Description
This paper offers a critique of conventional approaches to so-called ‘reputation management’: the business function concerned with influencing, often through diverse communication practices, stakeholders’ perceptions and estimation of an organisation’s economic and social practices.
Surma, A. (2006). The rhetoric of reputation: Vision not visibility. PRism 4(1):http://praxis.massey.ac.nz/prism_on-line_journ.html
The Rhetoric of Reputation: Vision not Visibility
Anne Surma
Murdoch University
Abstract
This paper offers a critique of conventional
approaches to so-called ‘reputation
management’: the business function concerned
with influencing, often through diverse
communication practices, stakeholders’
perceptions and estimation of an organisation’s
economic and social practices. Reputation is
frequently described and valued (from
management as well as from conventional
public relations perspectives) in terms of an
organisation’s visibility: its capacity to be seen
to be (doing) good through various textual
media including corporate responsibility
reports, speeches and presentations, news
media reports, and so on. Hence there is a
significant connection between rhetorical
practices and reputation management. Drawing
on cultural theorist Vivian Sobchack’s (2004)
work, I suggest that textual rhetoric can and
should be more than a form of visibility. Rather,
it can also be a crucial form of social and
ethical practice, the meaning and value of which
are dialogically negotiated by organisations
and stakeholders. To this end, I argue that texts
cannot simply manufacture or reflect reputation.
Like language, reputation is not an objective
entity, but is envisioned by ongoing practices
and their negotiated and subjective evaluation
by an organisation and its stakeholders. I draw
on selected texts (including Nike’s most recent
corporate responsibility report) to support the
discussion.
1
1
An earlier version of this article was delivered as a
seminar paper at the Centre for Public Communication
Research at Bournemouth University, England, in J une
2005. Dr Surma’s work on Sobchack and objectivating will
also appear, but in a different context, in Surma
(forthcoming).
Introduction
An organisation builds or establishes its
reputation. It earns and may (or may not)
deserve its reputation. It may work to sustain or
maintain its reputation. However, it may also
lose—temporarily or irretrievably—its
reputation. These active, idiomatic verb forms
signal the agency of the organisation as subject
in relation to its reputation status. Interestingly,
however, this is a clear, linguistically marked,
instance where agency is only possible when
accounted for by an other or others. An
organisation’s reputation depends on what
others think about it (the term reputation comes
from the Latin reputare, to think over). More
importantly, for an organisation to be defined by
its reputation is for it to be defined according to
an individual or group’s judgment of its
trustworthiness and its integrity—that is,
according to its judged capacity to act ethically
and responsibly in all its interactions and
practices. This point is crucial to this paper,
notwithstanding that some theorists argue that
corporate reputation is made up of ‘six major
facets’ (not all of them relating, or not at least
directly, to ethics and responsibility). Lewis
suggests the facets are financial performance,
treatment of staff, environmental responsibility,
social responsibility, leadership, and quality of
products/services (Lewis, 2003, p. 362). Harris
Interactive and Dr Charles Fombrun, director
executive of the Reputation Institute have
designed a ‘Reputation Quotient’ (RQ), “an
assessment tool that captures perceptions of
corporate reputations across industries, among
multiple audiences, and is adaptable to countries
outside the United States”, which uses six
similar dimensions of reputation: products and
services, financial performance, workplace
2
environment, social responsibility, vision and
leadership, and emotional appeal (Harris
Interactive, 2006, ¶.6).
By contrast, in this paper I focus specifically
on reputation in relation to notions of ethics and
responsibility, and emphasise stakeholders’
active roles in enabling an organisation to be
defined as reputable (or disreputable). As a
consequence, I share the view of Hutton,
Goodman, Alexander and Genest that an
organisation “attempting to manage [its]
reputation might be likened to [one] trying to
manage [its] own popularity (a rather awkward,
superficial and potentially self-defeating
endeavour)” (2001, p. 249). In this paper, when
I write of reputation, the significant connection
between rhetorical practice and reputation
becomes clear. Details or accounts of a
company’s specific social, economic,
environmental and other activities are not
necessarily directly experienced by its
stakeholders; in fact, more often than not they
are communicated to them by the company
itself or by various third parties. The role of
communication, and particularly of oral and
written language, in the forging or modifying of
a company’s reputation is therefore pivotal.
Thus, I reconceive reputation as the verbal
expression of a perspective developed and
articulated through (direct or indirect)
communicative processes between an
organisation and its stakeholders. In this
account, reputation is understood as a discursive
or textual perception of ethical (or unethical),
responsible (or irresponsible) action relating to
social, environmental and economic concerns.
This status, which is always modifiable, results
from various direct or indirect exchanges
between organisations and stakeholders. Given
this focus, the preoccupations of the literature
concerned with image management, impression
management and identity management in
relation to reputation are not germane to this
paper’s enquiry, though a great deal of research
dealing with that nexus has been undertaken
(see, for example, Allen & Caillouet, 1994;
Fombrum, 1996; Van den Bosch, De J ong, &
Elving, 2005; Carter, 2006. See also Pruzan,
2001, for discussion of the pragmatic
perspective on and approach to corporate
reputation).
Typically, and as we will see illustrated
below, reputation is today described and valued
(from management as well as from conventional
public relations perspectives) in terms of an
organisation’s visibility: its capacity to be seen
to be (doing) good through various textual
media including corporate responsibility reports,
speeches and presentations, news media reports,
and so on. Sobchack’s (2004) work suggests
that our image-centric Western culture—one
obsessed with visibility—has obscured the
vitally dualistic nature (the equally significant
subjective and objective dimensions) of human
existence. Sobchack’s work is useful in helping
rearticulate the view that textual rhetoric is a
crucial form of social and ethical practice, the
meaning and value of which are negotiated by
writers and readers, speakers and listeners. This
view is not new, of course. Porter (1998, pp.
33–41) directs us to the concerns of classical
scholars Aristotle and Cicero with the
relationship between rhetoric and ethics. Such
concerns have been refined and developed in
both the new rhetoric (particularly in the work
of Kenneth Burke (1969, 1970)), and in
postmodern accounts of rhetoric as writing (see,
for example, Porter, 1998; Berlin, 2003; Katz,
2003; Surma, 2005). Given this understanding
of rhetoric, I show that texts cannot simply
manufacture or reflect reputation. Like
language, reputation is not an objective entity,
but is constructed by ongoing practices and their
various and variable evaluations by
organisations and their stakeholders (see Surma,
2005, pp. 23–35).
Through brief reference to selected high-
profile current approaches to reputation
management, and through a necessarily cursory
examination of Nike’s most recent corporate
social responsibility (CSR) initiative as a more
encouraging instance of corporate rhetoric
which embodies reputation sensitivity in action,
I illustrate the failure by many public relations
professionals to acknowledge the ethical
dimension of language. Moreover, I
demonstrate that there is, in fact, a failure to
acknowledge the significance of language at all,
except in terms of its function as an instrumental
commodity that provides deliverable ‘messages’
or ‘communications’. Thus, such rhetorical
efforts to develop and strengthen reputation
3
(and, by extension, trust and credibility) are
both misguided and destined to fall short.
Without an understanding of language as having
the potential to connect writers with readers or
speakers with listeners in a dynamic moral
relationship, public communication risks being
derided as hollow rhetoric, as corporate speak,
as shallow spin, as dead language. In other
words, the efforts to ‘manage’ reputation
through communication activities primarily
interested in establishing or sustaining
reputation through cultivation of a favourable
image are superficial and inadequate, as well as
arguably unethical.
Vision and visibility: Vivian Sobchack,
culture and language
Language and specifically textual rhetoric
may be treated as a potential instance of
objectivation, a process (according to Berger &
Pullberg, 1965) “whereby human subjectivity
embodies itself in products that are available to
oneself and one’s fellow men [sic] as elements
of a common world” ( p. 199; italics in original).
Vivian Sobchack is a cultural theorist whose
writing frequently focuses on film and on
questions of the experience of the lived body
and its representations through various media
(Sobchack, 2004; see also Surma, forthcoming).
Most helpful to this paper is her harnessing of
Berger and Pullberg’s ideas about objectivation
to her work on the dialectical processes of the
body in culture and her discussion of the
contemporary lived body’s pivotal (but now
threatened) role in making meaning—ethical
and aesthetic meaning—in contemporary
culture. These ideas help rearticulate and
reinforce the importance of public language in
general, and the ways in which public relations
texts negotiate questions of reputation in
particular.
