s spectrum of views (formal professionalism, quasiprofessionalism, and contraprofessionalization) are presented to define the tensions within the industry but they are also informative of the “external struggles” he mentions as well. If there is no consensus within a field about the professionalization process, it will necessarily create external struggles because employers are not bound to any standards of professionalization.

I agree with Carliner that the contraprofessionalist stance is resisting and undermining professionalization because practitioners at that end of the spectrum will take any jobs or work available according to the whims of the marketplace. If that practice is allowed to perpetuate itself, the work of standardizing training and certification and organizing an agreed-upon body of knowledge becomes impossible. This undermines the branding of the profession as well, as Carliner points out.

Perhaps I have unwittingly internalized the prevalent free-market philosophies of our times because I cannot object to the contraprofessionalist acting in a self-interested manner. After extensive reading about the professionalization process, I value the effort and think it is important for technical communication (and other fields), but, within our current economic structure, I do not see how can the formal professionalist end of the spectrum can truly control the movement.

Thoughts on Coppola, Hallier & Malone

I came to this course with no background knowledge of technical writing. As a result, it has taken me some time to get acclimated to what it is and what is/has been at stake in the professionalization of the industry.

When I read Light’s “Technical Writing and Professional Status,” my understanding of the industry, the importance of professionalization, and the thinking behind the design and sequence of this course all coalesced.  Hallier and Malone’s discussion of the article demonstrates why this might have happened. That article is indeed seminal as it is still being discussed and put forth as a watershed moment in the progression of technical writing as a professional industry. For me, though, the article illuminated so much about the field not because of its importance in a lineage of scholarship but more so because it is just an excellent piece of writing.

Coppola’s discussion how technical writing fits in the contemporary market economy contains a tension I cannot reconcile. I enjoyed her opening statement in part two that we live in an age of irony. The irony here being that just as technical writing is emerging as a profession, professions are being devalued. Part of this devaluation of professions is the demand that workers be mobile and flexible. According to Coppola, technical writers are in a position to thrive because the relatively nascent profession demands flexibility and broad knowledge and skills of its practitioners. I do not understand this. She claims that technical writers have “the integrated skill sets…to navigate the complexities of rapidly shifting work structures.” That seems more like the regression professionalization rather than the affirmation of it and that technical writing will be marginalized and devalued as it has sometimes been in the past. 

Response to Light and Malone

Light’s examination of status seeking helped illuminate the stakes involved in the drive for professionalism discussed in articles by Savage and Faber. I have no familiarity with the work The Status Seekers mentioned by Light, but the phrase “status seeking” has always held negative connotations in my mind. Light’s claim that “The existence, intensity, and importance of the psychological and emotion-laden urge for social status cannot be brushed under the rug” seems to hold to this negative connotation at first glance. However, the author’s subsequent discussion and claim that it is a serious effort which involves “professional esprit” and personal satisfaction. I am in agreement that these things do matter and status in the eyes of general society can contribute to them. The combination of esprit, satisfaction, and status lead – I would claim – to the elevation of the quality of work one does. This is not a connection I was making when reading previous articles. The drive for and achievement of professionalization of a field can improve the quality of work done and improve the happiness and satisfaction of its practitioners.

Malone’s examination of the “first wave” of professionalization of Technical Writing also helped me better understand the article by Savage. By attaching a specific “narrative” of actual working professionals to Technical Writing’s development of professional organizations, ethical standards, certification, and accreditation of academic programs, I could again better understand the stakes of the movement.

The articles by Light, Malone, and Faber all demonstrate to me the enormity of the task of professionalization in general. This task for Technical Writing seems even more enormous when considering the project of collecting a body of knowledge for the field as discussed by Malone (and Dr. Bridgeford in a recent post).

These issues of professionalization are relevant to the educational context in which I am currently working. I began working in Adult Basic Education (ABE) because I was attracted to serving a more diverse and underserved population than I was in teaching high school. In my time working in ABE, my past teaching experience has been valuable, but it has not been sufficient on its own. ABE is a field with its own theoretical foundations, and I have had to do a lot of research to refine my practices for the student population that I now serve. It is a still burgeoning profession with organizations like COABE leading the growth of the profession in some of the same ways Technical Writing grew as outlined by Malone.

