Communicating Under Fire

In a light speed world, you should expect to deal with a crisis. It may never come; but if you’re prepared, you’ll be much better off.

When a crisis occurs, the feeling is like no other. Events unfold at a speed that is beyond your control. Events are magnified beyond proportion. Confronted with a bewildering array of data, options, and demands, you’re tempted to retreat into a protective shell, taking your cues from what other people do or tell you. In a crisis, it’s important to understand the trust/empathy matrix.

The trust scale is within your control. How openly you respond under pressure will dictate whether you can continue to lead at light speed or crash into the ground. If you communicate openly, proactively, and provide all the facts as soon as you have them, you will build trust and the story will be less likely to spin out of control. On the other hand, if you withhold pertinent facts or leave reporters with further leads to uncover, you will erode trust. Reporters will attack people who mislead them. It is not pretty.

The empathy scale is governed largely by circumstances. Someone or something caused a crisis to occur. If it is clear that you or your company is not responsible, empathy will go up. If you or your company are victims of some natural disaster, empathy will go way up. On the other hand, if you perpetrated a crime or accidentally caused harm, empathy will go down. Sometimes way down.

While the empathy scale is largely beyond your control, there are things you can do to tilt it in your favor. Rule one is this: Broaden your sense of responsibility even if you’re not at fault. Remember to protect other people first – customers, employees and citizens. Not your shareholders or yourself. protect the public and your customers, and the shareholders will follow. Why? Because the long-term reputation and goodwill of your organization are more important than any short-term risk to shareholder value or your own job security.

This may feel counter-intuitive, especially when someone else is clearly culpable. But re-framing and broadening your level of responsibility will gain you empathy and help lead you out of the crisis.

A classic example is the Tylenol scare of 1986. When cyanide-laced containers of Tylenol were found on supermarket shelves, it was clear that a pathological killer was responsible. Johnson & Johnson ’s executives could have focused on the criminal aspects and exhorted police to take responsibility for catching the perpetrator. Indeed, he was caught within a matter of days. But they didn’t. They focused on one of their core values – safety – and acted immediately in ways that built trust.

The company chose to recall every Tylenol product, design strong anti-tampering packaging, and conduct a massive awareness-building campaign. Johnson & Johnson’s executives understood the need to immediately take responsibility for the safety of their consumers. It is estimated to have cost the company $2 billion, but Johnson & Johnson emerged the stronger for it.

In contrast, consider another classic case. In 1989, the oil tanker Exxon Valdez went aground in Alaska’s Prince William Sound. Nearly eleven million gallons of oil spilled onto pristine shoreline. In the immediate aftermath, Exxon’s CEO Lawrence Rawl was slow to accept responsibility. Instead he issued a flurry of press releases stating that the company was investigating the accident. The opportunity to contain the spill was squandered. Hundreds of miles of coastline were fouled.

Public furor built and the company’s reputation plunged. Several weeks passed before Rawl grudgingly announced that the company would take responsibility for the cleanup. Eventually, thousands of workers and volunteers were mobilized to mop up the oil, save the wildlife, and minimize the damage to the extent possible. But Exxon’s public image was left in tatters. Rawl’s response was a classic example of how not to communicate to the public when your company messes up.

In the case of the Exxon Valdez tanker spill, there was little question that the captain was drunk and that Exxon, as his employer, was at fault. Exxon’s leaders had little control over the empathy scale. But they did have control over the trust scale, which they messed up. In the Tylenol case, Johnson & Johnson was clearly not at fault. Yet it chose to assume full responsibility. As a consequence, the company was rewarded.