Did you watch the Master’s golf on Sunday?
In part I ask because I realize my audience is pretty diverse. As a strategic communications leader I do work with CEOs of fortune 500 companies. But I also work with plenty of people helping good causes communicate. Let’s say one group tends to skew a certain direction, when it comes to watching golf, and the other, the other. That’s the main problem with America, of course. But I don’t want to get us off the track.
The point is: Shut the f__k up, sometimes. It can be a remarkably powerful thing to do.
I say so because one of the best parts of watching Northern Irishman Rory McIlroy win on Sunday was the silence. CBS’s lead producer, Sellers Shy, explained it to the Athletic:
“Do I have to tell everyone that is on all-key (the mechanism to talk to the broadcasters) to be silent? I don’t. Everyone knows this is what you should do. We knew that the pictures would be everything that the fans needed. It was genuine, authentic. You saw the tears. You saw the relief. You understood the validation. There’s nothing that Jim or Trevor or Dottie (Pepper) or anyone else could have said in that moment to make it any more powerful than that walk that he gave.”
After an eternity of quiet from the commentators, Rory himself delivered the best line to his friends: “I’ve got to go and get a green jacket.”
Silence is great when it’s strategic like that.
Silence can also be terrible when it isn’t. I’m so frustrated with the snail’s pace of major American foundations lately. In the Chronicle of Philanthropy — a promotional publication they all fund — they got a round of applause for “meeting the moment” this month, pledging to give more money to shore up nonprofits defunded by the Trump administration.
As I wrote to my colleague who shared the article on LinkedIn, the “moment” they needed to meet happened last November. By January it was too late. And yet these folks have so much money and so much power, everyone in the sector is scared to call them on their b.s.
I work with foundations. I count several among my clients. But I’m under no illusions about how they work. The dynamics within major foundations are not geared towards saying the right things at the right times. Their silence of late says more about their power and complicity with those in power than it does about their bravery or strategy.
In my experience, foundations hire communications professionals for several reasons. Often it’s because they don’t want to communicate. Sometimes it’s because they want to feel better about sitting on top of billions of dollars. And very, very occasionally? It’s because they want them to actually communicate. It’s extremely rare for a communications person to be at the table when foundation decisionmaking is happening, and that’s a weakness.
Of course, it’s easy to slam foundations if you work for good causes. They bottleneck all the money and power that could be going to help people. They’re more about ego and tax avoidance than they are about doing the right thing. These are boring lines and they’ve been run out for years. I’m bored of myself repeating them.
The point I’m really making here is: It’s great to be quiet. But only when you’re doing it deliberately. If you’ve gone silent over recent months and you’re looking to find your voice again? I’m here to help. I won’t judge you and I won’t try to strong-arm you into going on the record. All I will say is: Ask yourself. Who is my silence really serving?
Then, let’s talk.
