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Subject: AEJ 98 FleischD PR D. E. Fleischman: Uncharted waters
From: Elliott Parker <[log in to unmask]>
Reply-To:AEJMC Conference Papers <[log in to unmask]>
Date:Sat, 6 Feb 1999 18:04:59 EST
Content-Type:TEXT/PLAIN
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Parts/Attachments

TEXT/PLAIN (1116 lines)


Learning to Swim Skillfully in Uncharted Waters:
Doris E. Fleischman, 1913-1922
 
 
 
 
by Susan Henry,
Professor of Journalism
California State University, Northridge,
Northridge, CA 91330-8311
(818) 677-3135
 
 
 
 
 
Learning to Swim Skillfully in Uncharted Waters:
Doris E. Fleischman, 1913-1922
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ABSTRACT
 
 
        Between 1913 and 1922, public relations began to be established as a profession
and the life of one of its previously unacknowledged pioneers-Doris E.
Fleischman-changed in remarkable ways.  This paper charts Fleischman's early
career as a newspaper reporter and then as the first employee hired by Edward L.
Bernays.  It describes some of their early campaigns and the growing
collaboration between them until 1922, when she became an equal partner in the
firm of Edward
L. Bernays, Counsel on Public Relations.
 
 
 
        When she graduated from Barnard College in spring 1913, Doris E. Fleischman
said, she was "shoved into the ocean without having learned to swim."[1]
Although she was a talented singer and athlete, she had never read a newspaper,
knew little about the world and felt "bewildered" when her father asked her what
she planned to do after graduation.  At age 21, she knew she would "do
something" but had no clear idea what that would be and no confidence that she
was prepared for any career at all.[2]
        A decade later, she was excelling in a profession that had not been invented
when she graduated from college and leading a life that would have been
unimaginable to her at that earlier time.  In September 1922 she became an equal
partner, with its founder, in one of the country's earliest and most successful
public relations agencies, having first helped it thrive as a publicity service
and then evolve into a public relations firm.  She did this with almost no
public recognition, in contrast to the firm's founder, Edward L. Bernays, who
cultivated the limelight from the start and, throughout his career, received
sole credit for the agency's accomplishments.  When he died in 1995, the
headline of his New York Times obituary labeled him the "father of public
relations."[3]  But his partnership with Fleischman in the birth and development
of this new field has only recently been acknowledged.[4]
        This paper looks at the beginnings of Fleischman's career and the beginnings of
the field she helped form, providing new understanding of public relations'
early years.  These years have not yet been well documented, in part because the
behind-the-scenes nature of much of the work carried out has made it difficult
to study.  Similarly, although the advantages of collaboration in today's public
relations activities are widely understood, little is known about the ways early
collaborators worked together because their even further-behind-the-scenes
interactions make them doubly difficult to research.  And while the
contributions of numerous individual men to the development of public relations
have been at least broadly sketched, women's early work rarely has been studied.
        This period is a significant one for understanding Fleischman as an individual
as well as the patterns of what was to become her 62-year-long collaboration
with Bernays.  Because their business was relatively simple when it began and
much of her work was precisely defined, it is much easier to identify her skills
and responsibilities then than it is during the remainder of their partnership,
when their work essentially merged.  Separating out key components of her work
at this time reveals what she brought to the business from the start and how she
helped it develop.  Several new findings also correct inaccurate claims by
Fleischman and Bernays about her work both before and after they joined
together.
        Utilization of a range of sources made it possible to chart the work Flesichman
and Bernays carried out preceding their partnership, growth of and changes in
their new agency, their development of public relations techniques that were to
become mainstays, and some of the reasons their early collaboration was so
successful.  Searches of two archival collections-one at the Library of Congress
and the other at the Schlesinger Library on the History of Women at Radcliffe
College-yielded client files, business and personal correspondence, written
reminiscences, business records and other relevant materials.  The author's
numerous interviews with Bernays and the couple's two daughters offered
additional perspectives.  Also utilized were a Columbia University oral history
of Bernays, books and articles written by Fleischman and Bernays, secondary
sources that shed light on particular campaigns, and public relations histories.
 