Job Ad Analysis

This memo presents an analysis of five job advertisements in the professional/technical communication field. The goal of this analysis is to provide an overview of how information is presented in the following categories: employer information, job title, job duties, qualifications, and skills. This overview will provide you with ideas to consider as you craft your resume and cover letter for a position within the field of professional/technical communication.

Savage: The Process and Prospects for Professionalizing Technical Communication

Savage’s discussion of the history and perception of professions in the US compels me to consider my own work within the professional field of teaching. I took a “non-traditional” and thus non-professional path to teaching. When I first stepped into a classroom as a substitute teacher in a Chicago charter school, I had had no training whatsoever. My Bachelor’s Degree was the only prerequisite at this particular school. I was hired for my first full time teaching job as a Latin instructor because I had a BA in Latin and minimal experience as a substitute teacher; the private school at which I worked was not required to hired fully licensed and certified teachers. Somehow, I was able to circumvent all training and certification in the field, but I still consider myself a professional teacher.

My personal experience is somewhat akin to Savage’s observation that “job advertisements for technical writers persist in representing job qualifications in terms that leave the field open to candidates other than those with formal education in technical communication” (p. 144).  Savages cites hiring managers who are over their skies when it comes to hiring for technical writing, and they ironically cannot properly execute a job description for a technical writing position. Both of these strike me as broad strokes observations and quite subjective.

Savage’s observation that many technical writers are hired in-house based on “subject matter knowledge” and a general facility with the written word also strikes me as a broad speculation, but it is logical. This would be a safe, cost-effective practice for an organization. This makes me wonder if corporations who need to employ technical writers are themselves not interested in the continuing professionalization of technical writing. Savage does mention that the road to professionalization is filled with obstacles, and I think this may be one.

I absolutely agree with Savage’s claim that one major difficulty in the professionalization of technical communication is the “difficulty of defining the expertise of technical communicators in order to set the field apart” (p. 159), and I would consider this the biggest roadblock. If employers had a better grasp of what well trained technical communicators can do, the resulting hiring practices would help foster a stronger professional identity which would, in turn, accelerate the breaking through of other roadblocks mentioned by Savage.  

Given what I now know about technical communication, I do think that full "professionalization" (whether as defined by Faber or Savage) is important because it can protect and preserve the security of its practitioners.  

Professional Identities by Brenton Faber...and a personal note

This article provides an excellent orientation to the finer distinctions of professional writing and communication. Also, after slogging through Cornelissen’s panglossian take on the corporate world, I appreciate Faber’s head on confrontation of ethics.

Faber takes great care to define professionalism, which may be tiresome for some readers, but, for me, it was quite helpful. Professional(ism) is term that is thrown around loosely, and Faber’s literature review concerning the development of a strict, scholarly definition serves his purpose well. Subjectively speaking, I favor Friedson’s treatment of professions as “characterized by two general features: a) the acquisition and schooled application of an esoteric and complex body of knowledge and skill, and b) orientation toward serving the public.” I appreciate any nod to public service when considering professional occupations like medicine, law, or even teaching. While these are revered and sometimes well paid fields, they are often not spoken of as services, especially law.

Faber mentions ethics as a “self-conscious discourse about values, conduct, and what is perceived to be proper action.” This idea holds professional to a high standard of responsibility given the relatively high “economic and social status within their local and national cultures” professionals enjoy. Highlighting this as an essential characteristic of professionalism is something I appreciate.

These factors align well with his argument that emerging professionals must be aware of the social and professional contexts in which they will work and the people and communities they will serve. The elite status afforded many professionals does indeed bind them to a responsibility to counter the forces of territorial elitism, and Faber’s discussion of it provides a nice counter balance to Cornelissen.

Personal note....I am so excited that I have to overshare....

My wife, Annie, and I welcomed our second child this week. Calvin Lonergan Grace Mortensen was born Wednesday morning at 1:27 AM. We are thrilled and exhausted.

Industry Report: Composition Studies

Abstract: For my industry report, I chose to examine Composition Studies. Composition Studies involves the research, study and teaching of writing. Professional sin the field generally hold an MA or PhD in English, Rhetoric, or a related field. Professionals also must have a good command of professional and technical writing to thrive in the industry. This report also includes a profile of a professional working in the industry.

