A friend who was a provincial institutional communicator complained for a while about the number of reports she had to do each month. Worst of all, he says, is that the papers came from his job, even though in real life they had little or nothing to do with his duties.

“They ask me about the number of tweets I make,” he said, “posts I upload, how many times I share boss content or mine, messages I post in two Telegram channels and WhatsApp groups. But luckily they put it on me a few days ago.”

The good (or cap on the pen) was that, according to the directive signed by her minister, she (alone, herself) had to monitor the status of opinions on the Internet (good, human and divine): determine their number, analyze them, sort and send in a report with well-placed points in advance.

Was it your job? What about public attention? All this plus what I already had in my plans: to prepare any ceremony that existed, with a script, flag and sound.

What appeared to be a single moment was soon spilled out by another communicator, even more suffering: “I’m already going through nine reports this week. But whoever comes, he said, will have to attend to others; and at the end of the month I must draw up one with tables, graphs, photographs and comparisons in relation to the previous month, with what has been done this year, and in relation to what has been done last year.

“At what time do you communicate for real?” he was asked. That is, writing information and interviews, preparing podcasts and videos, coordinating the management and production of content by experts, interacting with the public, thinking, imagining, and so on. The answer was direct and indistinct: “No, I don’t want to.” He made a disconsolate face and asked: “What time is it?”

So many snails ringing in the same direction send a strong signal that the world that wants to be born in Cuba, the world of institutional communication in the broadest sense of the word, is being murdered and moored by bureaucracy and excesses. control.

As they would say in observing the cartoon scenario: the cat hides the bell in some corner of the house.

Not that this is desirable – judging by the documents, the most recently passed law, and the stated intentions – but ignorance, improvisation, and methods of calculation carry weight over the years and may even end up directing actions beyond the established desire, even if they are the best.

A pattern of the problem, among many others, can be seen in the overview of the content of institutions in that large digital galaxy, sometimes quite slippery, that is, the Internet and its social networks. They seem to be branches of a historical research center due to the number of reminders of ephemeris or places for acts of homage.

On the other hand, in many cases there is a lack of agreed messages that would tell what these organizations and their companies are doing in terms of services, social orientation or innovation in their fields.

This personification of messages gives us the suspicion that the philosophy of the murals has been transferred to social networks, at the risk of slipping into the slopes of simplification.

The point in this fear is the content itself: too impersonal, grayer than a winter morning, very in the third person and so announcing that they meet or are in a certain place that they lose the opportunity to indicate, provide data, give their opinion, mark the negative and highlight the positive. In other words: move. But not in the style of a pink romance, in which everything is love and kisses, but in an elegant style that arises from the knowledge of language and culture.

And if you want to check, watch quietly in your free time. Because next to the little things and scripts you will surely find, without much harshness, as expected, what can be achieved when you put in, yes, your soul and heart; but also something very necessary: ​​the head.

Source: Juventud Rebelde