Media Influence

You ask the online editor if you can do a survey, one that you could post online and have users complete to find out what stories they like to read online. You would like to know how they like the design/navigation of the Web sites, and how do they read the site (top down, straight to local news, etc.)? You feel confident in your survey-writing ability, since you are taking a survey-research course and this would fulfill a course requirement.

Your boss likes the idea. (He oversees all six people on the staff.) During down time at work, you write the questions as you think of them. When you finish, you give him a copy. Later, four of you (including your immediate supervisor) go outside for a couple hours, look over the survey, fine tune it, add questions (such as what type of content would the online readers be willing to pay for). You then make all of the group’s corrections and the survey is finished. All you have left to do is to sell it to “the big boss,” the general manager (GM), who oversees all of the online sites that the newspaper runs (the entertainment site, classifieds, etc.). You set up a meeting and your supervisor accompanies you. The GM receives a copy of the survey a week prior to the meeting, so that he could look over it.

At the meeting, the group sits down and you start your sell. The GM tells you the survey is a good idea, but says, “We already survey our readers.” Your initial, internal reaction is, “We do?” but you don’t say it, of course.

He continues, “When users log in to the site for the first time we ask them all of these same questions—what types of content they like.” He uses the example of how a lot of users like to read about travel. You know that travel is the least-hit topic on the site.

“This isn’t a marketing survey,” you say. “It’s a reader survey, strictly to learn what readers want news-wise.”

This doesn’t seem to make sense to the GM. You try to be as professional as you can and your supervisor tries to reinforce your point but is just as dumbfounded as you are. The survey is essentially a no-go. Your supervisor apologizes to you on the walk back to your desks. There was nothing he could really do, he says. He later writes an e-mail to your professor (the evaluation e-mail at the end of your class) apologizing that your survey won’t be used.

Here you are, willing to do something to improve the news site. Basically, free labor. And you were shot down, even though you have the backing of the entire online desk and your supervisor. You feel the GM was a little out of touch with the whole news process and what readers really wanted, but who are you to say this?

Welcome to the real world! Just as the content provider discovered that “things happen,” so too, do media managers as they try to use several types of information to make decisions. For example, a sports reporter discovered his newspaper’s star sports editor/columnist (and his immediate boss) plagiarized quotes from a news service. The reporter told the paper’s editor, who then fired the reporter. The paper’s editor, who realized proper channels had not been followed (the sports reporter also had told several other reporters and staffers), considered the reporter’s behavior a bigger threat to internal morale and organizational authority than that of the columnist. The sports editor subsequently was disciplined and eventually demoted (but his career was saved) while the rest of the staff was outraged!

This chapter discusses how media managers use (or don’t use) information for planning and controlling organizational behavior. More importantly, it suggests that information can come in any form, at any time, and that a good media manager transforms that information into knowledge—a proactive management tool that sorts, classifies, evaluates, and socially tests situations and people, thereby allowing a manager to make a more sound decision (see a full definition later in this chapter).

This chapter offers reasons knowledge for and procedural contexts in which media managers can comfortably use knowledge. As a reward for reading this text’s first nine chapters, you deserve to know—assuming you haven’t already come to the conclusion—that not everything we say or suggests works all the time. Decisions (chapter 1) go wrong; leadership (chapter 2) can be flawed; motivation (chapter 3) can be elusive and misfire; global markets (chapter 4) are complex and unpredictable; technology (chapter 5), market analysis (chapters 8 & 9) are just two tools; laws can be restrictive and ethics can be violated (chapter 6); and, finally, planning (chapter 7)—while another tool—cannot anticipate every reality.

The harsh reality, then, is that managers and their subordinates often behave in ways that seem unexplainable—much of it based on the types of information they have received and how they perceive it. As you’ll discover in the Extended Cases chapter following this chapter, not every situation arrives with a full set of data and information; often you’ll have to find more information online or in a library or a pamphlet or via talking to someone more experienced. As this chapter illustrates (and as the extended cases will test), media managers must learn to improvise and manage on the fly.