Sobchack’s interest is in the inevitable and
potentially creative tension between the
experience of the lived human body and the
body as a cultural object. In relation to her
discussion of the body in contemporary culture,
Sobchack distinguishes between the body that
sees: that is, vision, as “a subjective capacity
and perceptual activity”, and the body which is
seen: that is, visibility, as “an objective and
perceptual product” (2004, p. 179). Sobchack
argues that in western culture our potential for
perception, for vision—for seeing as “personal
subjects of vision” and “social objects for
vision” (2004, p. 181; italics in original)—has
been largely reduced to visibility (being seen).
She claims that our image-centric culture has
“qualified and transformed the essential
structures that constitute the duality of our
subjective and objective modalities of being as
necessarily objectivating—that is open,
noncoincident and intersubjective—into merely
sufficient and reductive structures of
objectification and reification” (2004, pp.181–2;
italics in original). In other words, Sobchack is
suggesting that our image-centric culture has
obscured the vitally dualistic nature—the
equally significant subjective and objective
dimensions—of our human existence. As a
consequence, the body becomes objectified,
reduced to the status of an object, a ‘thing’. It is
thus denied its full human potential as a feeling
and thinking subject with the capacity to
represent itself to others and to relate to others
as distinct subjective identities in the world.
So why and how, exactly, is Sobchack’s
argument relevant to this discussion? It is my
contention that there are at least three significant
problems with much contemporary language use
in public, each of which reduces its use to a
process of objectifying (rather than
objectivating). First is the regular political and
corporate refusal to admit the human into
language and language exchange in writing
practice. We see instances of this in the
obsessive and ubiquitous managerial/marketing
language of ‘structures’, ‘systems’, ‘resources’,
‘markets’, ‘models’, ‘deliverables’, and so on,
or simply where language seems to be largely
writer-oriented and self-referential rather than
directed towards the other. Second is the use of
so-called ‘hollow rhetoric’, that is, language
claims unmatched by the social practices they
describe. This is to abuse language, treating it as
if it neither matters nor is material and vitally
connected to the lives, activities, and meanings
it claims to represent, but as if it were empty
space, as ‘hollow’. Third is forgetting that
language, once spoken and/or written is for the
other to interpret (just as our actions once
committed are there to be judged not only by
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ourselves but by others). Our intentional use of
language by no means guarantees its meanings
for and uses by others. In fact, I would argue
that it is our responsibility to allow others to use
our language (rhetoric as matter) otherwise, to
understand our language from the places, the
bodies of others. When we use language to
objectify rather than objectivate, we sever
connections with others, and we risk, as a
consequence, denying our human, ethical
relationship with them.
Against these approaches to and uses of
language, then, my interest is in public relations
texts as living, dialogic texts on the one hand
and as culturally visible objects on the other.
Texts are developed and circulated by
organisations and corporations to represent who
they are, what they do, and how they do it. This
function for texts has become increasingly
important, as the demand that organisations
make their practices available for public
scrutiny grows. These texts might be media
releases, CSR reports, annual reports, company
profiles, web sites, or email exchanges. They
may take the form of CEO speeches, community
forums, mail bombs to employees, and so on. Of
course, these verbal texts are not human bodies:
they do not think, breathe, or feel as humans do.
But my view is that we would be wise to treat
our texts as rhetorical matter/bodies gesturing
towards our humanness, and as appealing to the
humanness of others. For unless we understand
texts as rhetorical, they will fail to call to others,
and thus fail to help forge meaningful and
ethical relations, that is to say, relations of
responsibility. This account once again,
therefore, reasserts the importance of rhetoric as
a social process. It also highlights the idea that
the world we produce through language must, as
Berger and Pullberg also declare, “be confirmed
and re-confirmed by others” (Berger &
Pullberg, 1965, p. 201).
Most contemporary powerful public
relations, despite its apparent embracing of a
values-based approach which is interested in
communicating an organisation’s “reputation or
practical goodness” (Richards, 2004, p. 173),
attempts to veil the practice of rhetoric as a
social process. It does so in suggesting, by its
use of rhetoric, that the world it creates through
language represents a set of immutable truths.
This effort aims to objectify language: to
disconnect it from its producer as subject
(through a strategy of self-displacement) and to
disconnect it from others, who are thereby
apparently designated no role except to accept
or spectate. In other words, the capacity for
connection to others through language is
impoverished.
So let us explore now some instances of how
public relations writers view language. Is
language regarded as subject of vision, and for
vision, and as a means of communicating with
and relating to others in broad or general terms?
Or is it regarded merely as visibility (language
not for the other or with the other or towards the
other, but simply to be seen by the other)? This
exploration of language use also suggests, by
extension, how public relations writers and the
organisations they represent perceive, define
and approach the notion of reputation—of how
they are regarded by their diverse publics—and
how to ‘manage’ it.
Reputation and visibility
My interest in reputation in this section of the
paper is specifically in how public relations
writers (and the clients they represent) appear to
understand the ways their various publics
develop perceptions about them. A brief look at
two of the world’s most prominent public
relations companies’ approaches to reputation
management will illustrate conventional
industry esteem of and faith in reputation as a
visible product (or objective entity) to be
manufactured and promoted. Reputation in these
examples is rarely treated as a process of
objectivating. Such treatment would involve
articulating a language that simultaneously
acknowledges rhetoric’s subjective and
objective dimensions: in other words, rhetoric
that emphasises its vital connection with the
embodied actions and practices of its speaker-
writer subjects, at the same time as it presents
those actions as rhetorical objects for others to
interpret and respond to as informed and
discriminating subjects. However, far more
often, rhetoric circulated in the public space is
developed as an object of perception.
On Burson-Marsteller’s—reputedly the
world’s largest public relations firm—web site
5
there is a page dedicated to its expertise in
reputation management, and a link is provided
to a relevant case study. The use of language in
the firm’s introductory comments on reputation
management is revelatory:
J ust like any tangible asset,
corporate brands and reputations
must be managed, and getting the
right advice, counsel and tools, to
help you develop proactive
strategies or navigate major crises
is essential. Understanding how
your organization is perceived,
integrating best practices and
leveraging your CEO are just a
few of the things you need to get
started (Burson-Marsteller, 2006a,
¶.3).
The case study used as a showcase sample of
Burson-Marsteller’s reputation management
describes how SAP—a major German company
specialising in business technology solutions—
made a transition, in 2003, from joint to sole
CEO status under Burson-Marsteller’s direction:
Burson-Marsteller was retained to:
ensure a smooth transition from
two CEOs to one, raising
Kagermann's visibility globally,
while maintaining Plattner's
legacy; raise awareness of
strengths of entire top management
team, demonstrating stability and
depth; and, establish Kagermann's
leadership agenda and vision for
SAP during his critical first 100
days as sole CEO (Burson-
Marsteller, 2006b, ¶.4).
Henning Kagermann (the more serious,
“cerebral” CEO of the duo) was being prepared
to take sole control of the company. The case
study describes how, to preserve the company’s
“reputation and competitive stance”, Burson-
Marsteller felt that Kagermann’s “profile had to
be raised significantly” and a “global audience”
reassured that the company would not be thrown
off course (Burson-Marsteller 2006, ¶.3; italics
added).
One of Burson-Marsteller’s key roles
therefore was to “rais[e] Kagermann’s visibility”
(Burson-Marsteller 2006b, ¶.4; italics added).
Burson-Marsteller did this through developing a
strategy and communication plan. This involved
promoting Kagermann through the media, and
strategically positioning him in campaigns,
events, and media opportunities. The case study
claims, as a measure of Kagermann’s and SAP’s
reputational success, that share prices and
financial performance increased; that there was
favourable reporting of Kagermann in the
media—Kagermann was “portrayed as the right
person to lead SAP”; and that his speaking
engagements doubled (Burson-Marsteller
2006b, ¶.15). “Within weeks of his transition,
Kagermann was recognized as a leading
technology CEO in The Economist technology
review” (Burson-Marsteller 2006b, ¶.18; italics
added). In a survey of fund managers by
Institutional Investor, Kagermann “was named
‘one of the most highly regarded CEOs’”
(Burson-Marsteller, 2006b, ¶.18; italics added).
This focus on the visible (as the objective),
underscored by use of impersonal passive
voice—“was recognized”, “regarded”—suggests
the relative insignificance of any responsive,
interpreting subject who might be doing the
“recognising” and the “regarding”. There is no
reference to what Kagermann actually did in his
first 100 days (in terms of operating the
company) to enhance his and SAP’s reputation,
other than engage in the media circus.
Burson-Marsteller is rather an extreme
example. Other public relations consultancies,
such as Edelman Public Relations, for example,
seem to have embraced (at least) the idea that
rhetoric mobilised as dialogue, exchange, and
debate with key stakeholders is crucial in
developing and enhancing a company’s
reputation.
