German television news provides an example of how Germans separate message from messenger. News anchors present the news in an unemotional, correct, almost stiff way, maintaining an objective distance to the news. They sit behind the news desk, with the reports in their hand, read nonetheless from the teleprompter, show only discreet facial expression.
More recently, news achors will come out from behind the news desk and stand in front of a large screen. Although somewhat more informal, many continue to read from notes or at least hold the news report while using the teleprompter, making clear to their viewers: “This news is official. Not subjective. Not made up. Here it is in this official document.”
The branding approach of the German networks, especially the news departments, is based on substance, not personality. Topics, journalistic methods and form of presentation are far more important than the individuals presenting the news. The news presenters are interchangeable.
Der Tagesschau
Der Tagesschau – Germany’s most popular evening news. First from November 2020:
And 2010:
And on 9 Nov 1999, the tenth anniversary of the so-called Fall of the Berlin Wall:
Germans believe that it is unimportant who actually presents the arguments as long as the topic has been understood in both its depth and breadth, analyzed with stringent methods, leads to a logical and actionable conclusion, and is communicated in a structured and clear way. The presenter could be a junior member of the team.
In German politics one hears time and again: Es geht hier um die Sache! – this is about substance. Or Es geht hier nicht um meine Person! – this is not about me as a person.
This is the German politician’s way of saying, that their political program, not them as a politician, is the focus, is at center stage. They want to persuade based on their message, not by who they are. As if one could make a clear distinction between the two.
In 2013 two women in the CDU (Christian Democratic Union – the party of Chancellor Angela Merkel) – Katrin Albsteiger and Barbara Lanzinger – ran against each other in a party-internal race for an election to the Bundestag in Berlin. German political parties do not have primary races. Neither of them, however, spoke of a Machtkampf – literally: power battle – between them.
“This is not about me”, Albsteiger wrote. “This is not about my person”, Lanzinger said in an interview. But it was about them. As members of the same party they stood for the same political platform. They had no other choice but to persuade the other party members that they could win in the general election.
San Diego. 1996. Political advertisements of every kind must pass the objectivity test in Germany. The Germans expect substance and convincing arguments. And although the private and personal is seeping more and more into German politics, due to the influence of American politics, politicians in Germany are still identified directly with the stands they take on specific issues. They represent the political platforms of their respective parties.
Political party conventions in Germany are held once or twice a year. Their purpose is not to nominate candidates before elections, but instead to debate and formulate policy. At the conventions the stage is dominated by the party, with up to three or four rows of ten to fifteen seats per row occupied by the party elite. Until recently the speaker’s podium was to the side. And even though it has been moved to the center, the thirty to fifty colleagues occupying the stage send a clear signal: “Sure, we have different speakers during the convention. But make no mistake, the party comes first, the individuals politicians and office-holders come second!”
In the summer of 1996, while a political adviser to the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group in Bonn, I – John Magee – attended the Republican National Convention in San Diego. My job was to accompany and assist Peter Hintze (then Secretary General of the CDU), Jürgen Chrobog (then German ambassador to the U.S.) and Ruprecht Polenz (then Member of the Foreign Relations Committee). Bob Dole and Jack Kemp were nominated, then in the general election beaten badly by Bill Clinton and Al Gore.
Along with meetings with leading Republicans, Peter Hintze was especially interested in observing the details of the convention. Part of his job was organizing and preparing the CDU conventions for Chancellor Helmut Kohl. It is well known that American party conventions serve the primary purpose of presenting to voters a high level of unity, in terms of the ticket and the substance of the party’s platform. Political debate does not take place, and certainly not in full view of the American public. Germany is different. The conventions are televised from start to finish. And the Germans debate, openly, directly, harshly. The German public can follow it blow by blow by television or radio.
The great sensation of that 1996 Republican National Convention was Colin Powell’s speech. Many had hoped that he would be their party’s candidate. Immediately after his 1992 election, Clinton asked Powell to be his Secretary of State, hoping to prevent a Powell-candidacy four years later. Powell had declined respectfully. The arena in San Diego, fifteen thousand strong, exploded in applause when General Powell walked on stage, in civilian clothes, and proceeded to speak directly to the hearts and minds of the American people. From his heart and with great intensity.
