The blogging, twitting, Face Booky armies have now been officially slapped around by the Federal Trade Commission, which has commanded them to disclose “material connections” with the products they talk about.
So, if somebody slips your favorite blogger a free sample or a few bucks or a fat consulting contract, he has to explain that he just loves the product he’s going on and on about — but that love ain’t cheap and there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
I see this as a golden opportunity for Cohen the Columnist. He does not blog (in part, because he believes that computers and cell phones are tools of Satan), and the Hartford Business Journal must have some kind of ethics policy that requires Cohen to disclose employment, contracts or love affairs with people that he writes about.
All this suggested to me, as I sat quietly sipping a MAKER’S MARK BOURBON at MAX DOWNTOWN, that I could probably slip beneath the radar and make a few bucks — which I could immediately invest with BNY MELLON WEALTH MANAGEMENT.
Since it’s not actually a blog, the FTC wouldn’t care, and the editors, being, well, editors, aren’t really smart enough to detect what I would be doing. If you want that kind of forensic work, you need to hire some really smart auditor-type guys from places like WHITTLESEY & HADLEY or KOSTON, RUFFKESS.
No one would know that I’m quietly trolling the mean streets of the city, smartly turned out in clothes from STACKPOLE MOORE & TRYON, looking for important news that might be tweaked, just a bit, for the benefit of those who appreciate what I do.
This would in no way damage my integrity or hard-nosed journalistic instincts. Just because I drive a BUICK, the sort-of-low-key, luxurious, but not flashy dream car of the General Motors portfolio, doesn’t means that I wouldn’t have nice things to say about whatever jalopy someone else might have been tricked into buying.
Apparently, the FTC wants the bloggers to “disclose” payments and stuff, but as a crusading columnist, what am I to make of an investigative journey that happens to take me to CAVEY’S recently reopened shrine to fine French dining in Manchester, downstairs from the always-wonderful Italian portion of the place, where I just happen to be working on a column about wine and stuff? Sure, the guys at CAVEY’S might offer me a few glasses, but their motives are as pure as a fine Bordeaux. We all want good journalism.
Besides, some of this conflict-of-interest stuff is just unavoidable. When I write about Connecticut’s “quality” workforce, it would be clunky of me to explain that the quality is due in no small part to the fact that I teach at the UNIVERSITY OF HARTFORD, where the students benefit from having a god for a professor and, in time, will benefit Connecticut as part of the high-quality workforce.
Of course, there may be a few clients somewhat nervous about walking over to that great CBT bank with me and doing some business. We could work something out.
Have I told you how smart my wife is and what a great corporate board member she would make; or what a wonderful public speaker her husband is, for a big, fat fee?
By the way, next week, I think I’m going to be writing about the best places to work in Greater Hartford. I’ll be doing research at several high-end bars, downtown. Human Resources personnel are invited to join me and share research data about their companies. And I’ll be thirsty.
Laurence D. Cohen is a freelance writer.
