Best PR Advice…Ever
The Cover-Up was Worse Than the Crime
“When you’re in the mix of these really obtuse situations where nobody really knows the facts, in some sense the facts are less important than your posture toward the facts,” says Mr. Reeves, the former Merrill Lynch media relations executive.
“People are reasonable. They know companies make mistakes, and people will forgive an honest mistake. They will not forgive a dishonest cover-up.”
via P.R. Missteps Fueled Fiascos at BP, Toyota and Goldman – NYTimes.com.
The Lawyer Vs. P.R.
Credit: http://pharmamkting.blogspot.com
This week we’ve looked at some of the most wretched P.R. crises, spurred by a comprehensive article in the New York Times. Today, we look at the fight behind the scenes to minimize P.R. and legal damage:
In times of crisis, communications professionals and lawyers often pursue conflicting agendas. Communications strategists are inclined to mollify public anger with expressions of concern, while lawyers warn that contrition can be construed as admissions of guilt in potentially expensive lawsuits.
For BP, this tension burst into view in May, when executives went to Capitol Hill with officials from two of its contractors: Transocean, which owned the offshore rig that exploded, and Halliburton, which aided BP in drilling. Executives from the three companies each disowned culpability while pointing fingers at one another.
“What that screamed is the lawyers are in control,” says Mr. Reeves. “All it did was get everybody all the more peeved at them.”
It’s a tough call. Legal is trying to keep you out of court–or worse jail. P.R. is trying to save your credibility, and by extension your business. Based on my experience, I believe honesty is the best policy. Transparency is critical.
Of course, I also believe BP would have fired me on the spot, because I would’ve recommended we throw ourselves on the mercy of public opinion–ala Tylenol.
If there is no doubt mistakes were made–if you’re caught dead to rights–then your appeal to the Court of Public Opinion (not to be confused with The People’s Court, though a bailiff named Rusty is always cool) should go something like this:
Scenario: ABC Company has been accidentally dumping factory greywater into river tributaries that feed stock ponds. There’s no wiggle room–they’re busted on 60 Minutes.
Here’s the statement I would recommend:
“ABC Company admits and takes full responsibility for our mistake. We take our commitment to the environment very seriously. This event has not only been embarrassing but an inexcusable violation of the trust the public has bestowed upon us. Our usually reliable safeguards and policies were not followed and we are taking measures to discipline those who caused this failure. We will also work with the community to undertake reasonable measures to clean up the leaked water and make whole those damaged economically by this incident. It is my sincere hope that we can regain the trust of our community and strengthen that trust as we move forward. Thank you. My chief engineer and I will be happy to take questions about our next steps.”
I can hear some of you now: “Dude, that’s nuts! Never admit guilt!” True, you have to protect your company and its assets; this is a statement of last resort. However, plenty of people will disagree with our strategy of telling the truth even as a last resort.
To that we say this: if you’re caught by 60 Minutes, do you really want to be the guy sweating under the grueling geriatric grilling of Mike Wallace? You won’t win.
Mistakes owned-up to quickly are a matter of forgiveness. Drag your feet, dissemble or lie and it becomes a matter of corruption, criminality or mistrust. Ducking or covering up and apologizing only after you have nowhere else to hide–or under court order–will effectively destroy your reputation and cost you in money, energy, time and brand equity.
In another life I was Vice President of a $70 million healthcare management firm. We made some mistakes from time to time. As a rule, we told the truth and did our best to make it right (at least anytime I had any say in it). It wasn’t always profitable. I wasn’t always popular with the management team. I have no regrets about that policy.
I have no idea if there were intramural arguments between BP legal and P.R.–but if there were, it looks like legal won. Hmm. After being obstinate, disingenuous and a total PR failure, you have to wonder what BP’s management thinks in the dark midnights of their souls. Do they admit–if only to themselves–that they made a bad situation far worse?
Did the money they thought they were saving by reducing lawsuits outweigh the complete meltdown of their brand–thus hindering future profits? Or was the fact that their profits would far outweigh relative short-term damages the controlling factor?
Did they stay up nights worrying about this? I doubt it.