Cornelissen Chapter 14: Web 2.0

…..Web 2.0: for when you have to communicate something so horrifically racist and ignorant, and you have to do it now…..then double down on it later.

Cornelissen’s outline of the progression of web technologies and how communicative practices have changed on various web platforms is a vanilla rehashing of the popular narrative.

While I am comfortable with the terms Web 1.0 and Web 2.0 in certain contexts, Cornelissen again paints with too broad of a brush when defining these terms. I think Cornelissen’s decision to define Web 1.0 and Web 2.0 in the manner he does is because the definitions are accurate for organizations and corporations, which makes sense. For individuals, these definitions are lacking. From its nascence, the Web has been a digital space “where content and applications are continuously generated and modified,” but, in its early days, this continuous collaboration was not performed by “all users.” As early as the 1980’s, only small groups of people were networking through platforms like LISTSERV and bulletin board services. Networking has always been present on the web. Also, while there has indeed been an explosion of networking and collaboration on the web, it is absolutely wrong to assert that “all users” are taking advantage of this. There are still users who are in Web 1.0 mode. There are a host of social factors which determine how individuals approach and use the features of the internet. To assert that “all users” are using it any fashion is far too broad.

The Nestle case study illustrates what I find interesting about this shift in web use: how horribly mismanaged corporate social marketing is. Nestle’s Facebook interactions are similar to the misstep many other organizations and corporations make. When engaging in social marketing, it is much more difficult to manage the message. 

Cornelissen Chapters 12 and 13

Inspired by the naming conventions of “the management scholar Clempitt,” it is time for my weekly type and gripe. Please feel free to analyze and criticize as you see fit. 

Chapter 12

The strength of the models presented in Chapter 12 is that the step of communicating the message of organizational change is in the middle of the model. Before any communication regarding change is rolled out, it is important for leaders to set a context. Whether termed as developing a sense of urgency or as underscoring organizational needs, if employees and other stakeholders are not oriented to the changes by the presentation of the context from which the changes are coming, disaster ensues.  

Working in education, I have witnessed how difficult it is to communicate organizational change and how easy it is to mismanage it. If only my principals and deans of jobs past had employed any of the communicative models presented by Cornelissen in Chapter 12. The difficulty in education might be because of the diverse interests of a wide range of stakeholder groups, but, sometimes, it is made difficult by poor strategy.

When I worked at a local high school a few years back, the principal called an all-faculty meeting to announce the school’s plan to implement a one-to-one technology program in which every student would be required to own and use an iPad. The backlash from faculty was swift and intense, but it was not unified. Those members of the faculty who would be excited about such an initiative were upset that they had no say in how this would happen and which devices would be used as a part of the program. Others, whom I might call “old-school” in their pedagogical approach, were upset because they did not feel like they could adapt their styles to suit the iPad revolution. Others just hated Apple and all iProducts. The resulting backlash led to a one year delay in the roll out of the one-to-one program, but the iPad remained as the mandated device.

Had the school’s leadership better created a sense of urgency to update and improve instruction through implementing new technology, it is likely that the roll out would have happened one year sooner.

Chapter 13

I am pleased that Cornelissen devotes an entire chapter to corporate social responsibility and community relations. I am not surprised that how he frames the discussion is a disappointment, and I am left feeling the same way I did after reading his discussion of issue and crisis management. That is, CSR and community relations are presented as marketing and image management rather than as the sound practices of a responsible organization.

This chapter strengthens the argument (one advanced by Dr. Bridgeford and others) that Cornelissen presents a biased, free-market/laissez-faire perspective cloaked in the “neutral” tone of scholarly distance. Even when he writes of a "moral contract" (p. 243), "economic development" is given primacy over improving the lives of employees and the community at large. 

From my perspective, CSR and corporations driven solely (Britich Airways, Kraftby desire for profit are incompatible. If Cornelissen were not writing from such a biased perspective, he would address this idea, and perhaps, mention the success of public-private partnerships like the Tennessee Valley Authority (a New Deal initiative which still operates today!) that made CSR its guiding principle by taking a holistic, broad view of the consequences of its actions in carrying out its corporate mission. 

Cornelissen Chapters 10 & 11

I read and digested chapters 10 and 11, but I am following my anger with this post. I know I am not directly discussing the models and case studies outlined by Cornelissen, but I need to vent. When I read the chapters, my continual thoughts were that this is a guidebook for the powerful to obfuscate, evade, and even lie to the less powerful.  

