GLARE OF THE SPOTLIGHT, Part 1 - Michael Jackson's Misguided Focus

Boy, it's been all tough news since my last post. I don't mean the steady stream of celebrity deaths, such as Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. While I mourn all of these good souls, I have been taken by the parade of poseurs who were exposed in the unforgiving incandescence of media scrutiny: yes, I am thinking of Michael Jackson, but also Mark Sanford, and John and Kate Gosselin.
Michael Jackson once had it all. That was most evident in the outpouring of tributes that came when he died way past his prime. In his day, he was dazzling and truly unbelievable. I went into my basement and found a long-lost treasure: a VHS recording of NBC's 25th anniversary celebration of Motown, which aired in 1982. I fast-forwarded to Mr. Jackson first set with his scene-stealing performance with his brothers, The Jackson 5. Then, after shooing his siblings off-stage, he delivered his electrifying rendition of "Billie Jean." This was the night he introduced the moonwalk, and live musical performance was never quite the same. Adding to James Brown's legacy, Jackson showed that clothes,dancing and stagecraft could all add to a musical showcase. Singing melody and lyrics was no longer enough.

But this all started to fall apart for him after five short years. His next album, "Bad," sold a puny seven million (!) copies compared to the stratospheric "Thriller." Mr. Jackson was already drawing unfavorable comparisons to, of all people, himself. His music wasn't as strong, critics and fans said. His title video also portended a new problem. His appearance was becoming stranger, as he was morphing into either Diana Ross or sister Janet, depending on your interpretation.

Furthermore, he was developing a messianic image. In his "Beat It" video from "Thriller," Mr. Jackson amusingly sang of the wisdom of running from a fight. In "Bad," he was more the hero, simultaneously striking a prominent, godlike pose while sporting a more feminine appearance. This portrayal would grow inversely to the power and relevance of his music, as poorly selling albums sported cover art of Mr. Jackson as though he were the Colossus of Rhodes.

As time went on, he grew more sad than "bad." As his look became more bizarre, so did his behavior. Building an amusement park. Collecting odd artifacts, such as the skeleton of John Merrick, "the Elephant Man." Sporting a pet monkey. Over time, he was known more for his mannerisms and his self-mutilation than for his music.

The events of the past week show that Mr. Jackson could have maintained his career even without producing new music if he had only managed his public image more carefully. I listened to his songs on the radio over the last few days (I couldn't HELP but hear it!), and largely, I found them to be electrifying, brilliant, unique and more diversified than I had remembered. "Rock With You" was danceable, the "Thriller" single was fun, "The Way You Make Me Feel," was sexy, but "The Man in the Mirror" was passionately inspiring. There are some artists who offer such a wide range of output, but not so many. Mr. Jackson was a major artist.

If only he had emphasized that. If only he had performed his classic music more often than he presented a grotesque persona to the public. Perhaps his public image would have been more positive and kinder to this gentle soul.

As the cliche goes, perception is reality. We must remember this as we shape our public images. Companies need to be known as valued members of a community, not merely as polluters or the shedders and shredders of jobs. Products need to offer utility and value, not expense or a lack of safety. And we as individuals need to be known at least a bit more for our contributions and not our eccentricities. Michael Jackson and the people around him lost sight of that, and in that process, the public lost sight of his true value.

NEXT UP: Mark Sanford Talks the Talk, but Walks the Walk to Argentina