Certainly, managers can select from a wide range of information, depending on several factors, including the manager’s level in the organization, the long- or short-term nature of the decision, the organization’s size and complexity, and the nature of the firm. However, regardless of the information’s quality or source, some things just don’t seem to make sense. The next section discusses the thinking processes that often result in seemingly nonsensical managerial moments.

Facing “Unreality”

People are never dull and are full of surprises. However, fortunately, nothing is new under the behavioral sun. The following describes the cognitive theories or approaches that a media manager should include in his or her tool kit (or at least have in a filing cabinet under “huh?”).

Cognitive dissonance. Psychologists describe thoughts, or “cognitions” that contradict each other as “dissonant,” while cognitions that agree are “consonant.” Cognitions that neither agree nor disagree with each other are said to be “irrelevant.” Having a new cognition in opposition to a current cognition creates a state of “dissonance,” that IS great or small depending on the cognitions involved. You can reduce dissonance either by abolishing the dissonant cognitions, or by adding new consonant cognitions. When the dissonance level exceeds the resistance of one of the cognitions involved, you will change or abolish that cognition and, thus, reduce dissonance. Therefore, subordinates (or superiors) experiencing dissonance may look for information that will reduce dissonance. They will seek dissonance-reducing information and avoid dissonance-enhancing information. Some involuntarily exposed to dissonance may very well write off that information by overlooking, misjudging, or refuting it (Festinger, 1957).

This may sound similar to equity theory (Adams, 1963), which says inequity is a motivator. For example, employees who feel unfairly treated will attempt to achieve a sense of equity. A reporter could “satisfice” a story if he knows comparable reporters in the newsroom earn more money; changing how much he works, increasing his pay, changing how he compares himself, among other methods, may decrease the dissonance. However, this theory also has been seen (Aronson, 1969) as a connection to how people view themselves; e.g., cognitive dissonance arises not when people have conflicting thoughts, but instead, when they see their behavior as conflicting with their self-concept. Therefore, in this view, dissonance between “I’m a good reporter,” and “I plagiarized a story,” would not occur if the person viewed him- or herself as a liar.

To follow that thought, an editor may have various doubts about a story’s truthfulness, but she has to either publish or kill the story. But to work over time believing the story’s author always plagiarizes would be intolerable. Therefore, working conditions themselves prompt many managers to see what they want to see, or, technically speaking, to reduce dissonance. That’s not to excuse misbehavior, however; Macarena Hernandez could have used the same thought process when she noticed The New York Times 2003 story about a Texas woman whose soldier son was missing in Iraq. Instead, she notified her San Antonio Express-News editors that the story had elements “word for word” from her own story about the woman; this marked the beginning of the fall of renowned plagiarist Jayson Blair. The Blair scandal showed how well-intentioned editors can improperly use information. However, such celebrated cases—and plagiarism incidents—aren’t the norm when it comes to dissonance. Media managers create quite a bit of dissonance, for example, each time they critique someone’s work (What writer hasn’t thought their writing was perfect?) or decide not to choose someone for a promotion. Dissonance, in a sense, comes with the territory.

That’s especially true in this age of change and convergence. For example, it’s not uncommon to think negatively about employees in departments other than your own. Many advertising sales people, for example, believe journalists are spoiled, “prima donnas,” or elitist toward others in the organization. Journalists, for their part, may view non-newsroom personnel as being less educated, lower class, or less trustworthy. Imagine the dissonance—positive and negative—when such employees are thrown together on a task force or team venture. That’s what happened when a group of Swedish journalists merged with some of their newspaper’s advertising sales staff to create the paper’s Web site. The groups came to respect each other; close working conditions meant old-group identities were renegotiated and reformed, but not before difficulty arose between members of the merged departments (Fagerling & Norbäck, 2005). Employees naturally seek a stable state where minimal dissonance exists, and change may threaten that state. In organizations with a culture of trust, where change is frequent, and employees expect positive outcomes, employees tend to already be receptive to change (Burnes & James, 1995). Any kind of management-imposed compliance with new rules or ideals, then, can expect to generate dissonance.