For example, in an article, entitled
“Managing corporate risk and reputation”
Richard Edelman, president and CEO of the
company, comments that:
Today, corporate reputation is
shaped by the interactions between
and among an array of involved
and equally empowered interest
groups—including employees,
regulators, trade partners,
academics, consumer enthusiasts,
investors, NGOs and media.
Corporations now operate in a
6
sphere of cross-influence, where
ideas are continuously exchanged
and subjected to re-examination
(2004, ¶. 11).
This approach—harnessing the idea that
“corporate reputation is shaped by the
interaction between … interest groups”—marks
an important shift from understanding and
treating rhetorical practice as the transmission of
persuasive messages. It shifts to an
understanding and treatment of rhetorical
practice as a complex process of negotiation or
dialogue between (always asymmetrically
positioned) parties. It is therefore also pivotal to
acknowledging the crucial role of readers’
responses in attributing meaning and value to
writers’ texts.
Heath (2000) has recommended the value of
“rhetorical dialogue” and is sensitive to the
ethical implications of rhetoric. (Nonetheless, he
assumes, as L’Etang points out, that ethical
dialogue is realisable within the conventional
paradigm of symmetry (L’Etang, 2006, p. 371).
Such a view does not take account of the
unequal, and often shifting, relations of power
that inevitably exist between communicating
subjects in specific contexts.) Similarly, in their
exploration of the concept of dialogue in public
relations, Kent and Taylor (2002, p. 23) trace
the shift in public relations literature from
symmetry to dialogue, or from an emphasis on
managing communication to communicating in
order to negotiate relationships. As well,
Botan’s (1997) reflections on dialogue come
close to a focus on the relational and ethical
dimensions of communicating through which
reputation might meaningfully be developed.
This focus on dialogic exchange in public
relations scholarship is enhanced if we think of
it in Sobchack’s terms. The texts we, as public
writers and speakers, subjectively value must be
available to others as visible cultural objects, but
not merely as such. Rather, they should call out
to our interlocutors and, in turn, to their capacity
to engage with our texts subjectively as
meaningful and valuable, or at least as worthy
of attention and, perhaps, response. Hence the
importance of the subjective-objective dynamic
to which Sobchack refers and of the ethical
relation which it demands. This, I would argue,
is the far more solid ground on which reputation
might be developed.
I am not sure that we can be confident of
Edelman’s fully embracing the dialogic
approach. Alongside the remark cited above is
Edelman’s quote of an observation by the
former deputy chief of staff to Ronald Reagan
that “effective communication relies on constant
repetition of one or two messages in all kinds of
media” (2004, ¶. 19). Edelman also refers to his
own company’s “Trust Barometer” finding that
“80% of opinion leaders in Europe and the US
are much more likely to believe something that
they hear, see or read in many different sources”
(¶. 20; italics added). It does not seem to matter,
then, whether or not those beliefs are deluded or
formed as a result of deception. Edelman goes
on to note that “in a world of continuous partial
attention, a battery of spokespeople, from the
CEO to credible third parties such as academics
or doctors, should be utilized to achieve
frequency of message delivery” (¶. 21; italics
added).
Edelman (2004) also comments that “The
task of a CEO is to get employees on side by
creating a master narrative that coherently
articulates the company’s vision and ideals.
Progress toward that goal is then reported
regularly to the employees, who become allies
in achieving the mission by propagating the
message to a broader audience” (¶. 24; italics
added). Edelman’s initially avowed
commitment to dialogue and exchange with
stakeholders does seem to be undermined in the
closing words of the article. He remarks that
proper risk management (which, he claims, can
mitigate threats to reputation) “calls for true
involvement in the issues of the day and a
strong voice to assure the company’s interests
are served” (Edelman 2004, ¶. 38; italics
added).
Nike’s visionary approach to reputation
I now turn to the global athletic footwear and
clothing manufacturer company, Nike, for a
brief overview of its Corporate Responsibility
Report FY04 (2005). Here we get a more
encouraging sense of this company’s apparent
shift in its understanding of language, text, and
narrative and, by extension, its means of both
7
engaging with its stakeholders and making itself
visible as a responsible global corporate actor.
This shift might partly be explained by the
Kasky v. Nike lawsuit, which appears to have
had a significant impact on the company’s sense
of its place in and relationship with society
(Surma, 2005, pp. 127–29). As a result of a
public relations campaign run in 1996–7, the
company was sued for false advertising by
North American activist, Marc Kasky. During
the campaign, Nike had circulated media
releases, issued advertorials and sent letters to
newspaper editors, and to university presidents
and athletics directors, claiming employee pay
and working conditions, particularly in South-
East Asia, were no longer exploitative.
Following the drawn-out case, which was not
resolved but concluded by an out-of-court
settlement between Nike and Kasky in 2003,
Nike decided not to issue its corporate
responsibility report for 2002, and decided to
continue “to limit its participation in public
events and media engagement in California”
(Nike, 2003, ¶. 12). Arguably, Nike was left
smarting from the effects of the lawsuit, and
many other organisations also expressed both
their support for Nike’s position and their
dismay at what they regarded as a damaging
brake on corporations’ capacity to freely make
claims about their practices as part of their
engagement in public debate (see Nike, 2003;
Lobe, 2003). However, in a turnaround, a media
release issued by Nike in April 2005 heralded
the publication of the company’s second
corporate responsibility report. At the same
time, the company made available on its
website, for the first time, the names and
locations of its over 700 contract factories
making Nike-branded products around the
world.
This most recent report is quite different,
particularly in a rhetorical sense, from its 2001
predecessor. While it gestured towards an
ethical commitment to its stakeholders, the 2001
report was dominated by a marketing discourse
that objectified Nike’s corporate responsibility
activities rather than objectivated them. It could
be argued that this objectification is precisely
the function of a genre such as a corporate
responsibility report, which arguably aims to
present a self-sufficient account of performance.
However, a corporate responsibility narrative,
unlike the texts of marketing or promotion,
surely has a quite different function, since it
calls out to others for its legitimation.
The 2005 report is different from the earlier
one in three key ways. First, its tone shifts; this
report is far more reflective, more tentative, far
less self-assured, and, it could be argued, also
far less smug than the report of 2001. Second,
its focus shifts. The 2005 report is twice the
length of its predecessor and presents a written
record and detailed discussion of Nike’s
practices in the following key areas: “Company
profile” (Nike, 2005, pp.1–4); “Governance”
(Nike, 2005, pp.5–8); “Management discussion
and strategy” (Nike, 2005 pp.9–14); “Workers
in contract factories” (Nike, 2005, pp.15–48)—
this is now by far the largest section;
“Employees and diversity” (Nike, 2005, pp.49–
55); “Environment” (Nike, 2005, pp.56–73);
“Community” (Nike, 2005, pp.74–82); “Public
policy” (Nike, 2005, pp.83–5); “Challenges and
opportunities” (Nike, 2005, pp.86–9). The
report is also explicitly addressed to the
following identified stakeholders: “members of
the socially responsible investment (SRI)
community, employees, academics, NGO and
advocacy organization leaders and individuals
with an in-depth knowledge of corporate
responsibility” (Nike, 2005, p.9.). (Although
employees are specifically identified as
stakeholders in the report, the report is not
addressed to the workers in the contract
factories on which Nike spends the most space
reporting.) Finally, the report harnesses
metaphors that indicate a shift in orientation in
relation to its use of rhetoric and, by
implication, to key (and particularly less
powerful as well as potentially less trusting)
stakeholders as well. It should be noted too that
nowhere does the report mention the term
‘reputation’, although its writers do remark that
Nike is interested in representing facts rather
than perceptions—a point I shall return to.
However, we can assume Nike must be
interested in reinstating or strengthening
(depending on your point of view) its reputation
as a responsible corporate citizen, given the
notoriety that has surrounded its treatment of
contract workers in the past.
8
I cannot do full justice here to the detail and
range of Nike’s report. Nor do I wish to suggest
that a cursory examination of the use of key
idioms in the report is a sure indication or
reflection of Nike’s changing practices. (In their
discussion of metaphor, idiom and ideology,
Billig and Macmillan (2005) remark that
“structures of metaphorical meaning shape our
understandings but we cease to notice them for
their meanings operate unconsciously. The
effects are ideological and the recovery of
metaphorical meaning then becomes a task of
critical analysis” (pp. 461–2).) However, I do
feel that examination of key idioms is important
in suggesting the possible shift in Nike’s
awareness of its role as a responsible rhetorical
actor on the contemporary social stage. It is
interesting that the report principally makes
repeated use of two types of idiomatic
metaphor: those related to writing and language
and those related to the visual and visual art.