I am a fan of team sports: baseball, basketball, football, soccer, hockey. At the professional level these sports generate tremendous amounts of attention and with that attention comes tremendous revenue. Because of all that attention and revenue, along with other cultural factors, issue and crisis management are especially compelling to me through the lens of major professional sports.  Essentially, most organizations in the world of sports favor a tone-deaf approach to both issues and crises to the detriment of society. (Yes, I see the hypocrisy of my anger and concern because I keep watching and supporting these sports.)

For example, the professional football team in Washington D.C. has a nickname that is a racial slur. Many media outlets have already taken to only referring to the team as “Washington,” and a federal court has struck down the team’s trademark registration rights because of the offensive nickname. The owner, Daniel Snyder, does nothing but double down on his aggressive stance that the name is not offensive and it will not change as long as he is the team’s owner.

This example is interesting because Snyder views this as an issue as defined by Cornelissen. It is simply something that is negatively affecting the reputation of the organization (p. 181). To outside activists and many football fans, this issue is a crisis. The name needs to change immediately.

The sheer power of certain organizations affords them opportunities to keep the perception of issues from becoming crises by force. Because of this, I question how Cornelissen decides to differentiate the two terms.

Another example of the fuzzy dividing line between issue and crisis and how it is exploited by powerful organizations also comes from the sordid world of professional sports. Chicago Blackhawks star Patrick Kane was recently under investigation for rape in Buffalo, NY. In this example, we have a crisis being treated as an issue again, but the crisis is far larger than and more important than the reputation of a hockey team.

Our country continually refuses to confront how prevalent sexual assault is, how few victims actually report the crimes, and how victims are shamed and degraded. The Patrick Kane case reinforces these ideas. The Chicago Blackhawks recently gave him a platform to claim his innocence and call the victim a liar when he spoke at a press conference to open the team’s training camp last week. This action of crisis management enables the type of people who make death threats at journalists covering the story, which is exactly what Julie DiCaro experienced.

Am I overreacting and again allowing my politics and proclivities to guide my reading and resulting criticism of the chapters? The case studies in these two chapters are not as ugly as my examples, but they do nothing to move me from my original assertion that these chapters are a handbook for denial and cover-up. 

Cornelissen Chapters 8 & 9

When discussing news routines and how they can reflect organizational ideology, Cornelissen refers to a study by the BBC trust that criticized the BBC business editors’ “negative and narrow views on business” (p. 147). I laughed when I read this; no wonder I like to listen to the BBC World Service so much. Of course, I have always known that I like the BBC and NPR because my views align with the emergent ideologies of their news routines.

While I found his framework for news routines a helpful description of media practices, his discussion of agenda-setting left me asking a few questions. I do understand he is attempting to neutrally present the critical theory of other scholars, but I also think he can do that while discussing where it might be limited. I struggle to imagine a critical reader who encounters the statement, “The news media thus ‘set’ the public agenda” (p. 148).  This statement alone at face value is contradictory to the stakeholder theory which he earlier claimed was now widely accepted and practiced. Yes, the media has a role in setting the public agenda, but media outlets are for profit institutions which must also be responsive to the preexisting interests of their audiences.  Also, many media outlets are under the umbrella of publicly traded companies, so shareholder agenda must also be considered. Again, I find myself asking Cornelissen for more counter-examples of the models and theory he presents.

The notion of agenda setting, for me, relates to Cornelissen’s discussion of internal employee communications. Whether upward or downward communication, issues can easily become salient within organizations by volume and will. That is, employees can be heard even in organizations where upward communication is not the norm if there is enough volume. The IBM case study (p. 174-177) posits that open (upward and downward) lines of communication centered on corporate values were created in response to low employee morale: new employees had no idea of a corporate value system and long term employees were disillusioned as a result of cuts in benefits and increases in layoffs.

The result of this initiative was an articulation of core values, but I am left wondering about the initiative’s effect on employee satisfaction and productivity. There is a mention of aligning performance management and compensation with these newly articulated values, but there is no further mention of the “disenfranchised” long term employees.

The communities of practice idea also strikes me as marketing efficiency to shareholders rather than an effort to improve employee direction and morale.

