I'm giving up on PR

I was just reading in PR Week about the 'Barcelona Declaration of Research Principles', the first global standard of PR measurement, that has been created at the second European Summit on Measurement.

Leave it to the PR industry to slap on an official sounding title for what is, essentially, a pile of shit.

The Barcelona Declaration of Research Principles. The Treaty of Versailles. The WTO Doha Round.

With a name like that I expect a lot was accomplished. But instead we get meaningless PR bullshit of the highest order:

1. Goal setting and measurement are fundamental aspects of any PR programmes. < No fucking shit asshole.
2. Media measurement requires quantity and quality - clip cuts are generally meaningless. < Qualitative and quantitative measurement? Groundbreaking.
3. Advertising Value Equivalents (AVEs) do not measure the value of PR and do not inform future activity; they measure the cost of media space. < Yes. Everyone has known this. For decades.
4. Social media can and should be measured. < FFS
5. Measuring outcomes is preferred to measuring media results. < Preferred. But we can't always measure outcomes, so lets just fall back on media results.
6. Business results can and should be measured where possible. < ‘Can’ and ‘where possible’. Vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaague.
7. Transparency and replicability are paramount to sound measurement. < You must be able to replicate how many times you called a journalist to ask if they received your email.

We’re told that this "is the first step towards creating a worldwide agreement on how the impact of PR can be measured." Here's a thought? Why not skip this first step of principles, and use the 3-day jolly in Barcelona to fucking get on with it.

My favourite bit is that these "principles will now be tweaked until a final version is published in mid July." One month to tweak 7 sentences?

Bravo PR, you've outdone yourself with FAIL this time.

So on that note, I think I'm done with PR for a little while.

I'm still around, but I need to spread my wings and see what else is out there. Might change direction and head towards Adland where the chicks are equally fucking hot, budgets are bigger and staff are even less clued up on social media than PRs.

My Media Week: Bitches, this is how Sean376 rolls

Following on from Claudine Collin's gritty look into the life of Media I thought you would all like to know about my own day to day routine.  Many thanks to WAS' top geek Chris 'the hunk' Qwglhm (it's pronounced Applegate) for making a formal request. Unfortunately, PR Week wasn't interested in creating a new column for London's 14th best social media expert (it's a complicated triangle involving Danny, me and Daljit), but I thought it would be waste if I didn't share my story about running my own agency with the whole world.

Monday

After the morning coffee, I scrolled through Twitter for a while looking for inane conversations to join with people I have secretly grown to resent on account of their higher follower count. Decided to stop after about an hour because I realised that reading news articles from others doesn't actually count as 'work'.

I become a bit needy for attention and ego stroking, so it's back onto Twitter where I scour the stream of tweets for the lasted news, which is inevitably from Mashable.

Tuesday

Networking events are my favourite times of the week. It's when people actually get to see me without the screen of the computer  and really get to know what makes Sean376 special; and it's the only time I get out of my mum's house. Tonight, thankfully, there's the blogger meet up where all my virtual friends meet up in real life and realise that they've got nothing else to talk about apart from work. But that's OK with me, social media is my passion and I like to show off in front of the new grads who don't realise that none of us are making very much money from social media (ask @Wadds).

I wait my turn patiently, usually chatting to some nobody like @psgrist until I get my turn with Michael Litman. Thank God he's not too cool for us or he would have all the social media bitches hanging off his cock. Instead he's humble enough to sit and share his own thoughts and own knowledge with the rest of us - like he does on his blog.
 
Wednesday
 
Today, I pay a visit to my accountant, Smithe & Smithe, in Chelsea. The posh twat Henry Smithe proceeds to tell me that Sean376 Agency is in arrears to the tune of £137K. It seems that the £75 monthly retainer from Catford KFC won't fund the Cristal, strippers, Jay-Z guest appearances and wooing the Chowney with new mobile phone handsets. That's OK though, I reassure him that I'm currently in talks with Weber Shandwick and Hill & Knowlton to be acquired. Another two agencies looking to buy talent because their internal teams are thick-as-shit-online-illiterates. Put yo diamond's in de air, yo!
 
Thursday
Writer's block hits as I ghost write a blog post for a client. I take some time out to enjoy my Earl Gray while my cat, LOLcat, purrs beside me. As I stare into his proud, whiskered face I wonder why he is the only one that truly understands me? A quick cry in the toilette, and I'm back at my MacBook to finish the post, which has now become a top 10 list of social media rules for engagement. I cross my fingers and hope that no one reads the blog post from that show off Brian Solis about 21 rules for social media engagement. Dick.