1913 to 1919: From Little Direction to Publicity Direction
        Fleischman's life changed greatly during the period of this study largely due
to fundamental career decisions made by her friend, Edward Bernays.  First, in
1913 he stumbled into work as a theatrical press agent.  While editing two small
medical magazines, he also ingeniously promoted a controversial play about
syphilis, "Damaged Goods," which a physician had praised in one of his
magazines.[5]  He later explained the effect of this experience:   "I had had so
much pleasure from what I had done that I said to myself, 'This is what I want
to do.'  I became a press agent."[6]
        For the next five years he had a highly successful career publicizing Broadway
plays, actors, musical  performers such as Enrico Caruso, and-during three years
that he said "taught me more about life than I have learned from politics,
books, romance, marriage and fatherhood in the years since-Diaghilev's Ballet
Russe.  He described this work as "one thrill after another" and loved what he
did.  Yet clearly as exciting to him as the glamour and sophistication of the
performing arts world was his own success.  He had found his calling and quickly
learned that he was very good at it.[7]
        But he happily stopped this work in June 1918 when he joined the many
journalists, press agents and advertising people working for the U.S. Committee
on Public Information.  Headed by George Creel, this huge propaganda operation
was extraordinarily effective in building nationwide public support for this
country's World War I efforts and spreading U.S. government views to the rest of
the world.  Bernays worked out of the New York office of the CPI Foreign Press
Bureau, until, when the war ended in November, he went to the Paris for the
Versailles Peace Conference as part of the official press mission.[8]
        The CPI has been widely credited with vividly demonstrating the power of
organized, well-funded public opinion manipulation.  The general public
increasingly became aware of this power, as did businesses and other
organizations.  And many of the people who had worked for the CPI  were
particularly struck by its effectiveness, Bernays among them.[9]  He also was
affected by his experiences at the Peace Conference.  "Paris was swarming with
ethnic entities that had been promised independence in Wilson's Fourteen
Points," he explained, and "I couldn't but observe the tremendous emphasis the
small nations of the world placed on public opinion."  Having "seen this world
picture emphasizing the power of words and ideas," he decided that when he
returned to New York in March 1919 he "would go into an activity that dealt with
this force of ideas to affect attitudes."[10]
        Bernays's CPI connections soon resulted in contracts to do publicity work for
two organizations.  On March 20 the Lithuanian National Council hired him to
help in its efforts to obtain U.S. support for recognition of the country as an
independent republic, and ten weeks later he began to work with the U.S. War
Department on its campaign for the re-employment of former servicemen.  He
initially operated just as
he had as a theatrical press agent-out of his clients' offices or his parents'
home, where he lived.  On July 28, 1919, though, he made a second career change
when
he opened his own office.  That same day, he hired Doris Fleischman as a staff
writer.[11]
        In 1919 Fleischman had much less to show for the preceding years than did her
new boss.  After graduating from college in 1913, she apparently worked as a
fundraiser and publicist for a charity on New York's lower east side.[12]  The
next year, Bernays helped her get a job at the New York Tribune, where she began
as a women's page writer, then was promoted to assistant women's page editor and
assistant Sunday editor.  Sometimes writing as many as three long feature
stories a week, she interviewed many well-known people, traveled to San
Francisco to report on the Women's Peace Conference at the 1915 Panama-Pacific
International Exposition, and was the first woman to cover a prize fight for a
major newspaper.  Although she seems to have greatly enjoyed this work and done
well at it, she left the Tribune sometime in 1916.[13]
        Exactly when and why she left remains a mystery.  In interviews Bernays was
very reluctant to acknowledge that she stopped working at the Tribune before
1919, while in her own published and unpublished writings and in interviews,
Fleischman seldom admitted that  she left before this date.  One friend from the
1970s with whom she sometimes discussed her early career speculates that she
left for family reasons.[14]  This interpretation makes sense and helps explain
her reticence in discussing this period of her life.
        In 1916 she was living at home with her parents.  Her mother, Harriet Rosenthal
Fleischman, was a pleasant, compliant woman-in many ways a typical
late-Victorian upper-middle-class wife and mother-while her father, Samuel E.
Fleischman, was a very rigid, authoritarian man who exerted firm control over
his family.  A prominent lawyer who was conservative in most of his views, he
nonetheless encouraged Doris to go to a good college and then get a job when she
graduated-but she did not accept the offer from the Tribune until she had asked
his permission to do so.  And, fearful that she would be hurt, he accompanied
her when she covered the prize fight.[15]   Her father was by far the strongest
force in her life, and she certainly would have left the Tribune if that was
what he wanted.
         Just slightly more is known about her professional life following her
departure from the Tribune.  Only after much prodding did Bernays eventually
reveal that she carried out a long study of philanthropy for the Baron de Hirsch
fund and also did some freelance publicity and fundraising work.[16]  One client
for which she apparently did considerable work was a hospital, the Spring Street
Infirmary, which she later called "a terrible place."[17]  None of this work
seems to have been very satisfying, and it certainly was a step down from the
Tribune.  She must have been delighted when Bernays offered her a full-time
position in July 1919.
        Both Fleischman and Bernays consistently asserted that he hired her directly
away from the Tribune in 1919.  This claim both obscures how she spent the three
years after she left the Tribune and neglects to recognize one additional
freelance job she had during this time.   A careful examination of the work
Bernays carried out for both the Lithuanian National Council and the War
Department in spring and early summer 1919 reveals that Fleischman wrote press
releases for him before he opened his own office and hired her.[18]
        Certainly she was a logical choice.  She was looking for freelance work  and
Bernays had thought she was a talented writer since reading her high school
fiction.  They had lived around the corner from each other (he on West 106th
Street, she on West 107th Street) since 1912, he had helped her make the
contacts that led to her Tribune job, and she had gone with him to see "Damaged
Goods" and other theatrical productions he promoted.[19]  She also said that,
during the time he edited the two medical magazines, "I wrote reviews and
stories for him for fun."[20]
        At the same time, his work was extensive enough to require help.  In addition
to organizing promotional events for the Lithuanian National Council, he had
agreed to produce six press releases a week, which often required extensive
research.  His War Department work was more sophisticated and complex, involving
the production of new programs, slogans and large numbers of press releases.
For both clients, he had the releases typeset, bound into pads, and sent to
newspapers and other publications ready of reproduction, so he also had to work
extensively with printers and mailers.  He was quite well-paid-receiving $150 a
week from the Lithuanian National Council and $100 (plus a large expense budget)
from the War Department-so he could afford to pay a freelancer.[21]
        By the end of July, he also realized he could afford to rent his own three-room
office on the fifth floor of an old building at 19 East 48th Street.  He
calculated his first month's expenses for rent and furniture at $1,357.  And his
first employee, Fleischman, was a bargain at $50 a week.  She quickly helped him
hire a secretary, a mail clerk, an office boy, and his brother-in-law Murray C.
Bernays, who was paid $75 a week to do research and some writing.[22]
        Fleischman later blamed herself for not asking for a higher salary (she
actually had requested $45), but said she knew little about money since she
lived at home and her father supported her.  Her salary "was extra and
unimportant."[23]  That for three years she had had no full-time job, and
probably minimal freelance income, also may have led her to give little thought
to her salary when she was offered this position as a writer.  (In fairness, it
is possible that she might not have asked for more even if she had carefully
considered her situation.  A 1921 book on professional women noted that salaries
for "experienced publicity consultants" were "around $50 a week, and are said to
be about ten per cent lower than those for men."[24]   A  1920 book on careers
for women quoted a "director of one publicity agency" as saying that women
"free-lance workers" could earn from $50-100 a week.[25]  When she left the
Tribune, Fleischman had been making $22 a week.)[26]
        Bernays had struggled with what to call his new business, finally settling on
"Edward L. Bernays Publicity Direction."  He hoped this would differentiate him
from press agents by indicating that he would "direct actions of my client to
get publicity and win public support."[27]  But much of his work during the rest
of 1919 seems to have been little different from his pre-war press-agent
activities in which he simply called attention to his clients (albeit often
cleverly).  One reason for this may have been that he had numerous theatrical
clients. "I accepted these assignments because I was not yet well enough
established not to," he explained.  Other clients that year included the
American Civil Liberties Union, Best Foods Company (for which they helped launch
a new salad oil), and the Federation for the Support of Jewish Philanthropies
(which was conducting a large fundraising drive).  The Lithuanian National
Council and War Department continued as clients through the summer.[28]  By the
end of December, he had ten employees and had earned about $11,000.[29]
 
