Or: Grad-school-induced crisis of professional conscience
During my last semester at Hopkins, I worked on a final project with a small group. The assignment was this:
Create a video to promote the graduate program. Upload the video to YouTube. Promote the everloving HECK out of that video. Write a 10-page paper and give a 15-minute presentation about the experience and the strategy. The group with the most views wins five extra points added to each person’s final grade.
Given that lead-in, you might think my title is about the video we created and how it’s SO AWESOME that everyone should watch it twice and share it with everyone they know, right?
Nope.
The title is about you – my network, my readers, my audiences, and my friends. You deserve more from me than endless, shameless promotion of a video that has nothing to do with you, isn’t funny, and won’t make you cry.
(Don’t get me wrong. We made a pretty good video, for amateurs. The other teams went in other directions and I liked elements of their videos, but I think ours was at least tied for the best.)
My network is built of people I trust. People I respect. People whose respect I would like to keep. I had no interest in spamming them to watch my video more than once in order to win even five real points.
From the start, I had a problem with this assignment. Here’s my approach to digital communications strategy (roughly — each client is different):
- Understand the company, the project, and the objective.
- Understand the audience(s) — their needs, preferences, and online habits, etc.
- Balance engagement/follow-up resource needs — what can the client realistically sustain?
- Develop the strategy.
- Create and promote the content across media and platforms.
- Support the client and measure the success of the effort.
- Rinse, repeat, etc.
Here’s the process for the final non-thesis project for my graduate degree in communications:
- Consult with group. Discuss what makes a video popular — drama, emotion, humor, fart jokes, etc. Assess team members’ strengths. Start planning content.
- Note that your options for “virality” are limited. Also note that “viral” is a reward for a good strategy, not a strategy on its own. Also note that you have zero ability to implement actual strategy, given that the assignment is to produce a tactic without a strategy behind it other than “Get lots of views.” Also note that there is no mechanism for measuring real success, such as how many more qualified applicants were driven to apply by the video.
- Consult with client about vague objective.
- Note that real objective (promote program, get more qualified applications) is not the same as the prize objective (get everyone you know to watch the video as many times as possible, even if they have no interest in communications or grad school).
- Note that client is default client that, understandably, has no reason to prioritize the project.
- Develop content. Recognize, dismayed, that you are limited to a school-sanctioned commercial, which means something student-y and edgy is…out of keeping with the school’s brand.
- Consult with client, gain approval.
- Post and promote video.
- Get very good grade, but don’t win the extra points (the winning team, to be fair, deserved to win).
- Drink heavily to mask the taste of having had to set aside EVERYTHING WE KNEW about credible, successful campaigns to meet the professor’s expectations.
That last bit is a bit of an exaggeration. We planned a happy hour, but we were all a little too wiped out to make it go. The best thing that came out of this class, aside from a good excuse to get myself a shiny new flipcam (!), was the knowledge that my classmates and I knew better.
Great content is critical, but great content promoted without context doesn’t meet anyone’s needs. I can’t exaggerate the overall value I got from the Hopkins program — ending my coursework with an assignment like this left me a bit sad.



The best part — the hands-down, very best part — of writing and editing professionally is capturing and enhancing someone’s voice. Everyone has a voice. You have one,
Oh, Facebook. You have just made my passion (Engagement Evangelist) simultaneously easier and more difficult.