The death of print journalism in its current form is a fact- the industry is in freefall. This continuous groundswell, augmented by the firestorm of Leveson, has turned the public- by and large- furiously against the journalistic profession. As the prevalence and standing of conventional print media declines, the PR industry will necessarily morph over years and decades into a hybrid beast, incorporating networking, influencing and social media as its key tenets.

Media of all kinds are almost by definition dominated by curiosity and novelty, with timeframes set by miniscule attention spans. Yet despite the undoubted importance of considering what’s next, we mustn’t forget the importance of what is, what we have already. While I’m aware there are many in the industry ready to gleefully welcome a lobotomised, castrated press, I can’t imagine anything more tragic.

From a PR perspective, no amount of saccharine, tame coverage can beat the engagement and story value brought by a great independent journalist getting behind you. A journalist willing to blandly spew out whatever a PR tells them may bring column inches for the client, but their copy won’t generate actual conversation. A fantastic journalist who gets truly excited by the recommendation of a trusted publicist will be the one to make or break a meme.

Aside from anything else, those with dedication to fact and authenticity- and the training to pursue it- will always be needed as mediators. Even in a world dominated by the chattering of the masses, someone needs to be present to sift through the torrent of useless information to find the gold, not just in terms of the truth, but in terms of what’s genuinely exciting, truly valuable.

As editors faced the muzak, a genuine tabloid legend’s coffin was making its way past a sea of solemn faces inside a dimly lit church in SW15. Mournful voices drowned out by the perpetual clang of a tolling bell heard moving tributes celebrating the life of ‘Smoking’ Sue Carroll.

When I first met Sue in my early 20’s she scared me to death. She was overwhelmingly glamorous, gritty and tough.  Gradually, however, my trepidation and the fear subsided. The more we did business, the more I learnt about the idiosyncrasies and the methods of popular journalism.

I treasured Sue’s friendship and confidence. Standing in the church fighting  back the tears I found it difficult to believe a constant presence in my professional life would no longer be at the end of the phone or available for an old fashioned lunch. Cancer corroded and finally consumed this vital human. Sue’s passing is significant, a metaphor, perhaps, for a type of journalism the like of which we will never see again.

Most importantly, Sue taught me to trust whilst correctively ensuring my words matched my message. Off the record gossip- no matter how compelling- remained firmly off the record. She never betrayed a confidence and remained true to her word.  On three occasions she delivered  some very bad news about errant clients. Thankfully she provided me with the time and space to gather my professional  wits before the deafening clamour descended from on high. It was never an easy ride with Sue, but it was always an honest ride.

The funeral and subsequent wake were portentous. Whether the gathered throng shared my observation or not I don’t know, but it felt to me like we were mourning the death of a whole profession. When I looked around that room at a collection of legends and old warhorses, I was brought shockingly down to earth. Many were unable to work, others were stripped of all their power. In short, the question was begged as to who was left to bring experience, temperance and morality to the popular press.

Hate destroys a man’s sense of values and his objectivity. Society is clearly angry about the dark art which trades as modern popular journalism. Alas a hunger for stories at any cost was overwhelmed by the malady of an ugly lycanthropy. It is pointless to posit a dewy eyed eulogy for newspapers and journalists, but it is a time to declare the game has changed.

It’s a fact that old media is in fast decline, that I will see the death of print.  Hopefully the legend of Sue Carrol will be preserved  and  cherished and not lost in the sea of detritus and the sins of a generation of lazy hacks

The values enshrined in the ethics of Sue should not be forgotten. It’s not an artifice to suggest that responsible journalism could be confident in a two way relationship between parties on different sides of the line. Any PRs rubbing their hands at the prospect of a neutered press are gravely mistaken- great content is about managing relationships with the mavericks and the enthusiasts. It is they who will produce copy to truly capture and excite the crowd.Sue and I United on BBC Breakfast

So writes .com marketing legend Seth Godin in his piece “The Secret of the Web”. He’s totally correct. As anyone who has ever striven to realise an original idea knows, not only the media but those with the power in business and in society are professional cynics working to a very small time scale. If you want to create something real, you’ll have to spend a lot of time ignoring those who take your lack of results as proof of failure almost as soon as you’ve started.