Publicity and "Aggressive Publishing"
        His largest client during that first year, and the one for whom he worked the
longest, was the book publisher Boni and Liveright.  An examination of portions
of this campaign is useful because they typify key strategies Bernays and
Fleischman were to use for the more than a decade and show how well-developed
these strategies were at the start of their business.  Specific contributions by
Fleischman also can easily be identified.
         Fleischman seems to have played a role in obtaining this client, since Bernays
was introduced to Horace Liveright, the owner of the firm, by her much-adored
older brother, Leon.  A poet and former newspaper reporter, Leon had recently
bought into the firm as a vice-president and also served as its secretary and
treasurer.  Whatever Doris Fleischman's role, the match was an excellent one.
Horace Liveright, who hired Bernays in fall 1919, was a daring young publisher
who was willing to gamble on unknown authors and controversial books. He had
recently lured a few established authors like Theodore Dreiser to his firm, but
he also was anxious to publish works by the Greenwich Village intellectuals who
had been ignored by his rival publishers, among whom he had a reputation as a
political radical.[30]
        "Other publishers deplored him, some envied him, and all had to admire his
list," according to book historian John Tebbel.  "If Liveright did not invent
the literary renaissance of the twenties, he was at least its chief
conductor."[31]  And he was enthusiastic about breaking the old, staid molds of
book publishing as well as the musty conventions of bookselling.  He had, in
Bernays's words, "faith in aggressive publishing."  Bernays, in turn, was "eager
to try out our strategies and tactics on books." He believed "books should
respond more quickly to our techniques than almost any other commodity."[32]
        During the year-long campaign, Bernays and Fleischman focused on expanding the
book-reading public beyond the narrow audience previously identified by most
publishers.  They prepared an attractive supplementary catalog highlighting the
most important books-those that would be discussed wherever "men and women who
are interested in life and the books that express life, gather"-and bombarded
300 bookstores with weekly circulars on different books.  In addition to sending
out constant short press releases, they offered 100 feature articles related to
Boni and Liveright books to newspapers throughout the country.[33]  Editors
first received brief synopses of articles "prepared for your free publication by
our Doris Fleischman, who was until recently on the staff of the New York
Tribune, and by other experienced feature writers."  They returned postcards
indicating the articles they wanted, which were sent to them.[34]
        A small number of books were singled out for special publicity efforts.  One
was Christopher Morley and Bart Haley's satire on Prohibition, In the Sweet Dry
and Dry.  Copious feature stories and shorter releases were supplemented by the
creation of a booklovers' tavern in New York's Majestic Hotel, whose bar had
been closed by Prohibition.  Books replaced bottles behind the bar while other
Boni and Liveright authors, as well as the president of the New York County
chapter of the Women's Christian Temperance Union, were in attendance at its
well-covered opening.[35]  This was a good example of a frequently used
technique that Bernays variously labeled "the overt act," "created
circumstances" and "the created event."  As he explained it in 1923, with such
activities the public relations counsel "is not merely the purveyor of news; he
is more logically the creator of news."[36]
        The campaign for Iron City by M. H. Hedges illustrates another technique-the
"segmental approach-that Bernays and Fleischman went on to repeatedly use.
As Bernays described this strategy, it required the practitioner to "subdivide
the
appeal of his subject and present it through the widest possible variety of
avenues to the public."[37]  Set on a college campus, Iron City dealt with a
wide range of issues
that Fleischman addressed in features with titles such as "Can the College Woman
Love?", "Big Business and the American College-What Will Happen When the Two are
Divorced?" and "Soldier Presidents-Will the World Produce Another Crop of
Military Chief Executives?" (the college president in the novel had a military
background).  One release even asked the question, "Are the Children of College
Parents Puny?"[38]
          Other releases connected the book to current news events, including fall 1919
strikes in the coal industry and a professors strike at the Carnegie Institute
in Pittsburgh (the book portrayed a professors strike).  Author Hedges was asked
to identify college professors who would be willing to talk with newspaper
reporters about issues raised in the novel, letters extolling the book were sent
to teachers unions, and attempts were made to obtain cooperative publicity with
the Stutz Motor Car Company and Chicago's Marshall Field and Company (both
prominently mentioned in the book).[39]
        Another strategy effectively utilized in their work for Boni and Liveright was
the association of specific books with well-known people-whether or not they had
any real connection to the books.  Thus, for example, to call attention to
Adriana Spadoni's The Swing of the Pendulum, a novel dealing with a professional
woman and her lovers, releases were prepared describing contemporary women
activists like Alice Duer Miller and Helen Rogers Reid.  Similarly, anarchist
writer Hutchins Hapgood's serious novel, The Story of a Lover (written
anonymously), was publicized with quotes from movie stars like Mary Pickford and
Lillian Gish, who had supplied Bernays with their definitions of love.  Within
six months, 11,000 copies were sold.[40]
        This campaign bears examination in part because of its effects.  Intellectual
historian Ann Douglas said that it "made sellers out of books that were not
natural sellers" and proved it was possible to "create market receptivity and
revenue."[41]  Not everything they tried was successful, and no doubt much of
this steady stream of publicity was ignored.  But they did succeed in helping to
widen the appeal of books, and certainly excitement was generated for some Boni
and Liveright titles that otherwise would have received little attention.
Horace Liveright must have believed these kinds of actions were productive, for
during the remainder of the decade he went on to spend over a million dollars
promoting his books through public relations and advertising.[42]
        More important, many other publishers began to adopt much more dynamic sales
techniques aimed at broader audiences, while new companies publishing books for
previously neglected markets were born.  Bookselling changed.[43]  By the end of
the decade, according to John Tebbel, "Publishers were at last convinced of the
value of promotion and publicity, much more so than they had been before the
war, and for the first time they were willing to spend money on it."[44]
 