If you’re a student, you no doubt recall a time when you believed your performance in a class or on a test was top notch. If you’re like most people, that performance may actually have been less sterling than you imagined or expected, at least in the eyes of your instructor. Such personal or near-personal interactions frequently make solid opportunities to sow the seeds of emotional dissonance and stress, particularly when it involves role evaluations (self-evaluations and those of supervisors and/or subordinates) and self-esteem (Abraham, 1999). However, many editors avoid these opportunities because of feelings similar to those vented below by a former Washington Post reporter (Downie, Bennett, & Coleman, 2006, p. 20):

“I found the experience frustrating and humiliating,” said a former education reporter, who left in 2004. “My assignment editor asked me for feedback after she gave me my evaluation and then cut me off and argued with what I was saying. I never finished. She then told me to sign the evaluation that day because she was in a hurry. I got the impression that my input was unnecessary and my involvement a formality.”

And if you’re soon graduating, you most likely know about the notoriously low beginning pay scales of many journalistic positions. We know that job satisfaction has a big impact on dissonance; we also know that older journalists are more satisfied than younger journalists (Weaver & Wilhoit, 1996), with higher pay a probable influence. So it’s not unusual to—in your first two years as a professional—discover considerable dissonance when you ponder your situation: a low-paying job, probably in a smaller locale with limited nightlife, away from your primary family, possessing a burning desire to move up the professional ladder in pay and status. Now, consider your supervisor’s dilemma in that situation: train you so you’re ready when it’s time to move up but understand your behavior and try to keep you motivated until then. That may explain why they’re sending you to cover that energy conference that you didn’t ask to attend but for which you’re grateful to get away from the office!

As the manager in that scenario, you may find yourself scratching your head, flipping a coin, and hoping for the best. At least employee evaluations usually come only once a year. Seriously, such situations—in addition to testing your patience—will test your knowledge of motivational theory and your ability to clearly communicate with the involved employees. You should be prepared for both and manage such information accordingly.

Prospecting. Matt prided himself on his recruiting ability. As the managing editor of one of the top 10 newspapers in the country, he was intent on diversifying the newsroom—starting with the kid in front of him. Deep South native Earl was 4 years into his career at a little southern afternoon daily, having worked his way up the ladder to an assistant city editor position there but feeling overwhelmed and looking for a change. Matt’s big-city daily beckoned—a general assignment reporting job, nice, union-based pay, and a chance to see the rest of the country. But the visit had left him cold: The paper’s newsroom looked like any other, the city’s downtown was cold and dirty (it was late February), minorities were hard to find, and reporting meant starting over again, with editors in control of your fate. Still, this was a chance at the big time.

Before you try to determine whether Earl will take the job, you need to understand prospect theory (Kahneman & Tversky, 1979), which concerns the behavior of individuals faced with two alternatives. Often, people make irrational choices—some might say “gambles”—in such situations. Prospect theory predicts that preferences will depend on how a choice is framed or presented. If the reference point—the issue as it’s framed (usually seen as the status quo)—is viewed as positive, then the opposing choice will be seen as a risk to avoid. If the issue’s framed negatively, then the opposing choice will be seen as a risk to be sought and taken. In some respects, this resembles a costs-benefits analysis with an added, emotional factor.

You can probably foresee that prospect theory potentially has much larger implications in managing. It points to the power managers may have in framing events or issues and the degree to which the frame gets accepted (e.g., see George, Chattopadhyay, Sitkin, & Barden, 2006). In media managing, prospect-theory applications may arise in many settings: strategizing and planning, motivating, organizing—in short, any time risk is perceived, which usually is every day. Editors always take risks in deciding what’s news, for example, with the fear of being scooped, embarrassed or seen as the top risk. Of greater concern, as seen in Matt and Earl’s dilemma, are those key or pivotal instances when perceptions of risk vary and may provide a difference of opinion or differing behaviors.

Of greater concern, as seen in Matt and Earl’s dilemma, are instances when perceptions of risk vary and may provide a difference of opinion or differing behaviors that puzzle or confuse managers. For example, why do some reporters fabricate and plagiarize and most don’t? Why do some people see teams (or any other kind of change) as a threat? Why do some people conform to group pressures while others chafe? Why do some people quit while others persist? Many such questions will never have a satisfactory, clear-cut answer. However, the media manager must continue to ask these questions in order to effectively manage. For instance, some reporters know more (or at least their news copy seems to indicate as much) about the legal restrictions on journalism than others. But a manager can only provide so much education, which by itself can prevent only so much behavior. Apparently frequent and informal discussions of legal problems raise awareness of the law—even the law’s more formal aspects (Voakes, 1995). Therefore, an editor or news director should seek to foster discussion and work to incorporate positive, enabling framing at every opportunity.