PR Week today! Anticipation builds as I wonder which regular talking head the will roll out this week. Wadds? Brucey Bruce Bruce? Dhaljit? Or Dr Web himself @drewb. None of the above, but I'm happy to settle for Jon Silk's comment in a short piece that literally could have been made by anyone.


Friday

Mid-morning wank is interrupted by a client call from Catford KFC looking for a report that demonstrates the value of Twitter in driving people to the store. I frantically try to make the account look active and follow more people, most of whom I know already. And don't live in Catford. And would have no interest in the campaign anyway. But fuck it.

Bank Holiday Weekend

Start the weekend wanking over pics from my Twitter background. Try and focus on @sean376sangels but get thrown off by the looks on most people's stupid fucking stupid ass faces. So I pack it away and some time updating my RSS reader with more blogs I will seldom read, and think about where I should next take my personal brand. This is interupted, of course, by an extended wankathon powered by YouPorn.


Sunday: Sit and cry. Unfortunately to wipe away the tears, I accidently use the weekend's spunk towelette. Wash face. Do laundry.

Sean 376's World-Cup-Elite-Team-Blog-Post-Circle-Jerk-Bum-Fest

Following Adam Vincenzi's latest blog post I'd thought I'd also put together an arselicky, link baiting post of my own about my favourite 6 a side communications bloggers. Bear in mind that I haven't actually met most of these people and there's no fucking way I'd meet them for a drink outside of networking events.


Goalie - JedHallam

When it comes to the pressure of the penalty shoot out, there's no one I would have inbetween the sticks more than Nottingham-born Fairy of the PR industry. For an example of what it means to step up to the plate, see the whole #wolfstargate scandal of 2010. When all the Tweets were cussing him because they liked Adam Vincenzi a bit betterer (but failed to read the blog post in question), Jed stood up for himself by hiding behind his computer screen chewing his bollocks.


Defence - Robin Grant

Everyone hates him, but he doesn't care. Like a raging bull, you can rely on Robin to fuck anything up the arse if it made him a tidy profit. Imagine: It's 0-0 and you're 30 seconds from full time and Litman (on the opposing team) has the ball and beats Grant for pace and runs past him. Grant, struggling with his weight (of expectation) chases him but can't quite catch up to make the tackle. Make no mistake, Grant would chop the bastard Litman down, take the red card for the team and hang his head in shame for cheating the whole world. You want a winner? You want Grant


Defence - Tim Whitlock

Again referring to the #Starfoxgate scandal, there were two heroes who really pushed the boat out in support of Paratus' spamming. While Dirk Singer will get most of the glory (hole), Tim Whitlock's comment about 'not even knowing who Jed was' was brilliant. Oh fuck it that was my one joke, I've nothing else to say about him - does he write websites?


Midfield - wadds

What is there left to say about Stephen "Wadds" Waddington? When you need someone centre of the park, pulling the strings you need Speed Comms leader. All roads lead to Wadds as evidenced by #chairmanwaddsdrinks bumming hashtag from a couple of weeks back. Leader of the CIPR circle-jerk, Chowney's favourite writer (It's not Danny Whatmough - don't be fucking stupid) - Wadds will boss the midfield and pull all the strings like Speed MD, Steve Earl does with Wadds.


Centre Midfield - Adam Vincenzi

The Ad Man. Admeister. Comms Chat Twitter bloke. Adam Vinhowthefuckdoyoupronouncethat. Sturdy, bald and if he wasn't so fucking cheesily nice all the time he'd look like a right 'ard bastard. This would be a tactical move from Sean376 just to scare to opponents. Something like this, "Adam, FFS, do not open your mouth, do not smile and do not start to talk about either 'coms' or 'chatting'! Just stand there and look fucking hard!"


Striker - Ste Davies

Leading the line would be Geordie Bell End Stephen 'Ste' Davies. The typical footballer, born on the streets, raised by a flock of seagulls, Ste's trademark Tramp Stamps are evidence of his poverty-strewn upbringing. Like Gary Lineker, Ste would get all the glory without doing much work (well he wrote a blog in University I suppose). Like most footballers, he would also fuck anything that moves.


Subs: @Ellabella83 just to see her in some tight shorts. Photos please?