"A Nose for News and a Steady Compulsion to Write"
        Bernays later wrote, "My work with Liveright represented a divide between what
I had done-my press-agentry, publicity, publicity direction-and what I now
attempted to do: counsel on public relations."[45]  In 1920 Fleischman played
one significant role in this change when she helped him coin the phrase "counsel
on public relations" to describe what they saw as a new role:  "giving
professional advice to our clients on their public relationships, regardless of
whether such advice resulted in publicity."[46]  Bernays frequently credited
Fleischman with being co-creator of this new title, also noting that she had
earlier helped him develop the label "publicity direction" for the services he
provided when he opened his office in 1919.[47]
        She called on different talents in 1920 when Bernays was hurriedly hired by the
National Association for the Advancement of Colored People to stage a campaign
for its Atlanta national convention, planned for late May and early June.  This
was the first NAACP convention even held in the South, and the decision to meet
in Atlanta had been controversial among the organization's members.  The city
had been the scene of fierce race riots in 1906, lynchings and mob violence had
increased since that time, and antagonism against local NAACP chapters had grown
in other areas of the South.[48]
        When the regular NAACP publicity person became ill, Bernays was hired in early
May to take over publicity efforts.  Neither Bernays nor Fleischman knew much
about the problems faced by American blacks, particularly in the South, and
because the convention would begin soon, they had to act quickly, with little
time for planning.  Their only instructions were to get extensive good publicity
into Southern newspapers (most of which had previously shown little support for
the NAACP).  Otherwise, they were on their own.[49]
        Bernays stayed in New York to work with Northern media and sent Fleischman by
herself to Atlanta.  Since they knew little about the situation in the city, her
job was essentially to be an advance person-to "probe the territory from the
standpoint of public opinion" and also, Bernays said, "to make arrangements for
news coverage and to try to assure that some top Georgian political figures
would attend our meetings so that we could publicize the sanction our cause was
receiving in Atlanta by their presence."[50]
        Bernays explained that he had believed Fleischman was well-suited for this job
because she would be able to avoid antagonizing the people she was trying to
persuade to take actions they no doubt would have preferred not to take.  He
also thought the people she encountered would like her.[51]  She first met with
the city's mayor and the state's governor.  According to Bernays, after the
governor warned Fleischman that he thought whites were likely to cause trouble,
she asked him to put the National Guard on reserve, which he did by phone as she
sat in his office.  Still, neither he nor the mayor agreed to attend the
convention (the mayor did send an official welcome).[52]
        She had more success when she next met with men at Atlanta's daily newspapers
and wire service bureaus.  They all agreed to either cover conference meetings
or write reports based on news releases they received.  The Atlanta
Constitution's city editor both consulted with Fleischman on how to cover what
was for him an unusual event and asked her to provide stories on individual
meetings as well as interviews with key participants.  All of these media went
on to provide substantial positive coverage.[53]  According to Fleischman,
"Their calm and matter-of-fact handling helped to make the community accept this
invasion from the North quietly."[54]
        Fleischman had received no NAACP briefing on the likely situation in Atlanta
and was, Bernays said, "oblivious to the dangers of her mission."[55]  Indeed,
it was many years before she learned from NAACP secretary Walter White that she
had been accompanied by a four-man bodyguard each time she left her hotel.
Branded a "nigger lover" by some whites, she also had failed to notice the men
standing around the hotel lobby who threw pennies at her feet to tell her they
thought she was no better than a prostitute who would sell herself for
pennies.[56]  She did express her relief that the city had stayed calm in a news
release she prepared after the convention had ended.  "Atlanta is breathing
easier now . . . and so are the delegates," she wrote.  She quoted one delegate
as saying she couldn't wait to get home because "I feel as if I were sitting on
a volcano."[57]
        Bernays met her in Atlanta during the week of the convention and together they
worked out a plan to guide their remaining work.  After deciding on a "publicity
platform" stating three themes they would stress in their releases, they set
about "preparing copy for the newspapers under constant deadlines."[58]  Mary
White Ovington, the NAACP chairman of the board who attended the conference,
said that their  technique "was to make friends with the reporters and do all
their work."[59]  They also telegraphed stories to New York and Chicago
newspapers, inserting quotes supporting the NAACP's goals that they previously
had obtained from prominent clergy.[60]
        Their efforts appear to have been successful.  Ovington remarked with surprise
at "how fully and correctly the Atlanta Constitution reported our meetings."[61]
NAACP Assistant Secretary Walter White told Bernays, "The amount of publicity
secured, largely through your efforts, was greater than at any other of the ten
conferences preceding, although all of these conferences were held in northern
cities."[62]  Similarly, The Nation reported that this convention had received
more publicity than any held previously, while Bernays said the wire services
and Atlanta newspapers provided particularly positive coverage.[63]
        The convention also had strong personal meaning for Fleischman.  When the
meetings were over, she and Bernays met members of the NAACP Northern delegation
at the Atlanta railroad station and she insisted on joining the black delegates
in the Jim Crow sleeping car for the trip north, even though it was illegal.[64]
Forty years later, she said of her Atlanta experience, "No work I have ever done
has had so deep and lasting an effect on me."[65]
        Her work for other clients was more routine, but they did keep her very busy
writing and placing stories.  She described herself during this time as having
"a nose for news and a steady compulsion to write."[66]  A fast writer (and
typist) with an exceptional vocabulary, she also was an excellent editor.  She
often wrote between 15 and 20 stories a week, then took them to newspaper
offices and worked to get them placed.  Bernays said she was good at placing
because, if editors wanted changes, she was able to quickly modify what she had
written for them.[67]
        Clients added in 1920 and 1921 included several theatrical producers and
performers, Good Housekeeping  and Cosmopolitan magazines, Cartier jewelers, the
Waldorf Astoria Hotel, the Dort Motor Company, an accounting firm, a clothing
company, and the National Council of American Importers and Traders.[68]  Their
first "big business client," in Bernays's words, was the U.S. Radium
Corporation, which hired them in 1920 to promote radium's luminous properties
for commercial use and its application in cancer therapy.  Fleischman's stories,
which were distributed in printed clip sheets for immediate use, had  titles
like "The Royal Jewel of Today," "Radium Becoming a Household Aid" and "Radium
Bank for Those Who Bank on Radium."[69]  The latter story described a service
their client had established at their suggestion: a national radium bank, which
made radium accessible to physicians treating cancer patients (and in the
process called attention to the medicinal value of radium).[70]
        In addition to doing extensive writing during this time, Fleischman was the
firm's office manager.  From the start, Bernays said, she was "the balance wheel
of our operation."[71]  Thus she interviewed all job candidates, set up
schedules, charted the work being done for different clients, kept the books and
paid bills.[72]  One of the few surviving office memos between Fleischman and
Bernays from this time period nicely illustrates some of her responsibilities.
Probably written by Fleischman in early 1921 when she planned to be briefly
absent, it brought Bernays up to date on their campaigns for four key clients,
left instructions for following up on specific tasks, explained the work others
in the office would carry out, detailed checks received and bills due, and said
that monthly vouchers had not yet been checked, but "Please do not do anything
about this until I get back, because I'm not happy unless I do it myself."[73]
No wonder Bernays asserted that her work "took the burden off me."[74]  She
certainly knew much more about how their office operated than he did.
 
