By Fraser P. Seitel
By now you've read all the media blowback on Donald Trump's soon-to be-announced "Sorry, But I'm Not Running" presidential candidacy.
As they do every four years when Trump reveals he's "thinking seriously about running for president," a few brave souls in the media have been merciless in criticizing the insufferably-boastful megalomaniac.
• "He's a clown."
• "He's a liar."
• "He's a sanctimonious skunk."
• "He's a total hypocrite."
• "He's a complete phony – Al Sharpton without the hair."
• "He's a complete phony – Al Sharpton with the hair."
• "He's an insufferably-boastful megalomaniac."
All of which, of course, is indisputable.
But what even his most unforgiving critics – including the saps who lost their shirts investing in his public casinos – have to acknowledge: Donald Trump is a 21st century publicity genius.
He is not, as some mistakenly suggest, a "public relations genius." Public relations, as we all know, begins with proper action truthfully communicated. And nobody in his right mind would ever associate the three times bankrupt, serially-exaggerating Trumpster with either "proper action" or, heaven forefend, "truth." So a "public relations genius," he is not.
But just as that scourge of PR professionals, P.T. Barnum, did in the 19th century, so, too, has Donald Trump deftly figured out how to get publicity in the 21st century. Like his role model impresario Barnum, Trump has learned to play a gullible and entertainment-oriented media like a Stradivarius.
And while students of the practice of public relations may not like it, Trump's maniacal methods are sure-fire publicity generators in today's media culture.
Here's the formula Donald has embraced to make himself a publicity genius.
1. Be outrageous.
In 21st century America, "outrageous" sells.
Just consider Charley Sheen, Charles Barkley, Paris Hilton, Perez Hilton, not to mention Snooki.
It used to be that in order to make the press, a story had to have meaning or import or credibility of some sort. No longer. In a culture dominated by "celebrity," the outrageousness of the claim or the claimant is all that's needed to spark journalistic interest.
The more outrageous, the more publicity.
Trump – with the hair, the glare, the bragging, the "You're fired," etc. – can be trusted to be outrageous every time he opens his yap.
And that's sufficient to justify coverage.
2. Make things up.
Accuracy in reporting used to matter. Today, not so much.
Pretenders, like Trump, realize that rarely will their perpetual penchant toward "exaggeration" ever be challenged by a mostly groveling and unquestioning media. So they, uh, fib with no compunction.
The Donald's favorite word, of course, is "fabulous" --- as in, "Everything I'm involved with is ‘fabulous.'"
The facts, depending on the particular Trump treasure he's extolling, e.g. his net worth, the value of his real estate investments, the success of his casinos, etc., often tend to be less than "fabulous."
"My name," the Donald likes to say, "is the gold standard." Well, not exactly. On analysis, more like the "shlock standard."
But it doesn't matter. Journalists and – more important to Trump – Chinese investors all seem to believe the made-up hype. And the Chinese continue to invest, and the journalists continue to publicize.
3. Roll over your critics.
Trump is a bully and doggone proud of it.
If you dispute his unsubstantiated boasts, as a former New York Times business writer did in a book about Donald's real net worth, he sues for defamation.
If you write nastily about him, as Times' op-ed columnist Gail Collins did last week, he blasts back with an ungrammatical, vitriol-laden Letter to the Editor, e.g. "I have great respect for Ms. Collins in that she has survived so long with so little talent."
If you're one of the few, brave reporters to challenge him, as WSJ.com interviewer Kelly Evans tried last week when the would-be President bellowed that the only reason we should "go into places like Iran or Libya is to get their oil," he storms right past the question, says what he wants, and keeps talking.
The impact on most interviewers of Trump's trampling technique is to succumb into submission and let the Donald bully on.
4. Seize what's "hot."
Finally, publicity maven Trump is well aware that today's journalists, mindful of the non-stop scoopery of the Internet, are driven by two things: 1) timeliness and 2) topicality.
Accordingly, Donald keeps his tongue at the ready, poised to leap on whatever happens to be dominating the news at the moment. Whether or not he has any idea what he's talking about.
His latest bonanza is the "birther" issue, in which the President's failure to produce a Hawaiian birth certificate suggests to right-wing doubters that Obama is an alien.
Enter a doubting Donald into the fray, and he's all over the air waves, hiring private investigators, calling out the President for proof, and generally pumping new life into an almost-forgotten – not to mention, loony -- accusation.
Most of all, Trump's birther ploy is generating oodles of willing publicity for the won't be-candidate himself from a pliant press corps.
Again, pure publicity genius.
Bottom line: Donald Trump, like his brother-in-con Al Sharpton – a convicted police defamer who now is celebrated by Presidents – has figured out how to turn lemons into lemonade by getting reporters to report what he wants when he wants it.
This free publicity ride would abruptly end, of course, the moment Trump decides to throw his hair into the ring and actually run for President.
Which is why he never will. |