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April 2004, Volume 18, Issue 4 - The Media as a Force-Multiplier |
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By Martin M. Goldstein
One of the more lasting of the military terms that have come out of the once and current war in Iraq, along with the disposable “WMD’s” and “Shock and Awe,” is the expression “force-multiplier,” as in: “...surprise and tactical positioning can be a force-multiplier” during a combat engagement. The same number of people can act with the force of many times their number, if they act in certain ways when the engage the enemy. And if you are few, and they are many, that’s not just a good thing, but a necessary one.
I thought of this when my youngest son, Max, along with some friends from his and other colleges pulled off a stunningly successful media coup this spring break. Essentially, six kids just barely old enough to vote, with no money and no connections, managed to multiply their force enough to be the equal of the President of the United States -- at least for a few sound-bite moments.
They both had their pictures next to each other on the front page of the Orlando Sentinel last month, appearing as “equal time” representatives of differing views. That simply is not chopped liver. Given that the President has a few more cards to play than six college kids on spring break, they must have done something very right to play in this league, even for a day, and they did. They used their intelligence and initiative to parlay their ideas to the media, who multiplied their force a zillion times over, to make it equal in PR terms to that of President Bush. Let me explain, since it’s a lesson we can all learn from.
It began when Max, a freshman at Bowdoin College in Maine, drove a van to Florida with a fellow student to attend a conference on politics and the environment in Gainesville, Florida over his spring break. After the conference they drove to Orlando, where Bush was kicking off his re-election campaign with a big rally. Max and his Bowdoin buddy hooked up with four Ohio State students who had tickets to the event, which they all attended as paying guests while sporting t-shirts that said, “Some Things Were Never Meant To Be Recycled: Defeat Bush, Save the Future.”
Needless to say, they were not exactly welcomed with open arms. Nonetheless, they had tickets and they had a right to be there; after all, it’s a free country, at least in theory. But, as Max tells it, the evil glares were getting to them, so they stopped walking around and congregated instead at the most, perhaps only congenial location -- the press area. Where, of course, they were met with open arms. There’s no fun to a story with only one side; the kids were instant sound and picture opposition bites, and the press was all over it, and the kids were happy to oblige. No dummies, they.
But then the men with the dark glasses and wingy-dingys in their ears came over, (the Secret Service), and told them they had to leave. The kids asked why, and the men said they don’t have to tell the kids why, they’re the Secret Service and the kids should clear out.
Which they didn’t, being, at least one of them, a Santa Monica kid who knows his rights as a citizen, just like the kids we saw up in Sacramento in the March in March. They all knew their rights, and stood their ground. They had bought tickets and they had a right to be there. So there!
Well, the guys with the dark glasses and wingy-dingys in their ears backed off, but came right back with about fifteen cops with the intention to drag them out if they didn’t walk out on their own. By now the press corps, next to which they were still standing (that’s my boy!) was kvelling their brains out at the photo op cum story unfolding ever so conveniently right in front of them.
They followed it as our heroes, momentarily The Orlando Six, marched out of the arena accompanied by the cops and wingy-dingy guys, holding hands, tickets held aloft for the cameras, showing their t-shirts proudly, and ending up with equal time on the front page of the aforementioned Orlando newspaper as well as on the television news that night.
It’s all true. You could look it up. Or rather, Google it.
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