A Wild Journey Through My Emails

R eporters often have their work email publicly available so that anyone with a tip — a big scoop, a small detail, a file of documents — can reach out. It is a useful strategy: Although my inbox isn’t full of juicy secrets, there have been many instances where (sometimes anonymous) individuals have contacted me to disclose helpful tidbits of information that eventually appeared in a published article. Of course, there are disadvantages when your contact information is easily discoverable. Some less friendly people have emailed me to declare that I’m an embarrassment to the human species because my opinion articles don’t quite match their political views; those letters can be harsh but are easily ignored. Yet there’s one type of email that really frustrates me: those from PR firms bombarding me with ridiculous suggestions and advertisements that have absolutely no appeal to me.

I have a few theories about the methodologies of these PR firms. In some cases, it is pretty clear that a writer becomes associated with a keyword and then is added to a mailing list for press releases associated with that keyword. “Oxford’s Most Desired Gemstone for Engagement Rings Revealed,” reads one email I received from the firm Journo Research, presumably because I am based in Oxford and have mentioned Oxford in a handful of articles. A message from Press Research Network states in the subject line that “Oxford Is Among The UK Cities Most Concerned About Viruses: 2025 Study,” and the key findings of the study are listed in the email body. For whatever reason, it apparently concerns me that “OXFORD RANKS LEAST BOTHERED ON CELEBRATING THE EUROS,” because I received three emails about a study that showed Oxford was the least excited of ten cities for 2024 UEFA European Football Championship.

Sometimes, it seems that a PR strategist will scrape the internet for the email address of anyone who works at any publication, then blast out an announcement to us all with the hope that we’ll  cover it — even when our work clearly suggests otherwise. Abigail, did you know that a New York–based band is releasing a “HAUNTING QUEER ANTHEM”? Abigail, have you seen this new ranking of “which countries are the cheapest to have a baby in if you are queer”? Abigail, want an advance copy of this “defiant bilingual poetry workbook” that explores “activism, healing, and liberation by uplifting the legacy of LGBTQ+, Trans Latine communities”? My answer to all these questions is a firm no. But some advertisements I receive aren’t necessarily seeking news coverage and instead just want me to buy some product. One message encouraged me to “ring in 2025 in style with flirty, fabulous lingerie!”

Since news articles often feature quotes from an informed person who can illuminate nuances of a given event or policy, sometimes press releases will tout a particular client as an authoritative figure who can comment for such an article. I’ve been informed that a “trans army veteran,” a “chief DEI officer,” and “a premier astrology expert” are all available to speak with me. (The last offer included a “complimentary psychic reading with a top-rated California Psychics advisor.”) While some people just want to be mentioned in the pages of National Review, or of other publications they’re simultaneously inundating, others ask to have their own work published in full. Of course, we welcome op-ed submissions from a wide range of contributors — but, for instance, not from someone at “Male Order” to talk about the “importance of privacy protection when accessing ED treatments online.” (Read the room, people.)

In addition to promotional messages, I get a lot of scam emails that end up in the spam folder, as I’m sure you do as well. Can there be a constitutional amendment to banish PR firms from the earth and send scammers to the Ninth Circle of Hell? I dunno, maybe I’ll reach out to the “trans civil rights expert” who was flagged in a press release as being available for an interview.

Until then, I guess I’ll just have to keep hitting the trash icon.