Collaboration and a Changing Business
        Fleischman likely took care of many of the details when in 1921 they moved from
their three cramped rooms in an old building to newer, larger, more attractive
offices at a "prime address" on 46th Street and Fifth Avenue.[75]  With the move
she gained her own office, rather than sharing a crowded space outside of
Bernays's office with other staff members, as she had previously.[76]
Apparently, though, their staff stayed the same size it had been in 1919, when
Bernays had ten employees. [77]
        Their staff may not have increased but their income certainly had.  When they
began, they tried to set their rates at a minimum of $75 a week (the Lithuanian
National Council paid twice that).  In the early 1920s, they were earning
between $12,000 and $25,000 a year from most clients.[78]  They certainly were
able to afford nicer quarters, particularly since their business was expanding.
Clients added in 1922 included Macy's department store, the Hotel Association of
New York (which hired them to publicize New York as a friendly place to visit),
the McAlpin Hotel, the National Prosperity Bureau, and numerous performers and
event organizers.[79]  By that year, Bernays noted, "our office had worked out
effective approaches to publicizing inventions and discoveries."[80]
        Occasionally, Fleischman was in charge of entire small campaigns.  For example,
in January 1921 she planned, carried out all of the publicity for and worked
closely with the organizers of two charity fundraisers.  Her earlier fundraising
work must have made these kinds of activities very familiar to her.  The first
event was a musical review presented by the Cardiac Committee of the Public
Education Association; the other, for which she obtained excellent advance
coverage, was a symphony concert at Carnegie Hill to benefit the Babies Hospital
of New York.[81]  All surviving news releases for the latter activity were
identified as "From Doris E. Fleischman, 19 East 48th Street."  They contained
no reference to Bernays.[82]
        These are among the few examples of client contact that can be found for
Fleischman.  Indeed, Bernays repeatedly maintained that she never had client
contacts.[83]  However, it appears that, particularly in the early 1920s, she
did sometimes have these contacts.  For example, in 1922, she made the initial
contact and then met with the publisher of American Agriculturist to plan a
campaign for his weekly magazine.  Her notes from the meeting show that, among
other things, she suggested ways of attracting more young readers through new
kinds of stories and the formation of boys' and girls' clubs, proposed a new
name for the magazine's testing department that would sound more scientific,
advised that they carry more articles about new patents, since this might
encourage new advertising, and  recommended that well-known public officials be
solicited for articles, which then could be widely distributed to media
organizations and interest groups.[84]
        A year later, when she traveled to Europe by herself, she met with a French
colonial official to work out a plan for "tout le service de publicite en vue
d'une campagne de propaganda intensive," which would promote U.S. tourism to
North Africa.[85]  Since part of the purpose of her European trip was to see
business and government officials who could help the firm, it seems likely that
she made other client contacts there as well.  Much later, Bernays denied that
she met with any clients on this trip-although that may simply be traced to
faulty memory.[86]
        There is no doubt, though, that even in the early 1920s she had scant client
contact.  This was despite her extensive knowledge of public relations tactics
and her demonstrated competence in working with people outside their agency.  In
addition to having been the contact person for a few small clients, she had
worked successfully with New York newspaper editors as a "placer" and had been
persuasive with the Atlanta editors making decisions about NAACP coverage.
        She offered her own explanation for her lack of client contacts when she wrote:
"Many men resented having women tell them what to do in their business.  They
resented having men tell them, too, but advice from a woman was somewhat
demeaning."  She feared "if ideas were considered first in terms of my sex, they
might never get around to being judged on their merits."[87]  In his
autobiography Bernays closely echoed her explanation, using similar words to
explain why clients didn't meet with Fleischman.[88]
        Yet in interviews he gave a more pragmatic reason:  "If it had been known I was
linked up with a woman, I would have been considered an imbecile or somebody
strange."  Indeed, he believed that if her involvement had been known "when we
started in 1919, it would have meant, I am sure, that we wouldn't have had any
clients at all."[89]  He also maintained that, since she was a woman, most
clients wouldn't have believed her, so it made no sense for her to work directly
with them.  Rather, her good ideas should be filtered through him so that they
would be accepted.[90]
        Certainly she became more qualified to advise clients in the early 1920s as
she spent less time writing and more time working with Bernays on campaign
strategizing.  "I decided early on that writing was the least important part of
public relations," Bernays explained.[91]   Her said that about two years after
they began,  they realized that "actions spoke louder than words" and "changed
from thinking that announcements to people were of value."  As a result,
Fleischman's writing skills became much less valuable than her ability to
"originate and develop programs for action."  She thus wrote fewer and fewer
news releases, Bernays said, since "I found her brain was a much greater talent
than her writing, because as we moved along from that early period, we gave
advice, and the advice is what they paid us for."[92]
        Bernays was not able to explain precisely when these changes occurred and the
written record is sketchy, but it does show Fleischman continuing to write and
place stories at least as late as 1922.[93]  Still, he was adamant that, from
the firm's beginnings in 1919, the two of them developed campaigns together.  As
Bernays put
it, "I had the advantage of [Fleischman] having a mind that I thought was as
good as mine that I could always play with" in campaign development.  After he
met with clients, the two often brainstormed  together-suggesting alternatives,
identifying critical issues, speculating on outcomes, critiquing each other's
ideas, talking  through possible strategies.[94]  And clearly, one reason they
were able to increasingly offer advice was that Bernays had someone with whom to
collaborate in forming complex plans.
        One additional change in 1922 can be much more precisely identified.  On
September 22, 1922, Fleischman and Bernays were married, and shortly afterwards
they signed legal documents making each of them an equal partner in the firm of
Edward L. Bernays, Counsel on Public Relations.[95]   They both came to refer to
their life and work together after this time as their "twenty-four-hour-a-day
partnership."  It continued until Fleischman's death in July 1980.
Conclusions: "The Best Move I Ever Made"
        Forty years after beginning his new firm, Bernays looked back over his career
and wrote that hiring Fleischman in 1919 was "the best move I ever made in my
life."[96]  This paper has shown some of the ways Bernays benefited from that
decision during his firm's beginnings and early growth as well as the ways that
decision changed Fleischman's life.
        In 1919 and 1920, when much of their work involved gaining publicity for their
clients through press releases, Bernays relied on Fleischman to produce large
numbers of releases.  She proved to be very good at both writing and placing,
and her ability to write diverse stories even about narrow subjects helped them
utilize the "segmental approach."  Her Tribune background also was used as a
selling point in placing national stories for Boni and Liveright, and probably
in other campaigns as well.  Additionally, she freed Bernays from many
day-to-day practical concerns by serving as his office manager.
        Her value increased as she learned from her work experiences and they moved
from doing "publicity direction" to the expanded "counsel on public relations"-a
phrase they coined collaboratively in 1920.  Bernays was an expert at publicity,
but once he was trying to go further, he needed someone with whom he could talk
through possible approaches, especially someone who had excellent ideas of her
own.  Their complementary abilities and personalities, evident from the
beginning of their work together, help explain the highly productive synergy of
their collaboration.
        One important difference between them was in their perceptions of their own
strengths and roles.  Bernays quickly came to see himself as a scientist,
theoretician and philosopher.  Anxious to apply techniques and ideas from the
behavioral and social sciences to public relations, he loved developing
principles, thinking broadly, intellectualizing.  In interviews and his own
extensive writings, he pontificated at length about his theories and found
meaning beyond their immediate campaign effects.
        Two public relations historians have aptly noted some of the most conspicuous
qualities of his mind and personality.  Scott Cutlip described Bernays as "a man
who was bright, articulate to excess, and most of all, an innovative thinker and
philosopher of his vocation."[97]  Stuart Ewen was very  impressed with
Bernays's key 1920s publications, which he read scrupulously and relied on
heavily  to describe the field's underpinnings.  But despite calling Bernays
"the most important theorist of American public relations," he noted the
"customary bombast" of his writings.[98]
        Fleischman, though, was devoid of bombast.  In contrast to her forceful,
confident collaborator, she was modest and somewhat shy, seeming to have little
need for the approval or attention of others.  At the same time, she was far
more organized and practical than Bernays (as shown, in a simple example, by her
work as their office manager).  She was able to help him translate his broad
ideas into workable strategies and also had a particular talent for anticipating
how the public likely would react to these strategies.[99]
        An excellent listener and a quick, perceptive judge of people, she had much
stronger interpersonal skills than her husband.  People tended to like her when
they first met her, in part because they often found she understood them and was
sensitive to their needs.[100]  Daughter Anne Bernays, who noted that Bernays
often had trouble reading people accurately, called Fleischman his "personal
antennae for judging people."[101]  He admitted that "her insight and judgment
are better than mine."[102]
        Given these strengths, it seems likely that she would have contributed even
more to the firm if she had had consistent client contacts.  But these contacts
were minimal in the early years covered here, and apparently by the end of the
1920s she had none at all.[103]  According to both Bernays and Fleischman, there
was a simple reason for this:  Clients would have either refused to work with
Fleischman or disregarded her advice.
        This rationale, though, is inconsistent with what they said when they wrote
about women working in public relations, rather than about their own work.
Here, they expressed confidence that women could-and should-do everything men
did.  Thus in the three pieces Fleischman published about women as public
relations practitioners, she consistently described their client contacts and
never mentioned any circumstances under which they shouldn't expect to have
these contacts.[104]  Similarly, when he wrote a chapter on public relations for
his 1928 book on careers, Bernays asserted, "Theoretically, there is nothing in
this profession that a man can do that a woman cannot do."  A woman, he said,
"is limited mainly by her personal ability to make the men she deals with
realize that she is as capable as if she were a man."[105]  And a decade later,
in a co-authored article on public relations careers, Fleischman and Bernays
declared, "There is nothing in this profession that a man can do that a woman
cannot do."[106]
        Clearly, neither Fleischman nor Bernays believed that other women working in
public relations should avoid client contacts, and it must have been obvious
that Fleischman was highly capable of carrying out such contacts.  Indeed,
despite their denials that she ever worked directly with clients, a few cases
where she did do so can be found in the early 1920s.  It seems likely that other
cases also exist for this period, although documentation has not survived.  Why,
then, did they maintain that she neither had nor should have had these contacts?
And why were the contacts she did have so minimal in importance and number?
        Their daughter Anne offered a forthright answer:  "He didn't want her to get
the credit."[107]  It is also a persuasive answer.  Bernays was an exceedingly
strong, assertive, dynamic person who loved his work and loved being recognized
for it.  His early background in theatrical publicity no doubt was an influence
here.  It is hard to believe that, if he could avoid doing so, he would have
willingly shared credit for their work.  Sharing credit with a woman at a time
when professional women were not widely accepted was even more problematic.
        The invisibility of Fleischman's role also was advantageous to Bernays because
it helped him do something that he said was a priority in the early 1920s:
"Make the word 'Bernays' stand for advice on public relations."[108]  He very
consciously promoted not only his clients but himself, and even as he was
selling himself, he was selling the new field of public relations.  As he put
it, "Public relations would become a continuing free client."[109]  He carried
out two of his most significant early efforts to bring visibility and
respectability to this free client (and himself) in 1923.  In February, he began
teaching the first university course on public relations (at New York
University).  And later that year, his Crystallizing Public Opinion-this
country's first book on public relations-was published by Boni and Liveright.
(Bernays orchestrated its elaborate promotional campaign.)[110]
        Business historian Alan R. Raucher succinctly described Bernays as "an
aggressively self-confident man, as sure about the social value of public
relations work as he was about his own contribution to that field."[111]  This
description helps capture his own stake in being identified-as often as
possible-as a major figure in the profession and in holding a position that
would let him mold the field.  There is no doubt that Fleischman helped him gain
this influence, work successfully with clients and, when he was writing
Crystallizing Public Opinion in 1922, form its ideas.[112]  On a few occasions
when he was unavailable, she even (very nervously) taught his New York
University course.[113]  But he was not about to give up the attention,
authority and credit he received from client contacts by sharing them-as he no
doubt would have had to do if his partner had been a man.
        One important finding of this paper is that the patterns that were to
characterize their partnership after their marriage were evident in 1919 and
firmly established by the time they married in 1922.  From the start, Fleischman
brought much-needed writing skills to the business.  Soon afterwards, she began
collaborating with Bernays in developing strategies and even naming their new
profession.  Then for six decades, Bernays admitted, her work was as vital as
his own to their business and she did everything he did except have client
contacts.  But, thanks to her public invisibility and his own prodigious talents
for self-promotion, he alone received credit for the firm's work.  He benefited
from their partnership in ways that were more than practical.[114]
        Fleischman's rewards also were substantial, if more straightforward, and they
are clarified by this examination of her early years with Bernays.  Most
important, she gained a career, and a chance to grow and succeed to an
extraordinary degree in it.  She seems to have had little career direction and
few options at the time Bernays hired her, and she could not have anticipated
that she would find the kind of rewarding, challenging, exciting position her
job quickly became.  In the beginning, Bernays taught her a great deal even as
he took full advantage of her abilities.  Most clients may not have known about
or appreciated her work and talents, but he certainly did.  She felt valued, and
must have delighted in seeing measurable results of her work in their growing
revenues and list of clients.
        A close look at these early years also helps explain why she went on to defer
to him throughout their partnership.  In 1919 Bernays was Fleischman's boss.  He
had envisioned the new business that was to suit her skills so well, while it
was his reputation-based on his initial remarkable success in theatrical
publicity-that attracted many early clients.  He made the decision to hire her,
he assigned her work, he was her teacher.  He also was supremely self-confident.
It makes sense that he dominated their relationship at the start, while this
early dominance helps explain why, 30 years later, she still maintained,
"Eddie's word is final and he casts the deciding vote in our partnership."[115]
        Looking back, she also pondered her lack of client contacts, saying that when
she first joined with Bernays in 1919, "I decided that I would not try to
compete with men because the hurdles were too great."  She admitted, "I
surrendered without having seen an enemy.  I wonder if I would try to avoid all
conflict with men if I were to begin today."[116]  These wistful words also
might apply to her continuing relationship with Bernays.  Still, she must always
have thought she owed him a great deal.
        For, despite her 1913 fears of the ocean, she did become a superb swimmer, and
found the water far more hospitable than it had appeared when she graduated from
college.  It did not seem to matter greatly to her that she swam in the wake of
a much more visible, powerful swimmer, since without him, she might well have
sunk.  And without her, he certainly would have been a far less successful high
diver.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
[1] NOTES
 