Overcoming assumptions plays an important role in this approach. For example, simply because a person has a college journalism degree does not mean that person’s supervisor should presume that the person is fully ready to do the job when hired. Yet, a national survey of TV news directors asking about their employees’ abilities in story development, available training programs, and training areas in which news directors have interest indicated that TV stations have relied too heavily on higher education to provide all the knowledge and skills TV journalists need to function in the profession (Ellis & Jabro, 1997). Too often, managers assume that they and their subordinates carry the same attitudes and values, when research has shown that even managers have different values (Sylvie & Huang, 2006).

Assumptions also stem from selective perception, or how individuals perceive things differently according to their expectations. An assignment editor who’s been to dozens of school-board meetings believes that a reporter should never leave a meeting early because important issues sometimes get decided late in the meeting. A brand new reporter who’s never covered a school-board meeting doesn’t necessarily know that and assumes all the important issues have been covered, especially when there’s nothing controversial left on the agenda. Therefore, it may seem to the assignment editor that the reporter should have stayed at the meeting until the bitter end (when the school board decided, after an executive session, to file for bankruptcy), but the reporter may believe the meeting was “essentially” over, the bankruptcy news was “just one of those things” and that nothing was wrong. Selective perception is just one bias among many, as Fig. 10.1 illustrates.

Therefore, although media managers can never completely eliminate surprise judgments, evaluations or decisions by subordinates, they can at least understand what elements influence such results. That’s why Matt was not surprised when Earl rejected the job offer, which he saw as a step down from the mental challenges of editing. Matt suspected as much by listening to Earl discuss his hopes for the future and by understanding that not everyone is the same. Earl wound up going to graduate school, while Matt became editor of the paper.

Myth-making. The headline said it all: “Board probes special ed director’s use of funds.” It was the talk of talk radio, the lead story on the six o’clock news, and a juicy whodunit with all the makings of a soap opera. Did she or didn’t she? Was she really cashing in on less-privileged kids? Jorge should have been happy that such a hot item was the story everyone on his beat wanted to discuss. There was only one thing wrong: Jorge didn’t write the story; his own city editor scooped him.

BillyBob Turner was no ordinary city editor; a Pulitzer-finalist as a city hall reporter and a legendary investigative writer, he was known for his exposés on everything from vote buying in rural counties to gambling in the police department. No local politician wanted to get a call from him because it could only mean bad news. However, BillyBob was pursued by a competing organizaton for its city editor position, and he took it because it doubled his salary and he was challenged with making the paper a hard-hitting local-news leader. He still enjoyed reporting, however, and he had pursued the special ed story for a year, finally breaking it in yesterday’s paper. Unfortunately for Jorge, BillyBob never told him about it. In fact, the day the story broke, he gave Jorge a paternal pat on the back and said, “Yep, Jorge, that was a good story; let me tell you how I did it.”

FIGURE 10.1. Decision-making and behavioral biases.

Media managers like to believe they know what they are doing—they have their work situations fairly under control, their subordinates usually do their jobs and as they’re told, they (the managers), for the most part, get along with others in an atmosphere constructive for working, and, they represent models of reasonable management; e.g., they make sound, rational, and logical decisions. They strongly hold this belief and behave accordingly. However, some of the same managers will sell their souls for a promotion or pay raise, or arbitrarily and capriciously decide to fire or transfer a subordinate, or tear apart your social plans on a moment’s whim of “planning” or routinely make decisions without input from others. Those lofty self-beliefs? Myths, theories, and things we all espouse to be. The “real” manager is the one who just refused to listen to your appeal of her decision to send you to the electric-company office with a drug-store thermometer to see “if those folks practice what they preach on energy saving”? That, unfortunately, was real—a “theory in use” (Argyris, 2000).

