"People want to know one thing," exhales the world-weary communication consultant. "What's in it for me?"
This burlap-clad cliché has bothered me for years, and I only recently put my finger on why: It groundlessly accuses all humanity of being mindlessly selfish. That's a pretty big claim for a communication workshop, isn't it?
"There will never be another me," was what my adman dad said every person's theme song was. He would also dismiss the concerns of people he felt beneath him with the phrase: "little people, little lives." Dad could be a real snot. Like a lot of advertising people, I guess.
It's easy, as a mass communicator, to become a snot. H.L. Mencken used to write controversial columns with the sole intent, as he plainly put it, to "stir up the animals."
But sweeping snottiness is dangerous. "Basket of deplorables," anyone?
Writers should err on the side of seeing in ourselves, everyone else—and vice versa. My first boss Larry Ragan wrote that the writer who imagines that readers have different basic interests or feelings or thoughts than he does "is in more trouble than he knows."
And in the end, despite my dad's occasional arrogance, his stated communication philosophy was, "We are all the same." Which isn't true, either. But which is the side of the flag on which to miss.
So when somebody says that the only thing people want to know is what's in it for them, it reminds me of political partisans who express exasperation that the unwashed masses of "don't vote their interests."
Well, do you always vote your interests? Or, rather, do you in fact take pride in voting your ideals and values—often in conflict with your financial or practical interests. You want to pay higher taxes, to fund better schools. So why should everyone on the other side vote their interests, like dogs for extra bowls of food?
And those people who you accuse of asking only, "What's in it for me?"
Aren't they more like you? And don't you ask, when deciding to read or buy or believe or vote for a thing, ask yourself a more generous question: "What's in it for me—and my family and my friends and my community and my country and my world?"
Why do you think you're the world's only altruist?
Mike Klein says
Have a similar dislike for the concept but a different take: https://changingtheterms.com/2016/09/
David Murray says
Great minds think alike even when they don’t! Another great take, Mike.
WIIFM is a blockheaded over-simplicity, perhaps well-meaning in its origin, as communicators tried to remind out-of-touch corporate bosses that what was good for General Motors wasn’t necessarily good for (or fascinating to) every front-line factory worker.
But even GM’s bosses know that by now … don’t they?
Shel Holtz says
In reporting company news, I agree, there is no need to consider why an employee should care. When communicating, say, organizational change, it’s another matter. This goes far being simple reporting. You have an ask, a call to action. The company wants something from the employee and usually, there’s some pain or sacrifice involved. Helping employees understand the benefit of supporting the change is essential. Carrying the example further, a one-size-fits-all communication is rarely useful, since what’s in it for a headquarters executive is likely to be different than what’s in it for someone who goes down into a mine every day, leading to the need for a communication strategy rather than just publishing an article that outlines the change and asks everyone to get on board. That need is also supported by the fact that different employees will have different reasons to resist the change. Again, in this kind of circumstance, it’s clear that addressing the WIIFM is a requirement.
David Murray says
Point taken, but of course I’m not telling companies to AVOID helping employees see how they benefit personally from a change, for instance. But I’m telling them employees—like executives, we’d hope—have a broader view than “me.”
Coal miners being furloughed may have a hard time summoning give-a-fucks about the global economy (although I think they DO understand these market forces better than they get credit for).
But when you’re communicating to them, you would rightly assume that they care about how the change will affect their colleagues, their families, their communities, their way of life, their cultural tradition and even their dead ancestors in the cemetery. (How often do you hear, “Daddy would be rolling in his grave if he could see this.”)
Their Paradise, and Prine put it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEy6EuZp9IY
And to sum up their interest, whatever your motivation for doing so, as simply a self-interested WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME—I think that’s insulting, however unintentionally.