Was this an initiative generated from employee dissatisfaction and listlessness that only led to reframed corporate messaging? I am unsure of how to interpret this case study.

Chapter 7: The Truth Squad

I am beginning to see a pattern in my reactions to Cornelissen, and my reaction to Chapter 7 certainly aligns with that pattern.

I find tremendous value in the models he creates to simplify larger concepts with which I have limited experience; in this chapter, his five-part model (Figure 7.1 on p. 129) for research and evaluation and his related case study of FedEx (p. 131-132) is very helpful for me. Apart from my work for this course, I spend no time thinking about the inner workings of corporations, but I do think about and examine how effective advertising campaigns are or how well corporations brand themselves. Essentially, in my day-to-day life, I only think about the results of corporate communication. This model helps conceptualize the execution of a communication campaign.

Conversely, in each chapter, I am encountering assertions that are not treated as critically as I would like them to be; Cornelissen’s glossing over of the FedEx Truth Squad is an excellent example from Chapter 7. As Cornelissen writes, “Margaritis and his team identified an inner circle of media contacts and conducted personal briefings with these journalists to forge and strengthen relationships with them and to reinforce messaging and reduce any gaps in understanding” (p. 132). Cornelissen frames this as an insightful practice which helped FedEx ensure that its messaging is not misconstrued, without even the briefest mention of the ethical problems practices like this can create. It is possible these practices occur with no quid pro quo understanding between the journalists and the corporation, but I am skeptical.

The FedEx case study provides me with an example of how research is an ongoing, recursive process for corporations and how Cornelissen’s model might ideally function. However, I do wish Cornelissen provided us with more “negative” case studies that demonstrate how some of his models may break down or the problems and circumstances that can create such a breakdown.

Response to Cornelissen, Chapters 5 and 6

I have previously tried to write posts as comprehensive reactions to the chapters. For this post, I will be more focused because Cornelissen touches on some aspects of corporate communication in which I actually have a preexisting interest: corporate taglines and slogans.

Before that discussion, though, I do need to mention how helpful I found section 5.3 on Strategic Messaging. I am growing to appreciate Cornelissen’s use of models and diagrams for making fine distinctions within a broad topic. His breakdown of strategic message styles is a useful model for evaluating corporate communications, but, as I read through the different styles, I was able to draw connections to my own work in teaching the rudiments of rhetoric and argumentative writing to my adult learners. I know that this is a section that I will revisit to inform my own work outside of a corporate environment.

My wife works in advertising, so we have many dinner table conversations about writing choices in advertisements.  Generally, she cites the steps outlined in section 6.2 as essential to the process of creating an excellent tagline or slogan (or even a complete campaign). She emphasizes the importance of step 1, strategic intent. In the parlance of her industry, she refers to this intent as an “insight,” a concept or idea that drives the communicative choices of the agency or corporation.

To the detriment of my own marriage, I do not accept this.

I am certain (even though I have never worked in a corporate environment, an advertising agency, or for any sort of communications firm) that effective slogans and taglines are born of the proper execution of any of the three tactics discussed by Cornelissen on p. 117: wordplay, figurative language, and iconic words. From my admittedly limited perspective, shaping corporate communication/advertising based on market research and insights is akin to the same impulse that leads to the creation of bad art: trying to please the audience rather than communicating a sincere message.

Also, even as a grammar nerd and language instructor, I love witnessing departures from standard grammar and usage that effectively communicate the intended message. My favorite example of this tension between adhering to the rules of edited English and communicating a message is this email exchange published by Harper's in 2003.  

Response to Cornelissen, Chapters 3 and 4

Stakeholders

I am employed in public education, and I live in fear of neoliberal policies and “market-driven” decision-making taking over that realm. Thus, when that term is employed, I am usually skeptical and assume it to be a euphemism for “shareholder.” Cornelissen’s third chapter did make me ease back on my disdain for the word. This is due to his broad definitions for the term and the outlines of different models of stakeholder engagement. The stakeholder salience model and the power-interest matrix present logical frameworks for how corporate entities categorize stakeholders and determine when they must be engaged with. The three strategies of engagement mentioned (informational, persuasive, dialogue) also provide a useful guide for understanding how those entities choose to communicate with stakeholders.