 
Doris Fleischman Bernays, "Plus Ca Change, Plus C'Est La Meme Chose," Phantasm,
Sept.-Oct. 1977, 3.
 
[2] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women (New York: Crown Publishers,
1955), 167-68.
 
[3] "Edward Bernays, 'Father of Public Relations' and Leader in Opinion Making,
Dies at 103," New York Times, March 10, 1995, A12.
 
[4] The only  published scholarly works on Fleischman appeared within the past
year:  Susan Henry, "Anonymous in Her Own Name: Public Relations Pioneer Doris
E. Fleischman," Journalism History 23 (Summer 1997): 50-62, and Susan Henry,
"Dissonant Notes of a Retiring Feminist: Doris E. Flesichman's Later Years,"
Journal of Public Relations Research 10 (Winter 1998): 1-33.
 
[5] Edward L. Bernays, Biography of An Idea: Memoirs of Public Relations Counsel
Edward L. Bernays (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1965), 49-62.
 
[6] Transcript of Edward L. Bernays oral history (1971), Oral History Research
Office, Columbia University, New York, N.Y., 448.
 
[7] Bernays describes these early years at length in Biography of An Idea,
62-152.  The quotes are on  pages 102 and 75.
 
[8] Ibid, 155-78.  For a good description of the work of the CPI, see Stuart
Ewen, PR! A Social History of Spin (New York: Basic Books, 1996), 102-27.
 
[9] See, for example, Ewen, 126-33; Scott Cutlip, The Unseen Power: Public
Relations. A History (Hillsdale, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1994),
105-06; Alan R. Raucher, Public Relations and Business, 1900-1929 (Baltimore:
The Johns Hopkins Press, 1968), 73-74; Richard S. Tedlow, Keeping the Corporate
Image: Public Relations and Business, 1900-1950 (Greenwich, Conn.: JAI Press,
1979), 40-41.
 
[10] Edward L. Bernays oral history transcript, 60-62.
 
[11] Ibid., 61-66; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 187-94.  Specific dates are
from a chronology of his activities prepared by Bernays in box I: 498, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. (hereafter LC).
 
[12] In her published and unpublished writings, Fleischman never mentioned any
jobs she held in 1913.  She always began by describing her work at the New York
Tribune in 1914.  In interviews with this author, though, Bernays said her first
job was doing fundraising and publicity for a "charity" devoted to "taking care
of women."  But he said he told her "she could learn nothing there," encouraged
her to enter journalism, and introduced her to a reporter at the New York
Telegram, who helped her get her job at the Tribune.  See interviews with Edward
L. Bernays, March 26, 1988, and March 29, 1988, Cambridge, Mass.
 