In short, we often say one thing and do another. Such “Model I” behavior springs from our desire to be in unilateral control, to win, to suppress negative feelings, and to act as rationally as possible, which leads us to (Argyris, 2000, p. 5):

… advocate our position, make evaluations of performance, and offer attributions about others’ intentions in such a way that we remain in control, maximize our chances to win, and suppress negative feelings. In practice, this means that we act in ways that encourage neither inquiry into our views nor the robust testing of the claims that we make. Indeed, the only test possible under these conditions is one that uses self-referential logic: “Trust me; I know what I am doing.”

Model I practitioners defensively project blame for errors on others and on the system, which results in defensive dialogue and—astoundingly—an unawareness that they behave as such. They tend to advocate general, vague benchmarks, or goals while simultaneously avoiding any challenge or attempt to accurately measure progress via the use of more projection or, worse, repressing any negative responses or assessment. Let’s use a perennially underachieved goal—diversification of content and of the newsroom—to show how this works.

All Model I behavior springs from a set of general, underlying governing conditions (the lack of diversity, political, and economic pressure from interested parties [e.g., advertisers and readers], and the lack of effective retention tools). These variables prompt action strategies that media managers and their subordinates use in reaction. A typical management reaction might include “The newsroom’s not minority friendly. We’re not nurturing minority journalists’ creativity.” Supervisors should more actively and regularly address career-development and advancement issues for journalists of color; and since minority journalists themselves are diverse, the company must tailor recruitment and retention efforts more to the individual (based on McGill, 2000).

Subordinates, on the other hand, might say, “The pay is too low, and the hours are too long.” Minorities feel as if they have to work harder than nonminorities to get ahead; minorities leave because they feel more pressure than nonminorities to cover racial/ethnic stories, the company “has bent over backward” to hire Blacks and women for high-profile jobs at the expense of equally or more qualified White males. They also might say, “There’s not enough time to properly recruit. This is just a political thing, for appearances’ sake (e.g., diversity doesn’t really matter). We have to lower our standards to find minorities, and the bigger media companies get the lion’s share of minorities while smaller outfits have to fight over the crumbs.” Note that both management’s and subordinates’ responses are somewhat vague and, to a large degree, untestable.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary or nonsensical about these responses. However, the problem is that they can be self-fulfilling; they’re defensive because no one wants to look as if it’s their fault (they all want to “win”). For example, mid-level editors see their supervisors as unrealistic and not mindful of the degree of work involved in retaining minorities, and as sending mixed messages (‘We want you to hire more minorities but we’re not going to give you any additional resources to do it.”). Top-level editors see mid-level editors as lazy, satisficing, always wanting money thrown at problems, and also sending mixed messages (“We want to hire more minorities, but we’re unwilling to take the time to do it.”). Such feelings create cynicism and further mistrust while, more importantly, discourage constructive action by making employees believe they’ll get “burned” for doing so (“Even if I hire more minorities, the nonminorities will get angry, and my bosses will be on my back for not promoting the minorities fast enough or not being able to make everybody happy. To hell with that!”). This essentially creates silence or an absence of action that can be misinterpreted as a lack of caring or a lack of ability, which then continues to feed the negative cycle. Eventually, no change or learning occurs because no one wants to talk about it for fear of “losing control” or being on the losing side.

To avoid such an end, managers need to engage in Model II behavior (Argyris, 2000). This involves a conscious testing of the vaguely worded, untestable assumptions or rationales people offer when faced with an issue or problem. For example, “How do we know money is a problem in retaining minorities? Have we asked? Have we studied the issue by comparing salaries of minorities and nonminorities?” If the answers indicate these are valid points, the manager acts accordingly and works to correct the problem.

Too often, however, the answers also are vague, untestable, defensive statements (e.g., “What else could it be?” or “I just know! Trust me.”). In that case, the manager advocates (and validates) his or her own views while insisting on valid measures or reasons, taking care not to put others on the defensive. Using this approach means you are willing to share power with “anyone who has competence and is relevant to deciding” the issue or problem (p. 76). This approach not only encourages honest dialogue, but also requires participants to engage in authentic dialogue and leave their Model I “comfort zone.” Only then can a media manager hope her employees will incorporate her goals in their own personal set of motivational drives and that productive behavior will follow.