It’s a thought that conmingled in my head over the weekend with the triumph of the pathetically named but surprisingly talented ‘Little Mix’ in this year’s X Factor. The audience got behind this somewhat rag-tag bunch because they got about as close to representing truth and single-minded determination as it’s possible to on the X Factor.

Media coverage has centred around their close intra-group relationships, and perhaps more importantly their relationships with existing stars. The tale of Geri Halliwell sending the group a bouquet before their final performance spread through the British and Scottish tabloids and highlights a crucial part of their appeal: these are individuals with respect for those who went before them and a desire to forge something similarly tangible. They’re the antithesis to the Frankie Cocozza model of empty fame.

Their plight is now clear, and one that every new brand- whether a teen pop sensation or a small scale start up- can learn from. One hopes that from the opportunity they’ve been handed, they’ll be able to plunder something sufficiently real to live up to their seemingly earnest aspirations- success in the true, not pre-packaged sense. However, from the outset they’ll be confronting a tidal wave of critics desperate to swamp them. They’ll also find a similarly formidable number of bigger and significantly more corporate fish looking to appropriate them into the cliché-ridden world of advertising contracts. In a year’s time, it’s sadly likely they’ll either have been hijacked by Tesco or be dead in the water.

Sound familiar? You’ve probably started a business, or even are still running one. You may not be splashed all over the tabloids or have Tulisa on your board, but you’ll have faced the same war on two fronts: the ravenous detractors on one side, the ravenous appropriators on the other. In our digital-driven world, speed is often considered to be everything, and not without justification. However, it’s vital to remember that perseverance is just as important in a market characterised by fresh or shocking ideas. Google, Apple, Facebook and countless other technological sacred cows have achieved great things by settling in for the long haul time and again. Even as I write, there are scientists at CERN firing particles around, hoping to prove a model they’ve been working on for 47 years.

Unfortunately, I can’t offer you any concrete hope, but I can press upon you something which is absolutely central. Your initial success, your first meeting, your incredible idea: these are only the doorways to true attainment. Like Little Mix, it’s vital not to be satisfied with a few minutes of cheap exposure. Shoot for what’s real. Hopefully one day you’ll end up more like the Spice Girls and less like Olly Murs, introducing younger competitors to camera with the empty smile of the truly heartbroken.

The debate proceeded, the media machine turned, and I was powerless to change or influence it, or to explain my true point in any audible way. See any analogues?

The problem that the hacking scandal and the Leveson inquiry have thrown up is that, for most people, the media acts in just this way but writ large. It tantalises the average person as it touches on their daily lives, yet it is ultimately a mysterious and unalterable process to them.  When Jane Garvey asked me to clarify what it was I do this was brought home to me- would she ask the same of a solicitor or accountant?

The squabbles between the media and the famous are elevated to epic battles in the eyes of the public, who witness them through a filter. The reality is that this is a procedural question as complex and unromantic as its equivalent in any business. With tabloid journalism now largely driven by showbiz, and the public’s appetite for stories as ravenous and insatiable as ever, certain questions need to be asked and decisions made. However, they need to be made in a measured and demystified manner.

It would be better both for the media and for those in the public eye (who most often suffer the same banal problems as the rest of us) if the voodoo was stripped away.

More to the point, such people haven’t the funds or the knowledge to build suitable defences. They most certainly are not fair game.

However, I’ve less sympathy for Hugh Grant, Sienna Miller and the rest of them. While I wouldn’t go so far as Piers Morgan (who earlier in the week tweeted with typical flair “I do hope Nelson Mandela was watching Hugh Grant today, so he now understands what real persecution is all about”), as always in these situations I am inclined to remember the words of Clark Gable. If you’re going to sign a contract with fame, you’d better make sure you read the fine print.