[13] It is exceedingly difficult to clearly chart the details of Fleischman's
professional work before she was hired by Bernays.   In most interviews and in
their own writings, both Fleischman and Bernays maintained that she worked at
the Tribune between 1914 and 1919, when she left to join Bernays.
(Occasionally, she said she had started at the Tribune in 1913, soon after
graduating from Barnard.)  But her donated clippings files contain no Tribune
articles with her byline before November 1,1914; the last is dated  March 19,
1916.   See carton 1, file 2, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger
Library on the History of Women, Cambridge, Mass .(hereafter Schlesinger
Library).  This file, although it does not contain all that Fleischman wrote for
the Tribune, gives a good sense of how productive she was during some weeks.
        Stronger evidence that she left the Tribune in 1916 is found in the brief
biographies she (or Bernays) wrote to accompany  her chapters in books each of
them edited.   Both sources, written in the 1920s, identify her as working at
the Tribune from 1914 to 1916.  See Doris E. Fleischman, ed., Careers for Women:
A Practical Guide to Opportunity for Women in American Business (New York:
Doubleday, Doran & Company, 1928), 384, and Edward L. Bernays, ed., An Outline
of Careers: A Practical Guide to Achievement by Thirty-Eight Eminent Americans
(New York:  Doubleday, Doran & Company, 1927), opposite page 423.
        Fleischman describes her Tribune work in Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is
Many Women, 167-69, and in unused notes for A Wife Is Many  Women, carton 1,
file 33, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger Library.   Her press pass
for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition is in box I: 3,  Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[14] Telephone interview with Camille Roman, Nov. 20, 1995.
 
[15] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 26, 1986, Cambridge, Mass; Doris
Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 167-68; Doris Fleischman Bernays,
"Plus Ca Change, Plus C'Est La Meme Chose," 3; Doris E. Fleischman, "Woman at
the Lightweight Championship," New York Tribune, March 14, 1915.
 
[16] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988, Cambridge, Mass.  A few
documents related to this work are in addenda, file 1, Doris Fleischman Bernays
Papers, Schlesinger Library.
 
[17] Audiotape of interview with Doris Fleischman Bernays by MaryAnn Yodelis,
July 1973, Cambridge, Mass.  A few documents related to this work for the  New
York Dispensary are in addenda, file 1, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers,
Schlesinger Library.
 
[18]  Fleischman's byline appears on articles about Lithuania and the
servicemen's re-employment campaign published by newspapers in April, June and
July-all before Bernays opened his office.  See clippings in box III: 3, Edward
L. Bernays Papers, LC, and addenda, file 1, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers,
Schlesinger Library.
 
[19] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 169; "Doris and I" (a
section in Bernays's notes for Biography of An Idea), 1-4, box I: 462, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[20] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 170.
 
[21] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 188-92; "Finding My Way" (a section in
Bernays's notes for Biography of An Idea), 1-22, box I: 461, Edward L. Bernays
Papers, LC; Edward L. Bernays oral history transcript, 61-66.
 
[22] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 193-94; interview with Edward L. Bernays,
October 29, 1989, Cambridge, Mass.  Murray Bernays, born Murray Cohen, married
Bernays's sister Hella in 1917 and shortly afterwards had his name legally
changed to Murray C. Bernays to keep his wife's family name alive.  Edward
Bernays had said he would never marry, and all his siblings were female.  Murray
Bernays was divorced from Hella Bernays in 1924 but kept her last name.  See
"Murray Bernays, Lawyer, Dead; Set Nuremberg Trials Format," New York Times
undated clipping (probably 1970s), box III:6, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[23] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 38.
 
[24] Elizabeth Kemper Adams, Women Professional Workers (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1921), 307.
 
[25] Catherine Filene, ed., Careers for Women (Cambridge, Mass.: Riverside
Press, 1920; repr., New York: Arno Press, 1974), 19.
 
[26] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 38.
 
[27] Edward L. Bernays oral history transcript, 72.
 
[28] Bernays describes some of his clients during this time in  Biography of An
Idea, 194-199; the quote is on p.195.  Also see chronology, box I: 498, Edward
L. Bernays Papers,  LC, and receipt from H.P. Inman of the Lithuanian National
Council for work done by Bernays, Aug. 19, 1919, box III:6, Edward L. Bernays
Papers, LC.
 
[29] Bernays, Biography of an Idea, 199.
 
[30] Walker Gilmer, Horace Liveright: Publisher of the Twenties (New York: David
Lewis, 1970), 10-20; "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign" (a
section in Bernays's notes for Biography of An Idea), box  I:457, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[31] John Tebbel, A History of Book Publishing in the United States, vol. III
(New York: R.R. Bowker Company, 1978), 136, 138.
 
[32] Bernays, Biography of an Idea, 277-78.
 
[33] Ibid, 284; "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 8-11;
the quote, taken from the foreword to the First Supplementary Catalog, is on p.
11.
 
[34] Letter from Edward L. Bernays to the Feature Editor of the Detroit Free
Press, Nov. 13, 1919, box I:120, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[35] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 280-81; "Boni and Liveright-Book
Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 21-26.
 
[36] Edward L. Bernays, Crystallizing Public Opinion (New York: Boni &
Liveright, 1923; repr., New York: Liveright Publishing Corporation, 1961), 195.
 
[37] Ibid, 137.
 
[38] "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 16-17; Bernays,
Biography of An Idea, 282.  Some of these releases are in box I:120, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[39] "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 14-20.
 
[40] Gilmer, 26, 63; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 282-83.
 
[41] Ann Douglas, Terrible Honesty: Mongrel Manhattan in the 1920s (New York:
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1995), 68.
 
[42] Gilmer, 90.  A large in-house advertising staff apparently took over all
further promotional activities during the rest of the 1920s.
 
[43] Douglas, 67-71; Edward L. Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 286.
 
[44] Tebbel, 335-36.
 
[45] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 287.
 
[46] Ibid, 288.
 
[47] See, for example, ibid; Edward L. Bernays, Public Relations (Norman:
University of Oklahoma Press, 1952), 78-79; Edward L. Bernays, "Emergence of the
Public Relations Counsel: Principles and Recollections," Business History Review
45 (Autumn 1971): 301-02; interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 28, 1986,
Cambridge, Mass;
 
[48] Charles Flint Kellogg, NAACP: A History of the National Association for the
Advancement of Colored People, vol. 1 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press,
1967), 137, 245-46; Mary White Ovington, The Walls Came Tumbling Down (New York:
Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1947; repr., New York: Arno Press, 1969), 177.
 
[49] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 208-11; "The NAACP-1920" (a section in
Bernays's notes for Biography of An Idea), 1-16, box I:459, Edward L. Bernays
Papers, LC.
 
[50] "The NAACP-1920," 17.
 
[51] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988.
 
[52] "The NAACP-1920," 19-20; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 211-13; Bernays
oral history transcript, 236;
 
[53] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 212-14; "The NAACP-1920," 20-22, 32-39.
 
[54] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 170.
 
[55] "The NAACP-1920," 18.
 
[56] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 211.
 
[57] Quoted in "The NAACP-1920," 39.
 
