Disaster Relief

But relief from what?

Premier Andrew Furey in Port aux basques after Hurricane FIONA. This is the original, lop-sided framing of the photo posted by the Premier’s Office to social media.

Emergency or crisis communications is something I have been involved with personally over decades.

Same is true for political communications, generally.

So it was a bit odd to have folks on Twitter the other day tell me off for offering what one described as a nasty conspiracy theory when I pointed out that the Premier’s wardrobe choices for his visit to the southwest coast of Newfoundland after the hurricane left something to be desired.

As I explained, the “most carefully curated image ever to occupy the Premier's Office went with a Jed Bartlet-inspired look (branded windbreaker with branded ball cap) to cosplay the episode ‘Disaster Relief.’ Furey went with chinos vice Bartlet's jeans but the style choice is unmistakable.”

“In the photos with Parsons and Loveless, the jacket, ball cap, and posture made Furey look out of place. They looked mature and responsible. Furey looked inexperienced, not serious. All in all a curious but quite obviously deliberate image choice.”

Another one said I was surmising - to offer a claim without evidence - and that it was a bizarre thing to talking about the Premier’s clothing choices in the first place. A few people have said something along those lines to me earlier on as I took issue with the Premier’s plan to swan into the area after the disaster.

As I explained further, “at the very least, someone appearing on camera or speaking to an audience, needs to ditch distractions to the core message. This can include verbal tics, clothing, background, and so on. You can also use visuals to reinforce messaging but this should be inconspicuous. When they look out of place or out of character, visuals have a negative effect. They become distraction. Hence my point about wearing the cap and jacket indoors, sitting down. Hope that helps you see the point.”

Like many politicians, the Premier and his staff decide things like what he wears just like they decide where he goes and what he says when he gets there. I’ve said before that Andrew Furey is the most curated person to ever occupy the Premier’s Office in Newfoundland and Labrador and I’ll stand by that any time, offering as many examples as necessary to prove the point.

The folks who got angry enough to either scold me or praise weren;t actually responding to my comments. They were displaying their own emotional reaction to Furey. There were fanboys and fangirls on one side and there were the haters on the other.

Those are the only people who would be moved enough to respond and that’s especially clear since none of them dealt with the more detailed explanation about what *I* was talking about. Anyone who was indifferent to Andrew Furey guy would be equally indifferent to the criticism of what he did and wore.

Anyway, people want to see him, some of the defenders surmised - which would actually be a claim without any evidence - or offered the comment he would be damned if he went and damned if he didn’t. That may be true, but it ignores the point I made, namely that he should never have gone in the first place. Another couple of comments noted Furey was a nice guy. Again, true. But completely irrelevant.

The bigger issue I tackled on Monday was whether or not Furey should have gone to Port aux Basques like he did. There are at least three arguments against political disaster tourism.

First, it can cause logistical problems in areas that are usually already under great strain. Having a politician and the inevitable train of staffers and media that go with them doesn’t help. It frequently hinders. In the worst cases, it hurts.

Second, there’s no actual public relations value in the show or - put another way - there is greater value in doing something else.

Whether they are the folks hurt by a disaster or the folks watching it on the news, everyone is focused on helping the people directly involved.

That’s the only focus.

And it should be the only focus.

Period.

A politician swanning into a disaster zone and chatting for a few minutes before frigging off somewhere else may produce some neat visuals for his publicity team but strategically, the pol always look like a self-serving jackass. His political opponents will sometimes say it out loud. The people who think even his bodily excretions are golden will disagree but neither is going to change their opinion of him anyway.

The folks in the middle - particularly those whose homes are laying about the countryside in bits the size of matchsticks may politely applaud. They will be singularly unimpressed by a politician telling some reporter how deeply moved he was to see the devastation. If asked, they will say polite and appropriately positive things about how nice it was to see the high and mighty one. But inside they are just rolling their eyes and wondering how they will get the fridge out of the bay as the crowd of gawkers file back to the buses or SUVs and head to an airplane back to Sin Jawns or down the road to a comfortable hotel room with a minibar and room service at public expense.

That’s the best the politician can hope for with that middle bunch, which is always the bulk of the audience. If the politician is up in the polls, she will not improve her standing and if she is down in the polls she is more likely to trigger the cynical reaction to what is - to be blunt - the politician’s performance of a role.

The only way people will change attitudes with a glad-handing campaign swing through the middle of a disaster area is if the politician can wave her hand and make the whole thing go poof back like it was. And since that is a fiction, there are lots of cost and a great deal of risk for frig-all gain in any episode of disaster tourism by a politician.