It seems to me that it’s a question of investment- on both sides.  While in places there have been clear breaches of morality or legality by the press, I can’t help but feel that ‘twas ever thus. It’s always been the media’s job to grab the story, it’s never been part of its remit to be fair.  Clark, Marilyn and all of their generation all knew that, and they weren’t the first. However, they were largely kept immune from toxic stories by the excellent training they received at the hands of their studios. In the golden age of Hollywood, the movie business knew that a large portion of its precious capital came from maintaining squeaky clean stardom among its leading guys and dolls.

Nowadays, when celebrities hire publicists they look more often than not for relentless sharks, guaranteed to grab them as many column inches as humanly possible whenever they want to sell something. Those in the public eye would do well to take a lesson from the inquiry and put their money and time into generating a much more valuable relationship with an even handed publicist, one who commands tangible respect in journalistic circles. Coogan’s reduction of PR to ‘arranging interviews’ demonstrates the lack of awareness among celebrities as to just how valuable a good publicist can be. There’s plenty of them out there, but they need to be dug out.

On the side of the publicists, it’s up to these media professionals to make sure they maintain the ability for proper judgement: over-filling your client roster and chasing after names above feasibility make for image disasters.

I’m far from an apologist though: the press have made many wrong moves. Not least among these is the knee-jerk reaction by various prominent tweeters and commentators from the tabloid set-Piers Morgan et al- mischeviously characterising the inquiry as the meaningless whining of celebs. What’s needed is collaboration between the tabloids and their ‘victims’, and an end to pointless generalising and name calling.

The tabloids ‘per se’ are not the problem here, but they too need to look at how they might invest. Quality journalism has become compromised by money-saving attitudes. Those doing the harassing are the feral freelancers and would be paparazzi desperate for any story that might propel them into journalism’s golden circle, willing to chase any story for the fiver it might bag them. Now that the march of technology allows anyone willing to play the role a passable go at being a photographer, the crime committed by the tabloids is to lean on the crutch of cheap labour. This is where the poison begins.

Should the celebs and the press reach an impasse, we must bear in mind that the strangulation of tabloid journalism in this country would leave a vacuum only to be filled by showbiz websites bent on fevered fan adoration. This hardly sounds like a set up that’s easy to regulate. Publicists and journalists alike would need no skills, would develop no meaningful relationships, they’d simply be a lucky few. There’s no art in that and, more importantly, there’s little incentive to uncover the truth.

This year, however, something was missing. As per usual, I totally reworked my presentation, but found myself surrounded by other speakers from TV, Advertising and elsewhere flogging the same shtick they’ve been peddling the last couple of times round the track.

Perhaps I’m being unfair to my esteemed colleagues: they all succeeded wonderfully in making PowerPoint their bitch, fleshing out each point with whizzing animations, Technicolor wankfests and glorious info graphics to the point of turgidity. However, at heart, they were clinging on, and they were offering old thoughts to some of the newest minds in the country. Once again, it’s the PR world that’s at the front line of culture change.

I’m filled with hope that PR could be right at forefront of communications culture change, but first we have to overcome the prejudices and obstacles placed in our way by a group of disciplines who are perpetually convinced that they are right. At the course, as in real life, they were putting lipstick on a series of proverbial pigs. The audience may have been comprised largely of vegans and vegetarians, but pork was most certainly on the menu.

When confronted with all this self-congratulatory bollocks, I’m reminded of an old Jewish joke: A rabbi is acting as marriage counselor and agrees to see a couple, but one at a time. The wife carries on about the husband, and the rabbi nods, over and over: “You’re right! Of course, you’re right.” In his session, the rabbi tells the husband: “Yes, you’re right. What can I say– you’re right!” After they leave, the rabbi’s assistant, who heard it all, asks: “Not to be rude, Rabbi, but how can they both be right?” To which the rabbi responds: “You know what– you’re right!”

I’ve written about the show a lot on this blog: it’s always thrived on controversy. Syco’s PR lifeblood comes from outrageous stories that dig their claws in to the tabloid column inches and don’t let go for days: Katie Waissel’s gran, Chloe Mafia’s Prostitution, Ceri Rees’s humiliation and countless others. After making it through Boot Camp, Cocozza was pretty much handed an Ikea flatpack ‘hellraiser’ lifestyle, which he duly assembled within minutes and then attempted to cram up his nose.