(The Nike report is also interspersed with
artwork commissioned by the company and
produced by young people in inner city Berlin.
They took part in a programme run by
Schlesische 27, “a local organization that uses
art and culture to engage socially disadvantaged
youth” (Nike, 2005, p.1).) This use of combined
metaphor indicates the ways in which our
approach to, and use of, public language can be
understood in relation to our understanding of
public vision and visibility, and the related
notions of perception and reputation. A few
instances of such use explore these ideas a little
further.
In the report’s introductory message, the
company’s retiring Chairman, Phil Knight,
explains that to compensate for Nike’s being
“fairly quiet” for the last 3 years as a result of
the Kasky lawsuit “we’re using this report to
play a little catch-up and [to] draw a more
complete picture” (Nike, 2005, p.2; italics
added). He then shifts to the writing metaphor:
“Over the last decade I’ve seen a number of
chapters written… in the first chapter … the
second chapter began … a third long chapter…
This report taught us that to write the next
chapter we and others involved in this
discussion are going to need to see common
standards emerge and ways to better share
knowledge and learnings created” (Nike, 2005,
p.2; italics added). In the next section, the
‘letter’ from Nike presidents, Mark Parker and
Charlie Denson, remarks that “corporate
responsibility challenges us to take a good hard
look at our business model and understand our
impact on the world around us” (Nike, 2005,
p.5; italics added). They write also that “some of
what we see is concerning … With our
aggressive, ongoing monitoring programs, we
now believe we have a more accurate picture of
where the problems of non-compliance lie”
(Nike, 2005, p.5; italics added). In their remarks
on environmental impact, they comment that
“here too we are gaining a better picture …
Some of what we see is thrilling …” (Nike,
2005, p.5; italics added).
In the third chapter of the report, entitled
“Management discussion and strategy”, the
writers explain that the work for the report
began with understanding “our issues and
impacts” and that this process “is best
undertaken in consultation with others, because
both internal and external stakeholders help us
gain new insights and understand the
perspectives of others” (Nike, 2005, p.10; italics
added). The chapter also explores Nike’s long-
term corporate responsibility goals, including
effecting positive systemic change in working
conditions in the industry. The writers comment
that these goals are “long-term aspirations.
Putting them in writing should not suggest we
are close to accomplishing them; it instead
shows how far we must travel” (Nike, 2005,
p.10; italics added). Later in the chapter, the
benefits of stakeholder engagement are
declared: “they help us to prioritize key issues
and develop and implement our CR policies.
We’ve learned a great deal from this interaction.
Non-governmental organizations (NGOs), trade
unions and others have opened our eyes to new
issues and viewpoints” (Nike, 2005, p.11; italics
added). In the fourth chapter, “Workers in
contract factories”, under the section
“Performance”, comes the comment, “Writing
this report has been a process of introspection. It
has also been a process of internal
transformation that led us to the decision to
disclose our factory base” (Nike, 2005, p.33;
italics added).
From the brief extracts above, we get a sense
of how Nike, as the nominal corporate author of
9
this report, now at least appears to understand
and value language differently, recognising it as
a symbolic system that, as Mackey argues,
“constantly constructs the world which we see”
(Mackey, 2005, p. 6). We also get a sense of
Nike’s explicitly self-conscious use of language
as a process of objectivating. The company
writes chapters in its corporate story. It produces
a sequential narrative, at the same time as it
understands the tentative status of the chapters it
develops and presents—“it …shows how far we
must travel”—given that those chapters are to
be read, interpreted and evaluated by others. The
process of realising itself as an object for self-
scrutiny (“a good hard look”; “a process of
introspection”) as well as for scrutiny by others
is useful for any company interested, as Nike
here purports to be, in determining its impacts
on the contexts in which it operates and wields
material influence. As well, the process of
directly acknowledging the subjectivity of
others, such as NGOs and trade unions, and
their capacity to see, and to write the company
in their own ways, as well as to help Nike see
itself differently (“have opened our eyes” to new
“perspectives” and “viewpoints”) seems to
underline the company’s acknowledgment that
there are more important aims than simply being
visible. Alternatively, and to repeat Sobchack’s
words, there are more important (and
sustainable) aims than being “an objective and
perceptual product” (2004, p. 179; italics in
original).
Nevertheless, and perhaps this is precisely
why Nike steers clear of mentioning its interest
in strengthening its reputation, the company’s
report also alternates this objectivating stance
with an objectifying stance, in its emphasis on
transparency—a term used repeatedly
throughout the report. (For a thorough and
thoughtful discussion of transparency,
particularly from a relational perspective on
public relations, see J ahansoozi, 2006.) Here are
just a couple of examples of Nike’s emphasis on
transparency. In an early section of the report,
under “Reasons for reporting”, the writers
declare that “transparency is an essential
element of our corporate responsibility strategy
… We want to build trust and enable
stakeholders to judge us not on perception but
fact. Transparency is an essential tool in this
process” (Nike, 2005, p.9; italics added). In
chapter nine, “Challenges and opportunities”:
“Transparency isn’t really a dilemma for us.
We’re very clear about it: We believe in it,
know its value and understand its importance.
But it is a risk. And an opportunity” (Nike,
2005, p.89; italics added). In this apparently
contradictory move, then, the company implies
a view of language as an instrumental conduit to
an objective and objectifiable ‘reality’. Of
course, this move to embrace transparency is for
the most part completely understandable and
commendable. In the last few years, as a
consequence of the shocking revelations about
criminal activities by directors of major
companies (such as HIH, Enron and One.Tel),
transparency is not just a trendy buzzword but
represents corporations’ and organisations’
active response to public outrage at such
activities. Nike’s current report is packed with
lengthy descriptions, detailed tables, pie charts,
and a range of statistics, measurements, and
quantitative evaluations of its socially
responsible business practices, all designed to
demonstrate the company’s commitment to
disclosure and transparency. But, like rhetoric, a
company’s practices, behaviours, processes,
events and so on are never simply ‘clear’. In
other words you can’t see through them (which
implies knowing and understanding them
completely, objectively). Brute facts and
figures, as objectively visible demonstrations of
transparency, while presenting one version of
usually very complex stories, cannot elide or
eliminate the significance of subjective,
embodied—that is to say, human—
understandings of them (see Sobchack, 2004,
pp. 179–204). Von Furstenberg (2001),
provides a persuasive critique of any over-
enthusiastic embrace of transparency as an
objective ‘public good’. He argues, rather, that
questions of and demands for transparency are
inevitably bound up with specific relations of
power, in particular social, financial, and
political contexts. Nevertheless, it seems that,
despite its complaint about the risks of
transparency and its commitment to “more and
better transparency” (Nike, 2005, p.89), Nike
appears at least to be starting to understand the
necessary, ethical limits on its capacity to
control the perceptions of its stakeholders, and
10
by extension its own reputation, particularly in
its approach to and practices of rhetoric.
Conclusion
We live in a culture overwhelmed by text,
language, and rhetoric. We are constantly
confronted with attempts on behalf of
organisations, corporations, institutions,
political parties, special interest groups, and
lobby groups, to gain our attention and influence
our perceptions. Too often this rhetorical
bombardment, or it might even be called
propaganda (see Moloney, 2004), feels as
though there are words, words to be seen, words
visible everywhere, but too few which directly
address us, engage us, and sustain us. Mostly
their effect is to silence and alienate us. So what
is it that might make a difference? I have tried to
argue here that rhetoric must matter in public
communication practices in general and in
public relations activities in particular. This will
involve a necessary shift by public relations
professionals from conceiving of language as
simply image or objective product. It will
involve acknowledging the centrality of the
dialogic rhetorical practices that help forge a
relationship between an organisation and its
various stakeholders, and help to define an
organisation’s ethical stance. Using rhetoric to
engage and influence stakeholders is one thing.
Believing that rhetoric can ‘do the work’ of
manufacturing and managing reputation,
abstracted from the real activities and interests
of those people who produce it, on the one hand,
and from those people who interpret and make
meaning from it, on the other, is cynical or
short-sighted or both.
As I have suggested, however, I am
encouraged by a company such as Nike, which
now appears to understand that using language
for the sake of mere (and more) visibility is not
enough. It is rather the language of vision, one
that takes account of the perceiving human
subjects (the readers and the writers, the
listeners and the speakers), that may persuade
publics to read or to listen, and perhaps even to
try and get a word in themselves.
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12
Address for correspondence
Anne Surma
School of Social Sciences and Humanities
Murdoch University
Perth
Western Australia.
