Thoughts and Prayers (and other things we say that no longer mean anything)

I was in a media training session last week with a group of smart, thoughtful and empathetic people. Each was a leader who could potentially be called upon to speak publicly if something went wrong. And in the industry they work in, things occasionally go wrong in ways that affect real people and make big headlines.

We were working through the messaging component of the workshop. This is the part where each person, working with a unique crisis scenario, tries to put into words what their organization would say via the media. It's one of the most revealing parts of the day.

Their first drafts came back the way they always do. Polished, careful and corporate. Lots of four and five syllable words. And woven throughout, the phrases I've been hearing in media training sessions rooms for years:

• "The safety of our customers is our top priority."

• "We take these matters very seriously."

• "Our thoughts are with those who have been affected."

Just to be clear...every person in the room meant every word they wrote. The intentions were genuine. The problem is that those phrases no longer land the way they used to.

The "Thoughts and Prayers" problem

For a long time, the phrase 'thoughts and prayers' was a sincere, widely accepted way to express sympathy following a tragedy. When something terrible happened (a natural disaster, a sudden loss, an act of violence), the instinct to offer thoughts and prayers was a genuine, human response.

Then, something shifted. This isn't a post about firearms or politics. But it's difficult to talk about this trend without acknowledging the context. In the years following repeated mass shootings, "thoughts and prayers" became the reflexive public response of those who were unwilling or unable to say anything more substantive. It was offered so consistently, in such similar circumstances, that over time, it stopped meaning what it once did.

For many, "thoughts and prayers" has come to mean something close to the opposite of what the people saying it intended. It's become a signal of an organization going through the motions of caring. That's what happens to language when it gets used as a placeholder for genuine thought.

Back to the training room

I pushed back on the group and asked them to reconsider some of their language. I didn't rewrite their messages. The crafting of your own messages is one of the most important parts of the media relations process and it's best when people discover it for themselves.

Instead, I asked each of them, "How would you say this to someone over coffee? If you were sitting across a table from someone you trusted and you needed to explain what happened and what your organization was doing about it, what words would actually come out of your mouth?"

The answers all changed. And each response was significantly better than what they had written down. More human. Less like a press release.

The corporate phrases so many reach for in a crisis ("the safety of our customers is our top priority") have been used so often, by so many different organizations, that they've been drained of the sincerity that once made them useful.

Give yourself permission to sound human

This doesn't mean any spokesperson should abandon prep or speak carelessly. The goal is to prepare so thoroughly that when you speak, it sounds like you mean it, because you do. It's about choosing words that reflect how your organization thinks and feels, rather than what an organization is supposed to say.

The people you need to reach in a crisis aren't looking for polish. They're looking for honesty. And honesty has a sound that doesn't come from a template.