I do take issue (perhaps due to my bias mentioned above) with how Cornelissen has framed this discussion. He carefully distinguishes the old neo-classical model of stakeholder engagement, which gives primacy to profits and shareholders, with the newer socio-economic model of engagement, which takes into account the different contexts in which corporations must engage different stakeholders. Prior to making that distinction, Cornelissen claims that the “widespread adoption of the stakeholder perspective in business marks a move away from” the neo-classical to the socio-economic. I am not sure this is the case. While I do believe the stakeholder model and socio-economic theory have changed how corporations communicate, I would assert that primacy is still given to shareholders; that is, the shareholders are engaged and the remaining stakeholders are managed.

Identity and Branding

In a past life, when I was working in the grocery industry, I knew a Brownberry Bread vendor who disparaged one of his competitors, owned by the Sara Lee Corporation, by saying it was good bread, “if you want your bread made by razor blade manufacturers.” This was before Sara Lee sold off all of its non-food inventory to other corporations, among those other corporations was Unilever. Cornelissen’s discussion of Unilever’s transition from branded corporate identity to monolithic highlights both why the monolithic strategy “creates” value for corporations and why consumers might be skeptical of the strategy. It makes sense that this is a profitable strategy because the corporations using it (Disney, Apple, Google, GE) are already exceedingly powerful and the monolithic strategy serves to consolidate that power within one overarching brand that is attractive to shareholders and prospective shareholders. The downside to this strategy is the negative perception that it can create with consumers. As a consumer, I am put off by monolithic branding because I do not want any corporations to become too powerful, but, call me a hipster or elitist if you like, I like supporting boutique brands and unique products. I do not think I am alone in either of those perspectives.

In looking at these aspects, stakeholder management and branding, through the lens of corporate communication, I am led back to concepts from Chapters 1 and 2. In the same way that marketing and public relations have overlapped and become extensions of each other, so too have stakeholder engagement and branding. Strategic engagement of stakeholders is identity building regardless of the models any corporation is working within. 

Response to Argenti and Cornelissen

To critically engage with the readings this week (and I presume for the rest of the semester), I must make a concentrated effort to confront and/or set aside some of my assumptions about corporations and how they communicate. I have a reflex of distrust when encountering corporate messaging. It is not that I do not appreciate corporations (I mean, I really like buying goods and services.), but I cynically view every move corporations make as a service to their bottom line and nothing else. Holding onto this cynicism will not allow me to critically approach the readings in a fruitful way, and I assume that my bias will bubble up in my discussions. I mention this not to excuse myself, but to help hold myself accountable.

Also, I am working to develop my background knowledge of business, marketing, corporate communications as academic disciplines. As a result, I feel like my initial reactions to these readings are superficial at best. My perspective of business is firmly consumer-centric at this point. Throughout this semester, I will work to broaden my perspective.

As I began reading Argenti’s argument for corporate communications as its own discipline, I immediately began drawing parallels to sub-disciplines within my own academic background (humanities, language, literature), so I was delighted to read Argenti’s mention of a similar parallel drawn by Daniel (p. 87-88). In the same way that English as a discipline had to prove its worth in academia so must other nascent disciplines, and, seemingly, these nascent disciplines are met with skepticism from practitioners in long established disciplines. Generally, I am in favor of proposals such as Argenti’s because examining subjects from multiple perspectives can enrich any field.

So, I am on board with his argument for corporate communications as a separate area of research and study, but I do not fully understand what his conception of corporate communications is. Is he calling for hierarchy of communications disciplines with corporate communications as the all-encompassing top rung?

I also question some of his assumptions about a lack of research in certain areas. Regarding image and identity specifically, Argenti claims that they have “never been studied as rigorously as [they] should” (p. 92). This strikes me as a broad claim that would be difficult to defend in a more developed discussion. Of course, I must take into account that this article was published nearly 20 years ago.

Argenti’s call must have been heeded as evidenced by the existence of Cornelissen’s text. Again, I must admit that I am working through a learning curve to develop stronger background knowledge. Thus, while I found it a slog to read through discussions of different corporate organizational structures, the first chapter of Cornelissen’s text is already helping with my background knowledge deficit.

Cornelissen’s framework of corporate communications growing from the gradual integration of marketing and public relations seems logical. This may be because, as a business outsider, I have always viewed marketing and PR as being parallel and as having the same end-goal: higher revenue and a consistently positive public perception. 

Introduction