[email protected]
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work, to provide this article to you in open
access format. This means that, in accordance
with the Budapest Open Access Initiative,
(http://www.soros.org/openaccess/) you may
freely copy and redistribute this article provided
you correctly acknowledge its authorship and
source, and do not alter its contents.
doc_494613518.pdf
This paper offers a critique of conventional approaches to so-called ‘reputation management’: the business function concerned with influencing, often through diverse communication practices, stakeholders’ perceptions and estimation of an organisation’s economic and social practices.
Surma, A. (2006). The rhetoric of reputation: Vision not visibility. PRism 4(1):http://praxis.massey.ac.nz/prism_on-line_journ.html
The Rhetoric of Reputation: Vision not Visibility
Anne Surma
Murdoch University
Abstract
This paper offers a critique of conventional
approaches to so-called ‘reputation
management’: the business function concerned
with influencing, often through diverse
communication practices, stakeholders’
perceptions and estimation of an organisation’s
economic and social practices. Reputation is
frequently described and valued (from
management as well as from conventional
public relations perspectives) in terms of an
organisation’s visibility: its capacity to be seen
to be (doing) good through various textual
media including corporate responsibility
reports, speeches and presentations, news
media reports, and so on. Hence there is a
significant connection between rhetorical
practices and reputation management. Drawing
on cultural theorist Vivian Sobchack’s (2004)
work, I suggest that textual rhetoric can and
should be more than a form of visibility. Rather,
it can also be a crucial form of social and
ethical practice, the meaning and value of which
are dialogically negotiated by organisations
and stakeholders. To this end, I argue that texts
cannot simply manufacture or reflect reputation.
Like language, reputation is not an objective
entity, but is envisioned by ongoing practices
and their negotiated and subjective evaluation
by an organisation and its stakeholders. I draw
on selected texts (including Nike’s most recent
corporate responsibility report) to support the
discussion.
1
1
An earlier version of this article was delivered as a
seminar paper at the Centre for Public Communication
Research at Bournemouth University, England, in J une
2005. Dr Surma’s work on Sobchack and objectivating will
also appear, but in a different context, in Surma
(forthcoming).
Introduction
An organisation builds or establishes its
reputation. It earns and may (or may not)
deserve its reputation. It may work to sustain or
maintain its reputation. However, it may also
lose—temporarily or irretrievably—its
reputation. These active, idiomatic verb forms
signal the agency of the organisation as subject
in relation to its reputation status. Interestingly,
however, this is a clear, linguistically marked,
instance where agency is only possible when
accounted for by an other or others. An
organisation’s reputation depends on what
others think about it (the term reputation comes
from the Latin reputare, to think over). More
importantly, for an organisation to be defined by
its reputation is for it to be defined according to
an individual or group’s judgment of its
trustworthiness and its integrity—that is,
according to its judged capacity to act ethically
and responsibly in all its interactions and
practices. This point is crucial to this paper,
notwithstanding that some theorists argue that
corporate reputation is made up of ‘six major
facets’ (not all of them relating, or not at least
directly, to ethics and responsibility). Lewis
suggests the facets are financial performance,
treatment of staff, environmental responsibility,
social responsibility, leadership, and quality of
products/services (Lewis, 2003, p. 362). Harris
Interactive and Dr Charles Fombrun, director
executive of the Reputation Institute have
designed a ‘Reputation Quotient’ (RQ), “an
assessment tool that captures perceptions of
corporate reputations across industries, among
multiple audiences, and is adaptable to countries
outside the United States”, which uses six
similar dimensions of reputation: products and
services, financial performance, workplace
2
environment, social responsibility, vision and
leadership, and emotional appeal (Harris
Interactive, 2006, ¶.6).
By contrast, in this paper I focus specifically
on reputation in relation to notions of ethics and
responsibility, and emphasise stakeholders’
active roles in enabling an organisation to be
defined as reputable (or disreputable). As a
consequence, I share the view of Hutton,
Goodman, Alexander and Genest that an
organisation “attempting to manage [its]
reputation might be likened to [one] trying to
manage [its] own popularity (a rather awkward,
superficial and potentially self-defeating
endeavour)” (2001, p. 249). In this paper, when
I write of reputation, the significant connection
between rhetorical practice and reputation
becomes clear. Details or accounts of a
company’s specific social, economic,
environmental and other activities are not
necessarily directly experienced by its
stakeholders; in fact, more often than not they
are communicated to them by the company
itself or by various third parties. The role of
communication, and particularly of oral and
written language, in the forging or modifying of
a company’s reputation is therefore pivotal.
Thus, I reconceive reputation as the verbal
expression of a perspective developed and
articulated through (direct or indirect)
communicative processes between an
organisation and its stakeholders. In this
account, reputation is understood as a discursive
or textual perception of ethical (or unethical),
responsible (or irresponsible) action relating to
social, environmental and economic concerns.
This status, which is always modifiable, results
from various direct or indirect exchanges
between organisations and stakeholders. Given
this focus, the preoccupations of the literature
concerned with image management, impression
management and identity management in
relation to reputation are not germane to this
paper’s enquiry, though a great deal of research
dealing with that nexus has been undertaken
(see, for example, Allen & Caillouet, 1994;
Fombrum, 1996; Van den Bosch, De J ong, &
Elving, 2005; Carter, 2006. See also Pruzan,
2001, for discussion of the pragmatic
perspective on and approach to corporate
reputation).
Typically, and as we will see illustrated
below, reputation is today described and valued
(from management as well as from conventional
public relations perspectives) in terms of an
organisation’s visibility: its capacity to be seen
to be (doing) good through various textual
media including corporate responsibility reports,
speeches and presentations, news media reports,
and so on. Sobchack’s (2004) work suggests
that our image-centric Western culture—one
obsessed with visibility—has obscured the
vitally dualistic nature (the equally significant
subjective and objective dimensions) of human
existence. Sobchack’s work is useful in helping
rearticulate the view that textual rhetoric is a
crucial form of social and ethical practice, the
meaning and value of which are negotiated by
writers and readers, speakers and listeners. This
view is not new, of course. Porter (1998, pp.
33–41) directs us to the concerns of classical
scholars Aristotle and Cicero with the
relationship between rhetoric and ethics. Such
concerns have been refined and developed in
both the new rhetoric (particularly in the work
of Kenneth Burke (1969, 1970)), and in
postmodern accounts of rhetoric as writing (see,
for example, Porter, 1998; Berlin, 2003; Katz,
2003; Surma, 2005). Given this understanding
of rhetoric, I show that texts cannot simply
manufacture or reflect reputation. Like
language, reputation is not an objective entity,
but is constructed by ongoing practices and their
various and variable evaluations by
organisations and their stakeholders (see Surma,
2005, pp. 23–35).
Through brief reference to selected high-
profile current approaches to reputation
management, and through a necessarily cursory
examination of Nike’s most recent corporate
social responsibility (CSR) initiative as a more
encouraging instance of corporate rhetoric
which embodies reputation sensitivity in action,
I illustrate the failure by many public relations
professionals to acknowledge the ethical
dimension of language. Moreover, I
demonstrate that there is, in fact, a failure to
acknowledge the significance of language at all,
except in terms of its function as an instrumental
commodity that provides deliverable ‘messages’
or ‘communications’. Thus, such rhetorical
efforts to develop and strengthen reputation
3
(and, by extension, trust and credibility) are
both misguided and destined to fall short.
Without an understanding of language as having
the potential to connect writers with readers or
speakers with listeners in a dynamic moral
relationship, public communication risks being
derided as hollow rhetoric, as corporate speak,
as shallow spin, as dead language. In other
words, the efforts to ‘manage’ reputation
through communication activities primarily
interested in establishing or sustaining
reputation through cultivation of a favourable
image are superficial and inadequate, as well as
arguably unethical.
Vision and visibility: Vivian Sobchack,
culture and language
Language and specifically textual rhetoric
may be treated as a potential instance of
objectivation, a process (according to Berger &
Pullberg, 1965) “whereby human subjectivity
embodies itself in products that are available to
oneself and one’s fellow men [sic] as elements
of a common world” ( p. 199; italics in original).
Vivian Sobchack is a cultural theorist whose
writing frequently focuses on film and on
questions of the experience of the lived body
and its representations through various media
(Sobchack, 2004; see also Surma, forthcoming).
Most helpful to this paper is her harnessing of
Berger and Pullberg’s ideas about objectivation
to her work on the dialectical processes of the
body in culture and her discussion of the
contemporary lived body’s pivotal (but now
threatened) role in making meaning—ethical
and aesthetic meaning—in contemporary
culture. These ideas help rearticulate and
reinforce the importance of public language in
general, and the ways in which public relations
texts negotiate questions of reputation in
particular.
