By Thomas Peretu
Every successful act of communication begins with understanding. It is the compass that provides the road map for every effective message.
Whether in politics, diplomacy, business or war, history is replete with examples of leaders who spoke eloquently but failed because they misunderstood the people they sought to influence. Words, however brilliant, derive their power not from the lips that utter them but from the minds and hearts that receive them.
This truth lies at the heart of political communication. A spokesperson may possess exceptional writing skills, command the media with confidence and enjoy unrestricted access to the corridors of power. Yet all these advantages amount to very little if he cannot correctly read the mood of the people. Communication that ignores its audience is like an arrow shot into the darkness. It may fly with great speed, but it seldom reaches its target.
For this reason, successful political communication begins long before the first press statement is drafted or the first interview is granted. It begins with disciplined observation, thoughtful analysis and a genuine curiosity about people—their hopes and fears, their aspirations and frustrations, their loyalties and prejudices.
In contemporary communication, this process is broadly described as market intelligence and market segmentation.
Readers looking for an elaborate discourse on marketing theory will not find it in these pages. That task belongs to specialists in marketing and consumer behaviour.
The may well consult , Marketing Management by Phillip Kotler and Kevin Lane Keller for independence analysis.
Our concern is far more modest and infinitely more practical. We shall borrow only those principles that help the press secretary, media adviser and political communicator understand the audiences they serve and communicate with greater relevance, credibility and impact.
The central argument of this chapter is straightforward. There is no such thing as “the public.” There are only different publics, each shaped by their own experiences, expectations and interests.
The effectiveness of a political message depends not merely on what is said but on how well the communicator understands the people to whom it is addressed.
One of the earliest lessons I learnt in public service was that communication must always begin with the audience.
This became evident during my years at the Bayelsa State House of Assembly. The Speaker’s constituency was not one audience but many. It comprised villagers concerned about roads and healthcare, women interested in family welfare, youths searching for opportunities, teachers anxious about education, students alive to national issues, traditional rulers and community leaders concerned with development, civil society organisations demanding accountability, party leaders focused on political implications, and journalists looking for news. Although they all had an interest in the affairs of the Assembly, they viewed issues through different lenses. A single press release could not speak to all of them with equal effectiveness. The facts remained constant, but the emphasis often had to change. It was there that I first appreciated the importance of audience segmentation.
My years at the Presidential Amnesty Programme reinforced another important principle. Demography alone is never enough; psychology matters just as much. The principal stakeholders were former agitators, perhaps one of the most sensitive constituencies any spokesperson could encounter. They were not merely beneficiaries of a government programme. They were men whose personal experiences had shaped their perception of government, authority and trust. Communicating with them demanded far more than issuing accurate press statements. It required patience, empathy and credibility.
Yet the former agitators were only one segment of the communication landscape. There were also members of the National Assembly, government ministries and agencies, traditional rulers, oil companies, host communities, the media and the wider Nigerian public. Each group viewed the Amnesty Programme from a different perspective. Every communication therefore, required careful thought about who was receiving the message and how it was likely to be interpreted.
Earlier in my career, while working in tourism and culture, I encountered another communication environment altogether. My audiences included artistes, musicians, curators, cultural organisations, tourism operators, government agencies, private sector sponsors and visitors from within and outside the state.
Once again, the lesson remained the same. The artist sought recognition, the sponsor sought visibility, the tourist sought information, while government expected measurable outcomes. They all had legitimate interests, but they were not necessarily the same interests. Effective communication demanded an understanding of each constituency without compromising the integrity of the message.
My outing at the Peoples Democratic Party was not any different. This was 2006, I had just relocated from Lagos. The work environment was strange and the work ethics totally different. The state exco was always at daggers drawn with each other. Thrre was always a need to issue press statemrnts to clarify issues. And then one day the sledge hammer fell on the state chairman. He was suspended for six months for some perceived infractions. The rest is history.
These experiences taught me that beyond identifying stakeholder groups, the wise spokesperson should also identify influential individuals within those groups. Every organisation, community or institution has men and women whose opinions command unusual respect. Building enduring professional relationships with such people often provides invaluable insights into the mood of their constituencies and opens channels of communication that no official press release can ever achieve.
I learnt this lesson during my years at the Presidential Amnesty Programme. I deliberately cultivated a professional relationship with a member of the House of Representatives. That relationship was built on mutual respect rather than personal convenience or gratification. Years after leaving public office, it continues to yield dividends. Public appointments come and go, but relationships founded on trust and integrity often endure.
Relationships, however, demand discipline. Familiarity must never erode professionalism. A spokesperson who becomes too casual or too eager to please may soon lose the respect that gives those relationships their value. Be approachable, but never careless. Be cordial, but remain disciplined. Otherwise, the very relationships you cultivate may become a source of embarrassment.
Ultimately, market intelligence and market segmentation are not exercises in collecting statistics or classifying audiences. They are exercises in understanding people. The successful spokesperson studies not only the demographics of an audience but also its psychology—its fears, hopes, beliefs, prejudices and aspirations.
People do not respond to facts alone. They interpret facts through the prism of experience.
The spokesperson who fails to understand his audience is like a physician who prescribes before making a diagnosis.
He may possess eloquence, command the media and enjoy the confidence of his principal, yet his words will seldom achieve their purpose. Political communication begins not with speaking but with understanding. It is only after we have identified the audience, studied its composition, appreciated its psychology and earned its confidence that communication can become truly effective.
Distilled Wisdom
Communication begins not with speaking but with understanding.
There is no such thing as “the public.” There are only different publics.
The next chapter examines The Anatomy of Political Communication—the elements, dynamics and relationships that transform information into influence. Having explored the importance of understanding the audience, we shall now turn to the science and art of communicating with it.
By Thomas Peretu and Candido Ibrahim Maiguluma Esq.