For a time, he served his purpose: he was a decent story factory, most recently grabbing the show a page in the Mirror after his first girlfriend took them a kiss and tell. However, arguably things became a little too real after he started appearing inebriated on the show and prompted a full scale Ofcom investigation.

In deciding to fire him, the show have timed things perfectly: they can now distance themselves from whatever happens to the kid, while reaping the benefits of red top coverage that savages Cocozza while leaving them untouched.

One party that won’t be welcoming the news is M&S. Having proudly gloated about their X Factor themed Christmas ads earlier this year, they’ve found themselves a victim of ad folk’s thinking: close minded, unresponsive, short-term. They’re now saddled with a decaying, toxic brand, slowing down their promotion rather than giving them the gentle boost they’d presumably intended. I’ve been banging on about this for months, though they’re yet to send me through a 500 grand contract and a lifetime supply of orangey mini bites.

What’s more, it’s not an isolated moment of damage. The Mirror today ran with the line that Frankie had spent a large portion of his £3000 fee for the commercials on the very same ‘wild nights’ which got him expelled. Damage limitation has been implemented- though I doubt anyone buys the line (pardon the pun) that the money was just a ‘discretionary payment’ from Fremantle- but had M&S sought the advice of decent PRs in the first place, it wouldn’t be a necessity.

More pressingly, we must pray to whichever God is listening for poor Frankie, whose inevitable meltdown should be cosseted by some kind of duty of care from ITV or Syco. Following his 12 and 1/2 minutes of fame, he’s been cast away from the golden circle he was briefly permitted to enter, and the only possible result is bitterness, ironically the main recipe for perpetual obscurity.

I feel that the new Royal couple may have a similar problem. I might have got hold of the wrong end of the stick, but they seem to be playing down much of the glamour that is surely an essential part of the royal schtick. Kate Middleton is subtly selling the idea she will be nothing like her deceased mum-in-law to be (there’s a simpler way, Kate – don’t promote landmine charities!).

What is the point of royalty if there is no glamour? The Royal spin machine is much more professional that it was thirty years ago, but that very spin cycle seems to be rinsing out the parts that make royalty royal. They balance media relations with some tough, side of stage legal rottweilers and these snarling beasts control the minds of editorial ambition.

Of course, the world has moved on and super celebrity couples are thick on the ground. Posh and Becks, Brangelina – you know, the motley crew. Arguably the choice to carefully craft the brand narrative has been pretty clever. Perhaps they are being made to stand out by stepping back.

Make no mistake, however; it’s all about trade and commerce. Forget the tea towels, sick bags and bunting – by all accounts the House of Windsor is good for tourism. Isn’t that the reason to spend tax payers’ money? Doesn’t the world love all the pomp and circumstance? They flock to our shores, not for the bucolic vistas and awesome old cityscapes but for a glimpse of the monarchy – don’t they?

We are a nation cryogenically frozen in a period costume drama and don’t the foreign consumers just love it! This Friday the nation, and the world, will bask in fuzzy marshmallow sunshine as another brood mare is given the royal seal of approval. The event hype is moving at a fabulously controlled pace and the glamour machine is on hand for this event at least. There’s a firm hand on the media tiller – even Harry has been bolted down!

But after the state pageant do we want the future to be seamless and without flaws? I guess we are entering a new age, one without calamities. A perfect, photogenic couple; a prince with an ‘arm’s length’ media policy, controlled offerings and a statesman-like and focused approach, sans plummy vowels.

If this is it for the Royal gaffe, I will be very sad! I will mourn the era of Royal misfits and hapless bit part players, the era of It’s A Royal Knockout and its knock-on effects. Harry, Fergie, Andrew, Sophie, Edward, I beg you – please don’t disappear! Please make an effort and break out of your media shackles once in a while to give us all a laugh!