Sobchack’s interest is in the inevitable and
potentially creative tension between the
experience of the lived human body and the
body as a cultural object. In relation to her
discussion of the body in contemporary culture,
Sobchack distinguishes between the body that
sees: that is, vision, as “a subjective capacity
and perceptual activity”, and the body which is
seen: that is, visibility, as “an objective and
perceptual product” (2004, p. 179). Sobchack
argues that in western culture our potential for
perception, for vision—for seeing as “personal
subjects of vision” and “social objects for
vision” (2004, p. 181; italics in original)—has
been largely reduced to visibility (being seen).
She claims that our image-centric culture has
“qualified and transformed the essential
structures that constitute the duality of our
subjective and objective modalities of being as
necessarily objectivating—that is open,
noncoincident and intersubjective—into merely
sufficient and reductive structures of
objectification and reification” (2004, pp.181–2;
italics in original). In other words, Sobchack is
suggesting that our image-centric culture has
obscured the vitally dualistic nature—the
equally significant subjective and objective
dimensions—of our human existence. As a
consequence, the body becomes objectified,
reduced to the status of an object, a ‘thing’. It is
thus denied its full human potential as a feeling
and thinking subject with the capacity to
represent itself to others and to relate to others
as distinct subjective identities in the world.
So why and how, exactly, is Sobchack’s
argument relevant to this discussion? It is my
contention that there are at least three significant
problems with much contemporary language use
in public, each of which reduces its use to a
process of objectifying (rather than
objectivating). First is the regular political and
corporate refusal to admit the human into
language and language exchange in writing
practice. We see instances of this in the
obsessive and ubiquitous managerial/marketing
language of ‘structures’, ‘systems’, ‘resources’,
‘markets’, ‘models’, ‘deliverables’, and so on,
or simply where language seems to be largely
writer-oriented and self-referential rather than
directed towards the other. Second is the use of
so-called ‘hollow rhetoric’, that is, language
claims unmatched by the social practices they
describe. This is to abuse language, treating it as
if it neither matters nor is material and vitally
connected to the lives, activities, and meanings
it claims to represent, but as if it were empty
space, as ‘hollow’. Third is forgetting that
language, once spoken and/or written is for the
other to interpret (just as our actions once
committed are there to be judged not only by
4
ourselves but by others). Our intentional use of
language by no means guarantees its meanings
for and uses by others. In fact, I would argue
that it is our responsibility to allow others to use
our language (rhetoric as matter) otherwise, to
understand our language from the places, the
bodies of others. When we use language to
objectify rather than objectivate, we sever
connections with others, and we risk, as a
consequence, denying our human, ethical
relationship with them.
Against these approaches to and uses of
language, then, my interest is in public relations
texts as living, dialogic texts on the one hand
and as culturally visible objects on the other.
Texts are developed and circulated by
organisations and corporations to represent who
they are, what they do, and how they do it. This
function for texts has become increasingly
important, as the demand that organisations
make their practices available for public
scrutiny grows. These texts might be media
releases, CSR reports, annual reports, company
profiles, web sites, or email exchanges. They
may take the form of CEO speeches, community
forums, mail bombs to employees, and so on. Of
course, these verbal texts are not human bodies:
they do not think, breathe, or feel as humans do.
But my view is that we would be wise to treat
our texts as rhetorical matter/bodies gesturing
towards our humanness, and as appealing to the
humanness of others. For unless we understand
texts as rhetorical, they will fail to call to others,
and thus fail to help forge meaningful and
ethical relations, that is to say, relations of
responsibility. This account once again,
therefore, reasserts the importance of rhetoric as
a social process. It also highlights the idea that
the world we produce through language must, as
Berger and Pullberg also declare, “be confirmed
and re-confirmed by others” (Berger &
Pullberg, 1965, p. 201).
Most contemporary powerful public
relations, despite its apparent embracing of a
values-based approach which is interested in
communicating an organisation’s “reputation or
practical goodness” (Richards, 2004, p. 173),
attempts to veil the practice of rhetoric as a
social process. It does so in suggesting, by its
use of rhetoric, that the world it creates through
language represents a set of immutable truths.
This effort aims to objectify language: to
disconnect it from its producer as subject
(through a strategy of self-displacement) and to
disconnect it from others, who are thereby
apparently designated no role except to accept
or spectate. In other words, the capacity for
connection to others through language is
impoverished.
So let us explore now some instances of how
public relations writers view language. Is
language regarded as subject of vision, and for
vision, and as a means of communicating with
and relating to others in broad or general terms?
Or is it regarded merely as visibility (language
not for the other or with the other or towards the
other, but simply to be seen by the other)? This
exploration of language use also suggests, by
extension, how public relations writers and the
organisations they represent perceive, define
and approach the notion of reputation—of how
they are regarded by their diverse publics—and
how to ‘manage’ it.
Reputation and visibility
My interest in reputation in this section of the
paper is specifically in how public relations
writers (and the clients they represent) appear to
understand the ways their various publics
develop perceptions about them. A brief look at
two of the world’s most prominent public
relations companies’ approaches to reputation
management will illustrate conventional
industry esteem of and faith in reputation as a
visible product (or objective entity) to be
manufactured and promoted. Reputation in these
examples is rarely treated as a process of
objectivating. Such treatment would involve
articulating a language that simultaneously
acknowledges rhetoric’s subjective and
objective dimensions: in other words, rhetoric
that emphasises its vital connection with the
embodied actions and practices of its speaker-
writer subjects, at the same time as it presents
those actions as rhetorical objects for others to
interpret and respond to as informed and
discriminating subjects. However, far more
often, rhetoric circulated in the public space is
developed as an object of perception.
On Burson-Marsteller’s—reputedly the
world’s largest public relations firm—web site
5
there is a page dedicated to its expertise in
reputation management, and a link is provided
to a relevant case study. The use of language in
the firm’s introductory comments on reputation
management is revelatory:
J ust like any tangible asset,
corporate brands and reputations
must be managed, and getting the
right advice, counsel and tools, to
help you develop proactive
strategies or navigate major crises
is essential. Understanding how
your organization is perceived,
integrating best practices and
leveraging your CEO are just a
few of the things you need to get
started (Burson-Marsteller, 2006a,
¶.3).
The case study used as a showcase sample of
Burson-Marsteller’s reputation management
describes how SAP—a major German company
specialising in business technology solutions—
made a transition, in 2003, from joint to sole
CEO status under Burson-Marsteller’s direction:
Burson-Marsteller was retained to:
ensure a smooth transition from
two CEOs to one, raising
Kagermann's visibility globally,
while maintaining Plattner's
legacy; raise awareness of
strengths of entire top management
team, demonstrating stability and
depth; and, establish Kagermann's
leadership agenda and vision for
SAP during his critical first 100
days as sole CEO (Burson-
Marsteller, 2006b, ¶.4).
Henning Kagermann (the more serious,
“cerebral” CEO of the duo) was being prepared
to take sole control of the company. The case
study describes how, to preserve the company’s
“reputation and competitive stance”, Burson-
Marsteller felt that Kagermann’s “profile had to
be raised significantly” and a “global audience”
reassured that the company would not be thrown
off course (Burson-Marsteller 2006, ¶.3; italics
added).
One of Burson-Marsteller’s key roles
therefore was to “rais[e] Kagermann’s visibility”
(Burson-Marsteller 2006b, ¶.4; italics added).
Burson-Marsteller did this through developing a
strategy and communication plan. This involved
promoting Kagermann through the media, and
strategically positioning him in campaigns,
events, and media opportunities. The case study
claims, as a measure of Kagermann’s and SAP’s
reputational success, that share prices and
financial performance increased; that there was
favourable reporting of Kagermann in the
media—Kagermann was “portrayed as the right
person to lead SAP”; and that his speaking
engagements doubled (Burson-Marsteller
2006b, ¶.15). “Within weeks of his transition,
Kagermann was recognized as a leading
technology CEO in The Economist technology
review” (Burson-Marsteller 2006b, ¶.18; italics
added). In a survey of fund managers by
Institutional Investor, Kagermann “was named
‘one of the most highly regarded CEOs’”
(Burson-Marsteller, 2006b, ¶.18; italics added).
This focus on the visible (as the objective),
underscored by use of impersonal passive
voice—“was recognized”, “regarded”—suggests
the relative insignificance of any responsive,
interpreting subject who might be doing the
“recognising” and the “regarding”. There is no
reference to what Kagermann actually did in his
first 100 days (in terms of operating the
company) to enhance his and SAP’s reputation,
other than engage in the media circus.
Burson-Marsteller is rather an extreme
example. Other public relations consultancies,
such as Edelman Public Relations, for example,
seem to have embraced (at least) the idea that
rhetoric mobilised as dialogue, exchange, and
debate with key stakeholders is crucial in
developing and enhancing a company’s
reputation.