Can the P.R. Crisis Be So Bad You Can’t Fix it?
Our look at P.R. missteps continues, inspired by an article in the New York Times about recent P.R. disasters. Today we look at the question posed early in the article:
Are some crises so dire that public relations victory is simply not on the menu? And, if so, what’s an embattled company to do?
Yup. There are times when no amount of good P.R. advice will make up for lousy decisions, a lack of planning or just plain evil-doing. Read on:
Eric Dezenhall, a communications strategist in Washington who worked in the White House for President Ronald Reagan, argues that the standard playbook is useless when the facts are sufficiently distasteful. (He would know. He once represented Michael Jackson after allegations of child molestation.)
Mr. Dezenhall is particularly scornful of the classic imperative to “get out in front of the story,” as if swift disclosure provides inoculation against all ugly realities. When the facts are horrible, he argues, the best P.R. fix may simply be to absorb the pounding and get back to business, while eschewing the sort of foolish communications gimmicks that can make things worse.
Consider Tiger Woods. His now-infamous fondness for women other than his wife enthralled the nation, all the while torturing corporate sponsors who paid gargantuan sums to associate their brands with his winning image.
“What was Woods supposed to do?” Mr. Dezenhall asks in an essay in the publication Ethical Corporation. “Call an immediate press conference and rattle through a list of lady friends declaring, ‘Tiffany, yes; Trixy, no, Amber, don’t remember …’? And if Woods had pre-empted with a confession, would this have caused the news media, bloggers, pundits, Hooters waitresses and everyone else to collectively reward him with their silence? Not a chance.”
Our take on Mr. Woods and others caught with their…ahem…hands in the cookie jar:
What I’ve learned after nearly fifteen years as a crisis communications consultant and practitioner informs my recommendations on how to save your rear end when the effluent hits the rotary oscillator:
1. Tell the truth (or as much as you can without getting yourself thrown in jail–ask your lawyer if this is applicable.) This rule is a little different for celebs who wreck their cars and/or marriages than it is for a company caught cooking the books or polluting the water table; but the essence of it is the same: don’t dissemble, don’t lie. Here’s a pretty good statement for a celeb/politician who did a bad thing that hurt no one but himself and/or family:
“I have made a terrible error in judgment that has unfortunately hurt my [spouse, kids, significant other]. I have let my family, friends and supporters down, and there is nothing I can do at this moment to fix that. Though this incident is certainly of interest to those who have [followed my career, supported me, bought my albums, seen my movies, etc.], I would appreciate some time and space so I can work this out with my family. I would also ask for restraint from the media and remind them that there are real people caught up in this situation through no fault of their own who deserve as much privacy as possible. If we get to a point where we would like to share more, I assure you I will contact you. Thank you for your consideration, good day to you.”
[If you are crying, wipe your tears with a handkerchief. Walk away from the mic. Now. Take no more questions. NO MORE QUESTIONS. No rambling, Governor Sanford. ]
2. Shut up. You’ve made your statement. You’ve either said you are going to work this out privately with your family or your company has laid out what it is going to do to make the situation right (or you’ve lawyered up and said you have nothing to say due to pending legal action). So shut up about it and get busy. Resist the urge to use the media as a confessional. Save that for when your marriage/company is cleaned up and solid again.
The article shifts gears from personalities to corporations:
Much the same can be said for BP, Toyota and Goldman, he suggests, with attempts to win public affection almost certain to be viewed as insincere so long as real problems persisted — oil spilling into the ocean, cars crashing, Wall Street profiting while ordinary people suffered.
We’ll look at that in our next post. Stay tuned.
Crisis Communications 101: A Tiger by the Tail
Update: Okay, apparently Tiger did not read Rule #2.
