The IT girl: Rubbing egos in the premier league

In this month's column Silicon's very own PR mole, Tiggy Familiar, explains how IT's segue into the media mainstream has turned her industry on its head, and how pushing stories onto IT hacks is slightly less difficult than bazooka-ing fish in a barrel

I don't care how many Joe Pesci films you've seen, you've never heard swearing until you've seen my IT manager, Malcolm, watch a BT commercial. Maybe it's his scientific background that makes him so cynical; my degree in media studies and marketing certainly didn't scar me in the same way. The pedants are likely to watch a TV commercial and ask questions like: "How come the BT/ET family don't support England?" and: "What does that tell us about BT?" And it's left to the other camp, people like moi - the visionaries - to point out: "Guys, guys, guys! calm down - it's only a commercial." You can believe people will dutifully film themselves while fleeing a serial-killing witch through a dark, crowded wood. So why is the idea of BT empowering us with stunning products and friendly service so unpalatable? As we say in PR, is that an initiative you're unable to action? Well, OK, since they're not my client any more, hows about I don't argue with you. Nuff said! But on a serious note, my vision has never been put to a bigger test than this last month. IT was always gradually going mainstream but suddenly everyone's interested. It was a big enough challenge when IT moved out of the advertorial sections of the national papers. I knew I'd made the adjustment when I got my client, Cybercop, quoted in the Guardian Women's Page and the Daily Mail Finance pages simultaneously. The first I pitched with a story about the rise of American cyber-stalkers (angle: coming here soon, and our men are even worse!). Then the Daily Mail ran a lovely business scare story under the headline "Britain's Cybermen Can't Compete," and asked: "Why aren't we producing our own cyber-stalkers?" Now, even the people who think 'anorak' is an original term are suddenly converted. Suddenly, the national papers can't get enough cyber-stories. I'm coming to recognise Janet Street-Porter's ring instinctively. And, being a visionary, I can only see the benefits of putting my clients in front of a whole new crowd of hacks. Some think exposing my clients to inspection by the cream of the nation's journalists is dangerous. Au contraire. The BBC, for example, is packed with arts graduates and the nearest any of them came to a computer at Oxbridge was when they took the college magazine down to Prontaprint. Their understanding of the Internet makes Gerry Spice's role in the United Nations look like a well-defined brief. Bless 'em! Look at the easy ride Jeremy Paxman gave Bill Gates on Newsnight. Jeremy calls many a world leader's bluff but he wasn't going to risk asking Mr Gates thirteen varieties of the same question, was he? Jeremy's maxim is to ask himself: "Why is this lying bastard lying to me?" But put him in front of a man who knows what an operating system is and his mind scrambles like a dropped wasps' nest. Likewise, when the hack from the Guardian Women's Page thoughtfully rubbed her chin over our lunchtime briefing, I knew it wasn't because she thought my man from Cybercop was evading the question. (Later I even got to devise her 'women victimised by computing' angle for her.) Yes, we're playing at the highest level but journalists in the premier league are actually easier to work with. As long as you flatter their egos you can get away with anything. Even that's easier, too. Many an IT hack lacks basic social skills and shrinks from praise like a salted snail. Tell their betters on a broadsheet paper or the BBC, however, that they got where they are today on merit and they'll be eating out of your hands. (Just don't point out that it's on Daddy's merits though.) The Internet has made pundits of us all. Fantastic opportunity for me, by the way, because never has coverage of IT been more marketing driven. It really is the bland leading the blind. It's tempting fate but I can't seem to put a foot wrong at the moment. On Monday I thought I was sending a pitch to the Guardian about women in the computer industry. You know the drill - male domination, institutionalised discrimination, women's achievements overlooked because of their sexuality. Except I got the fax numbers mixed up and it went to the Sun instead. And to my surprise, I ended up with two very positive pieces. The Guardian had Cybercop paying lip service to the dearth of women Web designers. And the Sun ran a very lively upbeat feature, telling how women can use their sexuality to their advantage. And both pieces used the headline from my wrongly faxed, double-whammy pitch: "Whatever women do, they'll always have their knockers." Selling IT has never been easier. You just find out what people want, then tell them you've got it. There's something in it for everyone.