Meet the Press
23/08/08 05:12
World Water Week in Stockholm is very policy oriented. This year, much of the focus was on sanitation, but two days were spent in a series of linked symposia on water and climate. Talks ranged from more details on emerging climate impacts with the IPCC’s new technical report on water and climate to regional and local adaptation strategies and tactics. Easily two of the most novel experiences for me as a scientist were interacting with the press as an “adaptation expert” and holding some introductory climate adaptation conversations with two international development banks. I’ll write more about the banks later, but the media interaction was a good if difficult experience.
At a staff meeting on Thursday, our press officer pointed at me and another colleague: Be at the press office by noon. I had been reading something, not expecting to receive a command. Me? Why? You’ll be holding a press conference. Eyebrows, I said, OK. I’ll be there.
A few hours later in the press office, I was shunted into a bare white room with soundproofing on the outside of the door. A small digital videocamera stood at the back of the room. Our press officer was pointing at my name sitting on the table at the other end in front of a World Water Week backdrop. His name should say “doctor,” not “mister.” A young woman apologized and ran out. Three glasses of water stood on the table, with three plastic name stands. I sat down where mine had been, followed by two colleagues. We’ll begin with your statement, the officer said to one, then you, and then finally you, John. What’s a statement? My new name card appeared. Just make a concise statement of two or three points you think are key to freshwater and climate change, perhaps three minutes. Then we’ll take questions. And don’t talk to the camera. Talk to the people in the room. Talk slowly and clearly. Keep things pretty brief. That’s all you do.
Trying not to blank out, I watched the door to the room as it was securely closed. We were told the camera was on, and the most senior colleague introduced the three of us to the sparsely occupied room. Other colleagues clustered in the back. Several held digital SLRs and began madly taking pictures of us from various angles. Besides some convention support staff and the woman with the videocamera, I could identify only two reporters, both women in the late 20s or early 30s without any ID. One was east Asian. The other seemed Anglo-American. Both held notepads and watched our faces in turn while scribbling every few seconds.
The first colleague ended quickly, and the middle colleague began talking about examples of freshwater climate adaptation around the world. He held up a publication to show the camera. He scanned the room as if it held many more people but held the eyes of both reporters. The rest of our colleagues in the back watched us very quietly, and I saw them scribble some notes. I pulled out one of my business cards and wrote down some thoughts of what to say. Thought again, crossed one out, and then thought, My business card is a very small piece of paper to read notes from. The voice droned on to my left as I tried to nod my head and appear to listen as I furiously collected my thoughts.
Which leads me to introduce my colleague.... He turned and gave me a small smile. I was on. Thanks, J, I said.
I don’t really know how long I spoke, but it couldn’t have been any longer than four minutes. I tried to look at each person in the rest of the room and to ignore the camera, which loomed like some glowing eye of Mordor at me. Lots more shutter clicks from the SLRs. I said something about how climate change was impacting freshwater, and how climate mitigation and climate adaptation differ. And then I said a little about how freshwater was different from other kinds of biomes, such as forests or coral reefs. I hung for few seconds on a choice of words (god, how late was I up last night? how many hours am I jetlagged?). My colleagues to my left gave stage nods, their bodies half-turned to me to guide the camera’s affect. I watched the reporters. They seemed very focused on me. Too focused. And I decided I was done and stopped.
Questions?
M on the front row gave me a big smile, and the colleagues at the back of the room seemed happy. It was over.
A few questions came in, and usually all three of us commented. But this lasted less than the actual statements. Only the two reporters asked us anything. Then it was really over. The camera stopped. People began moving and talking. The east Asian reporter approached a Chinese colleague to do a filmed Mandarin-language interview for the North American market. The other woman came over and spoke with a U.S. accent to the other colleague. Thanks for sending that material to me — it really helped. Then she handed me a card from a well-known U.S. magazine and asked if she could contact me if she had further questions. Of course, I said. And we were shunted away.
About 30 minutes later, our press officer grabbed me from a room. You’re talking with the magazine reporter now about Himalayan glaciers. And then you’re being interviewed on camera for a public access television show for the New York market.
I sighed: I need to get better at this, I thought. And no time like the present.
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