[58] Ibid., 25A-27, 29.
 
[59] Ovington, 178.
 
[60] "The NAACP-1920," 35-37.
 
[61] Ovington, 178.
 
[62] Walter White to Mr. E. L. Bernays, July 13, 1920, box III:6, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[63] "The NAACP-1920," 32-39, 52.
 
[64] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 215.
 
[65] Doris Fleischman Bernays, transcript of speech to the Radcliffe Club
[1962], 11, carton 1, file 39, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger
Library.
 
[66] Ibid, 11.
 
[67] Interviews with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988, and May 28, 1986,
Cambridge, Mass; interview with Anne Bernays, May 27, 1986, Cambridge, Mass.
 
[68] Information on clients for these years can be found in the alphabetically
arranged client files, boxes I:56-421, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and in
Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 187-252.
 
[69] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 188.  The release titled "Radium Becoming a
Household Aid," is in box III:3, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[70] Bernays, Public Relations, 81.
 
[71] Bernays, "The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel," 301.
 
[72] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988; "Doris and I," (a section
in Bernays's notes for Biography of An Idea), 7, box I: 461, Edward L. Bernays
Papers, LC.
 
[73] Undated (probably February 1921) memo from Doris E. Fleischman to Edward L.
Bernays, box I:4, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[74] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988.
 
[75] Bernays oral history transcript, 99.
 
[76] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 28, 1986.
 
[77]  Although Bernays wrote very specifically about his 1919 staff and
facilities, he had little to say about his later offices.  The best evidence of
the size of  his 1921 office is in a memo  dated January 9, 1923, which is
addressed to ten employees.  See "Memorandum to Organization from E.L.B. and
J.M.T.," box I:5, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.  Significantly, one person
listed on that memo-Kathleen Goldsmith-was a writer.
 
[78] Edward L. Bernays, Your Future in Public Relations (New York: Richards
Rosen Press, 1961), 142.
 
[79] See client files, boxes I:56-421, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and
Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 205-252.
 
[80] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 205-06.
 
[81] "Junior League of the Cardiac Committee of the Public Education
Association" and "Babies Hospital Benefit-1921," (sections in Bernays's notes
for Biography of An Idea),  box I:461, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[82] See box I:105, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[83] Bernays was adamant about this whenever it came up in several interviews
with this author.  Similarly, in his autobiography, he wrote that Fleischman
"has done everything in public relations, except get into the direct client
relationships." (Biography of An Idea, 220.)
     In her own published work, Fleischman was vague about client contacts,
hinting that she did meet with some clients in early years.  (See A Wife Is Many
Women, 171.)  Her unused notes for this book are more explicit.  An outline
listing  some of the disadvantages of working with her husband includes the
statement, "I made contacts before marriage, but not after." (Doris Fleischman
Bernays Papers, carton 1, file 19, Schlesinger Library.)  But in every interview
with her this author has located, she denied ever having had any contacts at any
time.
 
[84] Doris E. Fleischman to Henry Morganthau, Jr., May 9, 1992; Henry
Morganthau, Jr., to Doris E. Fleischman, May 10, 1922, and Fleischman's
follow-up-notes from their May 12 meeting, box I:746, Edward L. Bernays Papers,
LC.
 
[85] [First Name Illegible] Saint-Charbin to Mademoiselle Fleischman, June 30,
1923, box III:2, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.  (My thanks to Elizabeth Burt for
translation from the French.)
 
[86] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988.
 
[87] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 171.
 
[88] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 221.
 
[89] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, Oct. 26, 1989, Cambridge, Mass.
 
[90] Interviews with Edward L. Bernays, May 28, 1986 and March 29, 1988,
Cambridge, Mass.
 
[91] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 26, 1986.
 
[92] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, March 29, 1988.
 
[93] "Memorandum to Organization from E.L.B. and J.M.T.," probably written in
1922, discusses the need for Fleischman to be free at set times during the week
to meet with Bernays to discuss clients.  It also refers to the need to hire new
people to take over "a portion of the stories and releases Miss Fleischman is
now burdened with."  An April 28, 1922,  invoice itemizes costs related to
production of one news release, listing the charge for "Miss Fleischman placing
story" as $25.00.   See box I:4, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
 
[94] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 26, 1986.  (Bernays discussed their
extensive collaboration throughout their partnership in many interviews.  In
this one, he explicitly stated that they strategized together from the start. )
 
[95] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 24, 1986.
 
[96] Bernays, "The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel," 301.
 
[97] Cutlip, 169.
 
[98] Ewen, 163 and 170.
 
[99] Interviews with Doris Bernays Held, May 27, 1986, Cambridge, Mass., Anne
Bernays, Oct. 27, 1989, Cambridge, Mass., and Edward L. Bernays, May 29, 1988.
 
[100] Ibid.
 
[101] Interview with Anne Bernays, Oct. 18, 1995, Cambridge, Mass.
 
[102] Bernays interview with Scott Cutlip, March 12, 1959, quoted in Cutlip,
169.
 
[103] See footnote 82 above.
 
[104] Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations," in Doris E. Fleischman, ed., An
Outline of Careers for Women, 385-95; Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations: A
New Field for Women," Independent Woman, Feb. 1931, 58-59, 86; Doris E.
Fleischman, "Keys to a Public Relations Career," Independent Woman, Nov. 1941,
332-33, 340.
 
[105] Edward L. Bernays, "Public Relations," in Edward L. Bernays, ed., An
Outline of Careers, 296.
 
[106] Edward L. Bernays and Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations as a Career,"
Occupations.  The Vocational Guidance Magazine, Nov. 1937, 133.
 
[107] Interview with Anne Bernays, Oct. 27, 1989.
 
[108] Interview with Edward L. Bernays, May 28, 1986.
 
[109] Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 289.
 
[110] Tedlow, 42-44.  The original course description is in box I: 462, Edward
L. Bernays Papers, LC.  Tedlow describes the final exam on p. 54, f72.
Bernays's salary for teaching the course was $200; student tuition was $20.
 
[111] Raucher, 103.
 
[112] In his 1971 oral history  (transcript, p. 77) Bernays calls Crystallizing
Public Opinion "our first book."  Two secondary sources also refer to
Fleischman's  involvement in conceptualizing this book:  Cutlip, 178, and Eric
F. Goldman, Two-Way Street: The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel
(Boston:  Bellman Publishing Company, 1948), 18.  But these assertions of her
contributions seem to be based more on the authors' assumptions than on explicit
statements from Bernays.  My own conclusion, based on knowledge of their
relationship in 1921 and 1922, is that they discussed much that went into the
book as he wrote it, and that she helped a great deal in forming its key ideas.
 
[113] Audiotape of Doris Fleischman Bernays interview with with MaryAnn Yodelis.
 
[114] For a detailed descriptionsof their "twenty-four-hour-a-day partnership"
following their 1922 marriage, see Henry, "Anonymous in Her Own Name: Public
Relations Pioneer Doris E. Fleischman," 50-62.
 
[115] Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 167.
 
[116] Unused notes for A Wife Is Many Women, carton 1, file 25, Doris Fleischman
Bernays Papers, Schlesinger Library.

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