Listening instead of texting
In politics, journalism and nightlife, there are waterheads and charmers. A plea for the editorial power of seduction.
Column In politics, journalism and nightlife, there are waterheads and charmers. A plea for the editorial power of seduction.William Gladstone, leader of the Liberal Party and Prime Minister in Victorian England, was a strict moralist. He used his inaugural visit to the Queen to announce his principles of royalism in a long speech. Then, at the weekly briefings, he held endless monologues about economic facts and political contexts.Benjamin Disraeli, on the other hand, the leader of the Conservatives and Gladstone's successor, flattered Queen Victoria from the outset. He parleyed about her beauty, declared his ideas to be hers and reported on politics and parliament with characterizations such as the following: "In stature, my new minister measures six feet and four inches; like St. Peter in Rome, no one is aware of his dimensions at first sight. But he not only has the mass, but also the acumen of an elephant."
The result was predictable: The Queen hated Gladstone, next to whom she felt stupid and boring. She, on the other hand, raved about the charming Disraeli like a fish out of water. And thus gained a renewed interest in politics. The result: the British Empire flourished.
The moral of this? Nobody appreciates intelligence, information or ideas as long as they are served without seduction. Nevertheless, Gladstones continue to swarm: in politics, but also in the media industry. The Gladstones of today are still trying to break the will of the readership with facts, opinions and morals. (Internally, the latter nowadays usually comes in Power Point format and is based on marketing concepts, full-cost accounting and other biblical exegeses). However, the job of journalists and publishers is to seduce readers like queens. And to do so with a few simple premises in mind:
1. people hate feeling stupid. Whether through superior knowledge of the facts or - today's variant - routine ingratiation: people may not dare to disagree, but they will take revenge at the first opportunity. At least through disinterest. Those who risk their face, on the other hand, are loved by the audience and the queens at the bar. So Mbwana, dare to express doubt, uncertainty and open conclusions in your articles!
2. people don't want facts, they want stories. The majority of political and economic reporting, however, lacks these qualities, which even the most banal Bastei-Lübbe novel has mastered: the emotionalizing depiction of locations, entanglements and flesh-and-blood actors, including their previous adventures. Far too often, stories from the centers of power have the air of official molds and file folders.
3. people detest new ideas. Except their own. The most effective thing to do, both personally and in writing, is to attribute your own ideas (or interests) to the other person, i.e. the reader.
4 The most effective means of seduction, however, is listening. An English princess once remarked: "After the dinner I spent by Mr. Gladstone's side, I thought he was the cleverest man in England. But after sitting next to Mr. Disraeli, I think I am the cleverest woman in England." In fact, we practically never fall in love with brilliant people, but with people in whose presence we are brilliant. Or at least feel that way. If we manage to impress editors, interview partners, readers and - last but
Definetly not least - listening to opposite-sex people at the bar, they are brought into our beds by the safest means of all: the golden sound of your own voice.
So, magical Mbwana, enough for today. The rest is your story.
> Constantin Seibt is editor for politics and economics at the weekly newspaper (WOZ).
The result was predictable: The Queen hated Gladstone, next to whom she felt stupid and boring. She, on the other hand, raved about the charming Disraeli like a fish out of water. And thus gained a renewed interest in politics. The result: the British Empire flourished.
The moral of this? Nobody appreciates intelligence, information or ideas as long as they are served without seduction. Nevertheless, Gladstones continue to swarm: in politics, but also in the media industry. The Gladstones of today are still trying to break the will of the readership with facts, opinions and morals. (Internally, the latter nowadays usually comes in Power Point format and is based on marketing concepts, full-cost accounting and other biblical exegeses). However, the job of journalists and publishers is to seduce readers like queens. And to do so with a few simple premises in mind:
1. people hate feeling stupid. Whether through superior knowledge of the facts or - today's variant - routine ingratiation: people may not dare to disagree, but they will take revenge at the first opportunity. At least through disinterest. Those who risk their face, on the other hand, are loved by the audience and the queens at the bar. So Mbwana, dare to express doubt, uncertainty and open conclusions in your articles!
2. people don't want facts, they want stories. The majority of political and economic reporting, however, lacks these qualities, which even the most banal Bastei-Lübbe novel has mastered: the emotionalizing depiction of locations, entanglements and flesh-and-blood actors, including their previous adventures. Far too often, stories from the centers of power have the air of official molds and file folders.
3. people detest new ideas. Except their own. The most effective thing to do, both personally and in writing, is to attribute your own ideas (or interests) to the other person, i.e. the reader.
4 The most effective means of seduction, however, is listening. An English princess once remarked: "After the dinner I spent by Mr. Gladstone's side, I thought he was the cleverest man in England. But after sitting next to Mr. Disraeli, I think I am the cleverest woman in England." In fact, we practically never fall in love with brilliant people, but with people in whose presence we are brilliant. Or at least feel that way. If we manage to impress editors, interview partners, readers and - last but
Definetly not least - listening to opposite-sex people at the bar, they are brought into our beds by the safest means of all: the golden sound of your own voice.
So, magical Mbwana, enough for today. The rest is your story.
> Constantin Seibt is editor for politics and economics at the weekly newspaper (WOZ).