My old cohorts launched a new offering via PR Week last week, which naturally pasted me onto the front page. Lordy, what a headline. Last week I had nothing to say; I guess when I do, I will. Some wag on Twitter correctly observed that I’m quick to offer opinion as a rent-a-quote on public affairs yet remain tight-lipped on my own. The media landscape can be a funny old vista, if viewed from the outside rather than from within. It’s fascinating to listen to opinion about an idea I’ve provoked; sometimes it’s funny, sometimes cruel, sometimes wide of the mark – but always absorbing.

Front page headlines usually stimulate hype, and hype picks up speed, bumping into half truths on the journey to oblivion. The headline, I’d imagine, was hard for folk to get their heads around; some even thought it outlandish. One word, “disillusioned”, was a powerful meme, I guess. Somehow it thrust the story into the Twitter-sphere, pressing down hard on the opinion accelerator pedal without an effective brake. Dear reader, that’s the power of a headline; it delivers an inescapable implication, fragments news, filters out and frames an as yet unformed narrative.

Over the past two decades, from the advent of the email offering instant sharing, to social media giving the revolution real scale and true people power, the PR business has changed completely. Consumers are co-opting brand conversations and mashing and redistributing the ad men’s and PR peeps’ messages far and wide. This provoked a reflection on my personal future.

I am a curious, inquisitive and impatient soul who has an insatiable appetite for knowledge about the space I work in. Luckily I’ve had the foresight, experience and passion to stay ahead. My position has been commercially challenged in the last 2 years. I’ve found the consumer space difficult to work out. The truth is that so many people have felt the same challenges as well. Perhaps my boredom and a non-conformist personality would always find it difficult to overcome the frustrations.

This impatience and impulsiveness led me to try and consider building a media agnostic venture, integrated and yet different and centred on my experience and counsel. But I found it impossible to sell difference either to potential clients and even to my own colleagues. All who worked with my infectious enthusiasm to embrace the uncertainty of the future felt it was quite a thing to ratchet a set of gears. It’s easier, commercially, to plough a furrow than to change farming practice. There is nothing wrong with ploughing a field, but it’s not for me.

So, expecting change to happen around me or to sit back and wait for folk to catch up was rather stupid. Radical stuff is a bit scary, especially if you don’t know if it will work. For the record, I don’t, but the smaller model is easier to steer than a Moxy MT51 articulated dump truck. I guess I just don’t feel comfortable with a corporate structure. I’ve always believed that the renown people achieve through helping each other and collaborating more is the most important kind.

There is a potency that’s achieved by snatching all you can when you can, but I prefer constructing something of real substance and seeing what happens, alongside people who want to share an interesting, and at times unconventional, journey. This stickiness attracts people of tremendous vision as well as building a space for an interesting work ethic.

So, the future? Ay there’s the rub… How to shape an idea for the future, corporately, is going to be my personal challenge. When I have sealed the deals I’m working on now, and got the like-minded thinkers on board, then I’ll be ready to provide sound bites and lashings of commentary.

In an age of time-compressed newsrooms and the ten-minute news cycle, opportunities for the old school long lunch are pretty much all encased in the British Museum, alongside a sorry-looking stuffed Dodo. This is a shame, as there were valuable lessons to be learned at the long lunch coalface back in the day.

One of the most valuable lessons that I learned from these Bacchanalian skirmishes was the precious skill of face reading. But now we live in a world where nearly all communication is done by email or text and a network of contacts can be built up with a few clicks on a keyboard.

It is a little worrying at times that this is so – not because I have a problem with social networking and the onrush of technology, but more because there is a generation of people who are not gaining the emotional intelligence necessary to function fully as a good PR. Social media is a wonderful and useful tool, but if you don’t have the opportunity to meet people face to face as well how are you to develop meaningful relationships with them?

Things have changed in 20 years – not only on a grander scale, but in the minutiae too. My journalist friend stared sadly at the expensive bottle of water I’d ordered and said “Can you imagine ordering that in 1985? You’d have been locked up!”

We’ve lost as well as gained a lot since the 1980s but after this meeting I am looking with concern at the future, wondering what will happen to the art of communication and PR if the art of the long lunch and all the necessary emotional intelligence and understanding of people and their body language, which one needs if one is to communicate with them fully, is consigned to the museums.