By now you know far more about Tiger Woods’ brush with infamy than you probably care to, so I’ll spare you the gories (click here or here for that). However, it does give me an opportunity to discuss what I’ve learned after nearly fifteen years as a crisis communications consultant and practitioner. Here are a few tips to save your rear end when the effluent hits the rotary oscillator:
1. Tell the truth (or as much as you can without getting yourself thrown in jail–ask your lawyer if this is applicable.) This rule is a little different for celebs who wreck their cars and/or marriages than it is for a company caught cooking the books or polluting the water table; but the essence of it is the same: don’t dissemble, don’t lie. Here’s a pretty good statement for a celeb/politician who did a bad thing that hurt no one but himself and/or family:
“I have made a terrible error in judgment that has unfortunately hurt my [spouse, kids, significant other]. I have let my family, friends and supporters down, and there is nothing I can do at this moment to fix that. Though this incident is certainly of interest to those who have [followed my career, supported me, bought my albums, seen my movies, etc.], I would appreciate some time and space so I can work this out with my family. I would also ask for restraint from the media and remind them that there are real people caught up in this situation through no fault of their own who deserve as much privacy as possible. If we get to a point where we would like to share more, I assure you I will contact you. Thank you for your consideration, good day to you.”
[If you are crying, wipe your tears with a handkerchief. Walk away from the mic. Now. Take no more questions. NO MORE QUESTIONS. No rambling, Governor Sanford. ]
What about the corporate bad thing? If there is no doubt mistakes were made– if you’re caught dead to rights and legal says it’s hopeless, then your appeal to the Court of Public Opinion (not to be confused with The People’s Court, though a bailiff named Rusty is always cool) should go something like this:
Scenario: ABC Company has been accidentally dumping factory greywater into river tributaries that feed stock ponds. There’s no wiggle room–they’re busted on 60 Minutes.
Here’s the statement I would recommend:
“ABC Company admits and takes full responsibility for our mistake. We take our commitment to the environment very seriously. This event has not only been embarrassing but an inexcusable violation of the trust the public has bestowed upon us. Our usually reliable safeguards and policies were not followed and we are taking measures to discipline those who caused this failure. We will also work with the community to undertake reasonable measures to clean up the leaked water and make whole those damaged economically by this incident. It is my sincere hope that we can regain the trust of our community and strengthen that trust as we move forward. Thank you. My chief engineer and I will be happy to take questions about our next steps.”
I can hear some of you now: “Dude, that’s nuts! Never admit guilt!” True, you have to protect your company and its assets; this is a statement of last resort. However, plenty of people will disagree with my strategy of telling the truth even as a last resort. To that I say this: if you’re caught by 60 Minutes, do you really want to be the guy sweating under the grueling geriatric grilling of Mike Wallace? You won’t win.
Mistakes owned-up to quickly are a matter of forgiveness. Drag your feet, dissemble or lie and it becomes a matter of corruption, criminality or mistrust. Ducking or covering up and apologizing only after you have nowhere else to hide–or under court order–will effectively destroy your reputation and cost you in money, energy, time and brand equity.
In another life I was Vice President of a $70 million healthcare management firm. We made some mistakes from time to time. As a rule, we told the truth and did our best to make it right (at least anytime I had any say in it). I have no regrets about that policy.
2. Shut up. You’ve made your statement. You’ve either said you are going to work this out privately with your family or your company has laid out what it is going to do to make the situation right (or you’ve lawyered up and said you have nothing to say due to pending legal action). So shut up about it and get busy. Resist the urge to use the media as a confessional. Save that for when your marriage/company is cleaned up and solid again.
3. Comeback? When you do “come back” into the public spotlight (if there’s still any interest by then) ask yourself: “To what benefit is it for me (my family, state, movies, etc.) to rehash this mistake?” In this age of trading dignity for a few minutes of fame, I submit that a little personal shame and contrition is a rare commodity. It also shows a little class. Think: would you rather be post-Watergate Nixon or post-sex scandal David Letterman? Think what you will about what either man did, but only one of them was forthright, self-deprecating, honest and contrite about it.
It’s not rocket science. It’s basic honesty. We’re all human; we all fall short of our ideals. It’s how we respond to our transgressions and mistakes that make up our personal (and corporate) character.
Now–and please pardon my use of the obvious–Tiger Woods has a tiger by the tail. His tiger is in the form of a rabid media that he’s fed nothing but red meat by his dissembling and outright stupid behavior.