For example, in an article, entitled
“Managing corporate risk and reputation”
Richard Edelman, president and CEO of the
company, comments that:
Today, corporate reputation is
shaped by the interactions between
and among an array of involved
and equally empowered interest
groups—including employees,
regulators, trade partners,
academics, consumer enthusiasts,
investors, NGOs and media.
Corporations now operate in a
6
sphere of cross-influence, where
ideas are continuously exchanged
and subjected to re-examination
(2004, ¶. 11).
This approach—harnessing the idea that
“corporate reputation is shaped by the
interaction between … interest groups”—marks
an important shift from understanding and
treating rhetorical practice as the transmission of
persuasive messages. It shifts to an
understanding and treatment of rhetorical
practice as a complex process of negotiation or
dialogue between (always asymmetrically
positioned) parties. It is therefore also pivotal to
acknowledging the crucial role of readers’
responses in attributing meaning and value to
writers’ texts.
Heath (2000) has recommended the value of
“rhetorical dialogue” and is sensitive to the
ethical implications of rhetoric. (Nonetheless, he
assumes, as L’Etang points out, that ethical
dialogue is realisable within the conventional
paradigm of symmetry (L’Etang, 2006, p. 371).
Such a view does not take account of the
unequal, and often shifting, relations of power
that inevitably exist between communicating
subjects in specific contexts.) Similarly, in their
exploration of the concept of dialogue in public
relations, Kent and Taylor (2002, p. 23) trace
the shift in public relations literature from
symmetry to dialogue, or from an emphasis on
managing communication to communicating in
order to negotiate relationships. As well,
Botan’s (1997) reflections on dialogue come
close to a focus on the relational and ethical
dimensions of communicating through which
reputation might meaningfully be developed.
This focus on dialogic exchange in public
relations scholarship is enhanced if we think of
it in Sobchack’s terms. The texts we, as public
writers and speakers, subjectively value must be
available to others as visible cultural objects, but
not merely as such. Rather, they should call out
to our interlocutors and, in turn, to their capacity
to engage with our texts subjectively as
meaningful and valuable, or at least as worthy
of attention and, perhaps, response. Hence the
importance of the subjective-objective dynamic
to which Sobchack refers and of the ethical
relation which it demands. This, I would argue,
is the far more solid ground on which reputation
might be developed.
I am not sure that we can be confident of
Edelman’s fully embracing the dialogic
approach. Alongside the remark cited above is
Edelman’s quote of an observation by the
former deputy chief of staff to Ronald Reagan
that “effective communication relies on constant
repetition of one or two messages in all kinds of
media” (2004, ¶. 19). Edelman also refers to his
own company’s “Trust Barometer” finding that
“80% of opinion leaders in Europe and the US
are much more likely to believe something that
they hear, see or read in many different sources”
(¶. 20; italics added). It does not seem to matter,
then, whether or not those beliefs are deluded or
formed as a result of deception. Edelman goes
on to note that “in a world of continuous partial
attention, a battery of spokespeople, from the
CEO to credible third parties such as academics
or doctors, should be utilized to achieve
frequency of message delivery” (¶. 21; italics
added).
Edelman (2004) also comments that “The
task of a CEO is to get employees on side by
creating a master narrative that coherently
articulates the company’s vision and ideals.
Progress toward that goal is then reported
regularly to the employees, who become allies
in achieving the mission by propagating the
message to a broader audience” (¶. 24; italics
added). Edelman’s initially avowed
commitment to dialogue and exchange with
stakeholders does seem to be undermined in the
closing words of the article. He remarks that
proper risk management (which, he claims, can
mitigate threats to reputation) “calls for true
involvement in the issues of the day and a
strong voice to assure the company’s interests
are served” (Edelman 2004, ¶. 38; italics
added).
Nike’s visionary approach to reputation
I now turn to the global athletic footwear and
clothing manufacturer company, Nike, for a
brief overview of its Corporate Responsibility
Report FY04 (2005). Here we get a more
encouraging sense of this company’s apparent
shift in its understanding of language, text, and
narrative and, by extension, its means of both
7
engaging with its stakeholders and making itself
visible as a responsible global corporate actor.
This shift might partly be explained by the
Kasky v. Nike lawsuit, which appears to have
had a significant impact on the company’s sense
of its place in and relationship with society
(Surma, 2005, pp. 127–29). As a result of a
public relations campaign run in 1996–7, the
company was sued for false advertising by
North American activist, Marc Kasky. During
the campaign, Nike had circulated media
releases, issued advertorials and sent letters to
newspaper editors, and to university presidents
and athletics directors, claiming employee pay
and working conditions, particularly in South-
East Asia, were no longer exploitative.
Following the drawn-out case, which was not
resolved but concluded by an out-of-court
settlement between Nike and Kasky in 2003,
Nike decided not to issue its corporate
responsibility report for 2002, and decided to
continue “to limit its participation in public
events and media engagement in California”
(Nike, 2003, ¶. 12). Arguably, Nike was left
smarting from the effects of the lawsuit, and
many other organisations also expressed both
their support for Nike’s position and their
dismay at what they regarded as a damaging
brake on corporations’ capacity to freely make
claims about their practices as part of their
engagement in public debate (see Nike, 2003;
Lobe, 2003). However, in a turnaround, a media
release issued by Nike in April 2005 heralded
the publication of the company’s second
corporate responsibility report. At the same
time, the company made available on its
website, for the first time, the names and
locations of its over 700 contract factories
making Nike-branded products around the
world.
This most recent report is quite different,
particularly in a rhetorical sense, from its 2001
predecessor. While it gestured towards an
ethical commitment to its stakeholders, the 2001
report was dominated by a marketing discourse
that objectified Nike’s corporate responsibility
activities rather than objectivated them. It could
be argued that this objectification is precisely
the function of a genre such as a corporate
responsibility report, which arguably aims to
present a self-sufficient account of performance.
However, a corporate responsibility narrative,
unlike the texts of marketing or promotion,
surely has a quite different function, since it
calls out to others for its legitimation.
The 2005 report is different from the earlier
one in three key ways. First, its tone shifts; this
report is far more reflective, more tentative, far
less self-assured, and, it could be argued, also
far less smug than the report of 2001. Second,
its focus shifts. The 2005 report is twice the
length of its predecessor and presents a written
record and detailed discussion of Nike’s
practices in the following key areas: “Company
profile” (Nike, 2005, pp.1–4); “Governance”
(Nike, 2005, pp.5–8); “Management discussion
and strategy” (Nike, 2005 pp.9–14); “Workers
in contract factories” (Nike, 2005, pp.15–48)—
this is now by far the largest section;
“Employees and diversity” (Nike, 2005, pp.49–
55); “Environment” (Nike, 2005, pp.56–73);
“Community” (Nike, 2005, pp.74–82); “Public
policy” (Nike, 2005, pp.83–5); “Challenges and
opportunities” (Nike, 2005, pp.86–9). The
report is also explicitly addressed to the
following identified stakeholders: “members of
the socially responsible investment (SRI)
community, employees, academics, NGO and
advocacy organization leaders and individuals
with an in-depth knowledge of corporate
responsibility” (Nike, 2005, p.9.). (Although
employees are specifically identified as
stakeholders in the report, the report is not
addressed to the workers in the contract
factories on which Nike spends the most space
reporting.) Finally, the report harnesses
metaphors that indicate a shift in orientation in
relation to its use of rhetoric and, by
implication, to key (and particularly less
powerful as well as potentially less trusting)
stakeholders as well. It should be noted too that
nowhere does the report mention the term
‘reputation’, although its writers do remark that
Nike is interested in representing facts rather
than perceptions—a point I shall return to.
However, we can assume Nike must be
interested in reinstating or strengthening
(depending on your point of view) its reputation
as a responsible corporate citizen, given the
notoriety that has surrounded its treatment of
contract workers in the past.
8
I cannot do full justice here to the detail and
range of Nike’s report. Nor do I wish to suggest
that a cursory examination of the use of key
idioms in the report is a sure indication or
reflection of Nike’s changing practices. (In their
discussion of metaphor, idiom and ideology,
Billig and Macmillan (2005) remark that
“structures of metaphorical meaning shape our
understandings but we cease to notice them for
their meanings operate unconsciously. The
effects are ideological and the recovery of
metaphorical meaning then becomes a task of
critical analysis” (pp. 461–2).) However, I do
feel that examination of key idioms is important
in suggesting the possible shift in Nike’s
awareness of its role as a responsible rhetorical
actor on the contemporary social stage. It is
interesting that the report principally makes
repeated use of two types of idiomatic
metaphor: those related to writing and language
and those related to the visual and visual art.
