And Dr. Killem goes on to give what he calls a professional statement, so involved and beclouded with high-sounding terms that the poor reporter makes a sorry mess of this part of his story.
Strange as it may seem this is just what Dr. Killem wants. He knows his treatment will not stand a scientific analysis by competent men, and he avoids this by intentionally leading the reporter to misquote. And then it gives him an opportunity to write a letter of protest to the newspaper and thus obtain more publicity.
“I’m chagrined,” Dr. Killem will say to his professional brethren. “That reporter for the Morning Howl has made an ass of me, but I suppose there is no redress. I gave him a few, a very few facts, out of kindness, and he has distorted them and made me ridiculous.”
And all the time Dr. Killem is swelling with pride. He has “put another one over” on the press, and obtained a lot of valuable publicity that he could not have bought outright. Besides he would not think of doing such a thing as to pay for advertising—it would be unethical.
How do you suppose the newspapers get hold of such items? Reporters are a pretty smart lot of men with noses keenly trained on the scent of news. But none of them, so far as known, possesses the gift of being able to tell in advance what is going to occur at a given time. Smart as they are it would be out of the question for them to know that Dr. Soakum had been called out of town, or that Dr. Killem had interesting information to impart to the public, unless they got tips to this effect, and these tips are just exactly what they get.
None of these physicians have press agents. Perish the thought. That would be decidedly unethical, and too clumsily convictive. No siree. They are too smart for that. Most of them, however, especially those who work the press continually, have private secretaries. The private secretary work is light, and is attended to by stenographers and book-keepers, but the title affords a handy cloak for disguising the press agent. Ostensibly engaged as private secretaries the men who fill these positions know full well that their one and only duty is to “boost” the professional prowess of their employers; to keep them constantly before the public.
Frequently this work is done by men who have no open, direct connection with the physicians who employ them; are not even seen around their offices. This is the latest dodge, and is becoming more and more general. It has one decided advantage in the fact that it is impossible to trace any collusion between the party who gives out the news, and the party who is benefited by the publication. It also has a further advantage. It enables the physician to put on an air of surprise, should he be questioned by a brother doctor, and say:
“Smith. Who is he? He is not on my office staff, and is certainly assuming a lot when he pretends to speak for me.”
All of these press agents work on the same lines. They know the avidity with which city editors grab for news, particularly if it concerns prominent people. When the occasion arises they get into communication with some city editor, generally by phone, and a conversation something like the following ensues:
“Hello, that you Brown? This is Jones. Yes, the same, old man. Thanks. I’ve just got onto something that looks like a good tip, and I thought you would like to have it. Dr. Soakum has been called to San Francisco to attend old Moneybags, the trust magnate. If the old chap should die it would raise Old Ned in the stock market. I understand that Soakum goes this afternoon on the U. P. limited. Oh, don’t mention it. I’m glad to be able to give you the tip. Hope you’ll be able to get a story out of it.”