Corporate shirt. PR flack. Web guy. Blogger. Beverage enthusiast. Hubby. Daddy. Diggity. Giggity.
This space for rent
Earlier Wednesday morning, he or she was tweeting on behalf of the Chrysler account. As I and many social-media pros do, this person probably had multiple desktop applications open on their screen, or maybe one app that fed multiple Twitter feeds—one of those being a personal account. One misfired tweet laden with the F-bomb, followed by immediate panic and what must have been some horribly uncomfortable phone calls, and by the afternoon said staffer was severed from said interactive agency as confirmed by the automaker.
(Read the offending tweet here, which was first RT'ed by @tverma29 and later reported on by Jalopnik, Mashable, The Detroit Free Press and even HuffPo before it was later regurgitated by USA Today, CNET, Autoblog and other outlets. For the record, @tverma29 has a name, and Trisha wryly gives her take on her personal blog.)
Everybody has an opinion on this incident, whether the punishment fit the crime, if one could call it that. Did Chrysler and New Media Strategies do the right thing, the only thing to do in this case and terminate the employee, or should they have taken a page from last month's Dogfish-Red Cross case? I'm torn, to be honest. I see every side of this, from Chrysler needing to act swiftly to protect its consumer brand to NMS needing to preserve the agency-client relationship at all costs, to coming to the defense of the pour soul at the center of it all. Hey, that could one day be someone from my social-media team. That could be me.
Sure mistakes happen, though for as forgiving a society as we claim to be, we are first-most cold and unforgiving, all too quick to cast the first stone, calling "OUT!" at the first strike. That's not a complaint, that's just reality. Face it, dropping the F-bomb, even accidentally, was a career-limiting move well before the web. I am a bit perplexed that NMS won't so much as acknowledge the incident on their website, blog, Twitter or Facebook. But I know all too well how that can go. Imagine the conversation: "Utter so much as a hint of this on any of your sites and we'll lawyer up." Maybe that's an unfair assumption, and perhaps both agency* and client are working up some sort of joint mea culpa, potentially to pre-empt any of those year-end business blunder lists.
But what of this mystery offender in question, alleged critic of Motor City traffic and current jobseeker? I don't really care what was going through his or her mind at the time, and I'm sure this person will land on both feet just fine. How, exactly, is what most intrigues me. Will we see this character at a conference any time soon, recounting that crazy day in March when their world turned upside down in a matter of minutes? Can they parlay this into a guest spot on Freakonomics Radio or a better gig or whatever golden egg gets laid before them, being a little older, a bit wiser?
Or will it all be a waste, just another cautionary tale for community managers to consider while a would-be web genius dons a smock at Starbucks? Because that would make me one angry f#@$%!...
* Interestingly enough, one of my Twitter followers pointed out that NMS seems to like a loose tongue.
I've had mixed emotions about this whole Toyota mess. Part of me jeered along with the rest of the blue-collar, red-blooded compatriots I grew up with in the Rust Belt that watched the reputation of our beloved American cars turn a not-so-lovely shade of patina from decades of poor decision-making. It's a part of me I'm not necessarily proud of and my world view is far more matured these days. Admittedly, I found myself momentarily pointing and laughing. "Ha ha, Toyota, feel that media heat. Hear that consumer rage. Taste that big government boot. Kiss that five-star favorability good-bye..."
Of course, part of me was compassionate. I feel for the affected families. From a business standpoint, you can't excuse such errors in judgment. There is no justification for silencing, stalling, covering up. But whether we like it or not, these things happen. Cracks form, things slip through them. Companies are people, too. Humans. Prone to human error. A $2 billion error notwithstanding litigation. Maybe Toyota sat on this far too long, maybe they didn't. It really doesn't matter. The good people behind a great company that build and market some of the world's best cars will pay the price for years to come.
It is times of corporate crisis like these that I hope that competent PR people are behind the scenes. Not just parading presidents around the morning network news, mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa. But credible, dedicated professionals that will go to mattresses to restore faith in their organization's name and reputation. PR pros that, when duty calls, leave their personal lives behind to become the unsung backroom heroes that won't rest until they can call mission accomplished.
I wasn't kidding when I said "years." Faulty brakes isn't a "sticky situation" that can be brushed aside after a few nights of bad late night comedy. No, this will take winning back the trust of owners and buyers, regulators, even dealers. Knowing at least one person pulling long hours for Toyota PR these last few weeks, I truly believe the automaker is on the road to recovery.
"Moving forward." It's been Toyota's slogan for some time. There is new meaning to that now. Like my own past perceptions, Americans have evolved -- and given the global economy, evolution means survival. Toyota will survive this and be a stronger company. The company is crash-coursing lessons their "American" competitors long learned the hard way. This will become fodder for PR textbooks for generations to come. Toyota will grow smarter and move forward. So too will the industry, and so will America.