(The Nike report is also interspersed with
artwork commissioned by the company and
produced by young people in inner city Berlin.
They took part in a programme run by
Schlesische 27, “a local organization that uses
art and culture to engage socially disadvantaged
youth” (Nike, 2005, p.1).) This use of combined
metaphor indicates the ways in which our
approach to, and use of, public language can be
understood in relation to our understanding of
public vision and visibility, and the related
notions of perception and reputation. A few
instances of such use explore these ideas a little
further.
In the report’s introductory message, the
company’s retiring Chairman, Phil Knight,
explains that to compensate for Nike’s being
“fairly quiet” for the last 3 years as a result of
the Kasky lawsuit “we’re using this report to
play a little catch-up and [to] draw a more
complete picture” (Nike, 2005, p.2; italics
added). He then shifts to the writing metaphor:
“Over the last decade I’ve seen a number of
chapters written… in the first chapter … the
second chapter began … a third long chapter…
This report taught us that to write the next
chapter we and others involved in this
discussion are going to need to see common
standards emerge and ways to better share
knowledge and learnings created” (Nike, 2005,
p.2; italics added). In the next section, the
‘letter’ from Nike presidents, Mark Parker and
Charlie Denson, remarks that “corporate
responsibility challenges us to take a good hard
look at our business model and understand our
impact on the world around us” (Nike, 2005,
p.5; italics added). They write also that “some of
what we see is concerning … With our
aggressive, ongoing monitoring programs, we
now believe we have a more accurate picture of
where the problems of non-compliance lie”
(Nike, 2005, p.5; italics added). In their remarks
on environmental impact, they comment that
“here too we are gaining a better picture …
Some of what we see is thrilling …” (Nike,
2005, p.5; italics added).
In the third chapter of the report, entitled
“Management discussion and strategy”, the
writers explain that the work for the report
began with understanding “our issues and
impacts” and that this process “is best
undertaken in consultation with others, because
both internal and external stakeholders help us
gain new insights and understand the
perspectives of others” (Nike, 2005, p.10; italics
added). The chapter also explores Nike’s long-
term corporate responsibility goals, including
effecting positive systemic change in working
conditions in the industry. The writers comment
that these goals are “long-term aspirations.
Putting them in writing should not suggest we
are close to accomplishing them; it instead
shows how far we must travel” (Nike, 2005,
p.10; italics added). Later in the chapter, the
benefits of stakeholder engagement are
declared: “they help us to prioritize key issues
and develop and implement our CR policies.
We’ve learned a great deal from this interaction.
Non-governmental organizations (NGOs), trade
unions and others have opened our eyes to new
issues and viewpoints” (Nike, 2005, p.11; italics
added). In the fourth chapter, “Workers in
contract factories”, under the section
“Performance”, comes the comment, “Writing
this report has been a process of introspection. It
has also been a process of internal
transformation that led us to the decision to
disclose our factory base” (Nike, 2005, p.33;
italics added).
From the brief extracts above, we get a sense
of how Nike, as the nominal corporate author of
9
this report, now at least appears to understand
and value language differently, recognising it as
a symbolic system that, as Mackey argues,
“constantly constructs the world which we see”
(Mackey, 2005, p. 6). We also get a sense of
Nike’s explicitly self-conscious use of language
as a process of objectivating. The company
writes chapters in its corporate story. It produces
a sequential narrative, at the same time as it
understands the tentative status of the chapters it
develops and presents—“it …shows how far we
must travel”—given that those chapters are to
be read, interpreted and evaluated by others. The
process of realising itself as an object for self-
scrutiny (“a good hard look”; “a process of
introspection”) as well as for scrutiny by others
is useful for any company interested, as Nike
here purports to be, in determining its impacts
on the contexts in which it operates and wields
material influence. As well, the process of
directly acknowledging the subjectivity of
others, such as NGOs and trade unions, and
their capacity to see, and to write the company
in their own ways, as well as to help Nike see
itself differently (“have opened our eyes” to new
“perspectives” and “viewpoints”) seems to
underline the company’s acknowledgment that
there are more important aims than simply being
visible. Alternatively, and to repeat Sobchack’s
words, there are more important (and
sustainable) aims than being “an objective and
perceptual product” (2004, p. 179; italics in
original).
Nevertheless, and perhaps this is precisely
why Nike steers clear of mentioning its interest
in strengthening its reputation, the company’s
report also alternates this objectivating stance
with an objectifying stance, in its emphasis on
transparency—a term used repeatedly
throughout the report. (For a thorough and
thoughtful discussion of transparency,
particularly from a relational perspective on
public relations, see J ahansoozi, 2006.) Here are
just a couple of examples of Nike’s emphasis on
transparency. In an early section of the report,
under “Reasons for reporting”, the writers
declare that “transparency is an essential
element of our corporate responsibility strategy
… We want to build trust and enable
stakeholders to judge us not on perception but
fact. Transparency is an essential tool in this
process” (Nike, 2005, p.9; italics added). In
chapter nine, “Challenges and opportunities”:
“Transparency isn’t really a dilemma for us.
We’re very clear about it: We believe in it,
know its value and understand its importance.
But it is a risk. And an opportunity” (Nike,
2005, p.89; italics added). In this apparently
contradictory move, then, the company implies
a view of language as an instrumental conduit to
an objective and objectifiable ‘reality’. Of
course, this move to embrace transparency is for
the most part completely understandable and
commendable. In the last few years, as a
consequence of the shocking revelations about
criminal activities by directors of major
companies (such as HIH, Enron and One.Tel),
transparency is not just a trendy buzzword but
represents corporations’ and organisations’
active response to public outrage at such
activities. Nike’s current report is packed with
lengthy descriptions, detailed tables, pie charts,
and a range of statistics, measurements, and
quantitative evaluations of its socially
responsible business practices, all designed to
demonstrate the company’s commitment to
disclosure and transparency. But, like rhetoric, a
company’s practices, behaviours, processes,
events and so on are never simply ‘clear’. In
other words you can’t see through them (which
implies knowing and understanding them
completely, objectively). Brute facts and
figures, as objectively visible demonstrations of
transparency, while presenting one version of
usually very complex stories, cannot elide or
eliminate the significance of subjective,
embodied—that is to say, human—
understandings of them (see Sobchack, 2004,
pp. 179–204). Von Furstenberg (2001),
provides a persuasive critique of any over-
enthusiastic embrace of transparency as an
objective ‘public good’. He argues, rather, that
questions of and demands for transparency are
inevitably bound up with specific relations of
power, in particular social, financial, and
political contexts. Nevertheless, it seems that,
despite its complaint about the risks of
transparency and its commitment to “more and
better transparency” (Nike, 2005, p.89), Nike
appears at least to be starting to understand the
necessary, ethical limits on its capacity to
control the perceptions of its stakeholders, and
10
by extension its own reputation, particularly in
its approach to and practices of rhetoric.
Conclusion
We live in a culture overwhelmed by text,
language, and rhetoric. We are constantly
confronted with attempts on behalf of
organisations, corporations, institutions,
political parties, special interest groups, and
lobby groups, to gain our attention and influence
our perceptions. Too often this rhetorical
bombardment, or it might even be called
propaganda (see Moloney, 2004), feels as
though there are words, words to be seen, words
visible everywhere, but too few which directly
address us, engage us, and sustain us. Mostly
their effect is to silence and alienate us. So what
is it that might make a difference? I have tried to
argue here that rhetoric must matter in public
communication practices in general and in
public relations activities in particular. This will
involve a necessary shift by public relations
professionals from conceiving of language as
simply image or objective product. It will
involve acknowledging the centrality of the
dialogic rhetorical practices that help forge a
relationship between an organisation and its
various stakeholders, and help to define an
organisation’s ethical stance. Using rhetoric to
engage and influence stakeholders is one thing.
Believing that rhetoric can ‘do the work’ of
manufacturing and managing reputation,
abstracted from the real activities and interests
of those people who produce it, on the one hand,
and from those people who interpret and make
meaning from it, on the other, is cynical or
short-sighted or both.
As I have suggested, however, I am
encouraged by a company such as Nike, which
now appears to understand that using language
for the sake of mere (and more) visibility is not
enough. It is rather the language of vision, one
that takes account of the perceiving human
subjects (the readers and the writers, the
listeners and the speakers), that may persuade
publics to read or to listen, and perhaps even to
try and get a word in themselves.
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Address for correspondence
Anne Surma
School of Social Sciences and Humanities
Murdoch University
Perth
Western Australia.
[email protected]
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