Like any and every truly persuasive speaker in the American context Powell used anecdotes, figures of speech and several brief, but very personal stories to convey his message. He wanted to move the people emotionally. Hintze and Chrobog turned to me time and again asking for an explanation of these stories. Was meint er damit? What does he mean? What is he trying to say? The atmosphere in the convention center was electrifying.
Sitting behind the two Germans, and due to the noise level, which had even surprised me, I had to stick my head forward between theirs and literally scream my responses to their questions. It was clear to all three Germans – Hintze, Chrobog, Polenz – that the convention, and General Powell’s speech, were all about emotions.
In 2010 the online-career portal monster.de conducted a study regarding German behavior in social online networks. 61% of people said that they are not friends with their colleagues via social media.
Only 27% indicated that they talk to their colleagues on Facebook. 12% of the survey participants are friends with their colleagues on Facebook. However, most have different profile settings for colleagues. The survey results suggest that Germans separate their private life and their professional life.
Differences in the workplace environment can be reflected in the sorts of extra-workplace relationships that develop between co-workers. Company policies aside, of course. Two recent independent surveys of couples in Germany and the U.S. yielded the results that 24.5% of U.S. couples met their partner at work, while in Germany this number lies at only 12%. However, the most common way in which couples met was the same for both countries: through friends.
For “you” the German language has both and an informal word: Sie and Du. It is typical for German colleagues, even those who work well together and have known each other for many years to use the Sie-Form. The Knigge – Germany’s best known books on proper behavior, first pubished in 1788 by Baron Adolph Knigge – recommends the Sie-Form in the work context.
Knigge considers it appropriate to reject the offer of the Du-Form from a work colleague if one feels surprised or thrown off balance. For accepting the informal Du is a commitment to a level of personal friendship and trust one may not wish. Knigge recommends a polite response: “Your offer honors me. Thank you. However, I feel more comfortable using the Sie-Form, and prefer to continue using it, also out of respect for you (Sie).“
Maintaining a certain respectful distance to others is considered a sign of respect in the German culture. A famous example is the relationship between two of the best-known soccer tv-commentators, Günter Netzer (a former star German soccer player) and Gerhard Delling (a respected tv sports journalist).
Their conversational-type commentaries during half-time and after games are enjoyed by millions due to both their expert analysis and relaxed interaction. Yet, on camera they address each other with the formal Sie, even though Netzer was a groomsman (witness) in Delling’s.
Joachim Sauer is a quantum- and physio-chemist. He is a professor of physical and theoretical chemistry at the Humboldt University of Berlin. He is also the husband of Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel.
The election of his wife to the most powerful governmental position in all of Germany had no impact on his career. They seldom appear together in public. He declines to answer any interview questions that do not have to do with his own research. In federal elections his part is irrelevant.
Public life is clearly separated from private life. The home-life scene is irrelevant in determining political success. This same pattern can also be seen in the careers of Joschka Fischer (former German Foreign Minister) and Gerhard Schröder (Merkel’s predecessor as Chancellor). Both were married several times.
Mid-1990s. University of Bonn. Professor Dr. Schmidt enters the classroom with books and papers under his arm, and his little bell. The topic: Game Theory in the Context of International Politics.
A graduate student moves to the front of the room to give his presentation. Hardly a minute into it a shrill ding-a-ling pierces the air. The students don’t dare move a muscle. “Ladies and gentleman. Time and again I simply must impress upon you the need to define the terms you use. You cannot simply throw complex terms around the room without having first clearly defined them!“
A few students risk rolling their eyes. The presenter sweats, squirms and stammers his way through his material. Professor Dr. Schmidt sits down in his chair, his left arm on his desk, in his hand his little friend the bell– ready to get shrill at a moment’s notice.
German political conventions demonstrate clearly that in Germany, substance is more important than form. For decades the podium was set to the side, with the stage dominated by up to fifty party leaders sitting in three or four extended rows.
And although in recent years the podium has been moved front and center, the stage continues to be dominated by party leaders. The message is clear. The party and its political platform remain front and center.
German political parties also do their best to keep hidden their internal power struggles. Instead they are presented as debates over substance which should be resolved internally and speedily. The politicians involved are quick to state that the battle is not about themselves or political office, but about important issues of substance.