There’s a reason I didn’t become a PR (Public Relations) professional: I never wanted to be the spokesperson holding the bag after the factory caught fire or the avalanche wiped out a neighborhood or the CEO ran off with the last quarter’s earnings.
These days, as the world lurches from one catastrophe to the next, I’ve been watching politicians and bureaucrats around the world engage in “crisis communication,” and I’ve been very glad not be standing in their shoes.
And yet, as I’ve observed the more skilled of these communicators, I’ve noticed ways their practices can help with the less dramatic situations that erupt in my own life. I offer a few observations here in case they’re also helpful as you cope with whatever crisis you’re navigating this week, whether that’s a rude email from a client or stakeholder, a piece of bad news you’re tasked with delivering, or a routine staff meeting turned sour.
“Emergency” Is a Relative Term
When I worked for an eLearning company, the pace was hectic, and clients often had unreasonable expectations. A wise colleague liked to remind us that no one would die if we didn’t deliver the latest course materials right on deadline. We weren’t paramedics or surgeons, he’d say. No one ever has a genuine training “emergency.”
While that helped put the situation in perspective, it didn’t necessarily reduce the stress of convincing the client to see it the same way. You’ve probably seen the sarcastic office sign that reads “Your emergency isn’t my crisis.” That’s funny only if you’ve never had to stand between an irate client, colleague, or stakeholder and whatever goal they’re trying to achieve that particular day.
Most of us will never have to withstand the kind of official heat that trained crisis communicators deal with, but we are fighting our own kinds of fires day after day. In the past week, for example, I’ve had to terminate a contractor, give a client some frank feedback, and ask my bookkeeper to hurry up and close the books for fiscal year 2025.
None of these communication scenarios were blazing bonfires, but I’m sure each of them spiked my adrenaline. And the way through each potential disaster was to practice some of the habits that skilled PR professionals and politicians demonstrate in more dire contexts.
Three Survival Tips for Everyday Communicators
You can’t spin your way out of a crisis. Nor can you explain it away. While both these tactics might delay a negative outcome, they don’t resolve anything.
Effective communicators know that the only way out of a crisis is through it. They tackle challenging circumstances with focus, honesty, and grace.
1. Focus. Whether you’re trying to calm down a NATO assembly or just placate your manager, the key is to focus on the goal you want to achieve. In almost every case I can think of, this will NOT be an informational goal. When you’re trying to restore peace and harmony, more data is never the answer.
The prize you want to keep your eye on is the outcome. What do you want to achieve through your communication? What needs to change? For example, if your boss is upset because the conference you organized ran over budget, you want to change their anger into acceptance and restore their trust in you.
Skilled crisis communicators recognize that the most important goal usually has something to do with the relationship at stake. Expressing your goal as precisely as possible will help you find the right words to achieve it. For example, “I want to reset the relationship” will require a different approach than “I want to preserve/protect/rekindle/rescue/redeem/rebuild the relationship.”
2. Honesty. It truly is the best policy, meaning it is the most politically savvy approach you can take to realize your desired outcome.
One of the things that made Mark Carney’s Davos speech so remarkable was its unblinking frankness. By refusing to pretend that the descent into global chaos is just a passing trend, Carney instantly elevated Canada on the world stage. We stopped looking like the next potential meal to feed Trump’s imperialist appetite and started looking like a strong leader in our own, “middle power” lane.
In hubbubs big and small, honesty cuts through the noise because it is often an unusual response and one that requires courage. For honest communication to work, however, it must be delivered with grace, and that’s a tough balance to manage.
3. Grace. In a crisis, fruitful communication is both graceful (elegant) and gracious (kind and tactful). Here, again, I’ll use Carney’s Davos speech as an example. Every aspect of that presentation was measured twice before it was cut, producing an example of classic oratory seldom seen in today’s soundbite world.
Each word was chosen with care, each sentence crafted with consideration given to both thought and sound. Where new ideas required new language, novel terms—like “hegemon”—came into play. The tone, too, was a sophisticated blend of confidence with humility, stern realism with grave hope.
Such eloquence depends as much on art as it does on intellect. Empathy, creativity, and patience are the tools that will make your crisis messages resonate with your audience and pave a path forward.
Recalibrating Our First Response
I hope you’re not dealing with too many crises this week, but if your work life is anything like mine, I know you'll probably have your share of disasters to avert.
In the spirit of honesty, I must say that my instinctive way to deal with potential catastrophe is often to just hope that it will go away. I’ll leave that troublesome email at the bottom of my inbox for a whole day, procrastinate on tackling a tough conversation I know I should have started weeks ago.
Or sometimes the switch flips the other way, and my first reaction is the desire to lash out with honesty that’s brutal and bombastic, not humble and gracious.
I find the three principles of focus, honesty, and grace useful correctives. They remind me that I don’t need to shy away from conflict if I have the right intentions and the right tools to guide me.
Watching professional crisis communicators helps me notice other options outside my avoid-or-attack impulse and recalibrate my response. With skill and practice, we can learn to deflect and redirect attacks, rise above petty squabbles, and prioritize right relationships over merely being right.
Crisis communication skills take time to learn—and, unfortunately, failure tends to be the best teacher. But, as I can testify from painful experience, learning to communicate through a crisis is one of the best investments you can make if you want people to take your research and innovative ideas seriously.
At the end of the day, it’s the quality of your relationships, not the quality of your information, that will earn you the right to be heard and win you champions.
I invite you to book a free 30-minute consult. We’ll chat about your research, the impact you want it to make, and the obstacles holding you back. Whether or not you decide to engage Clarity Connect, you’ll come away with a fresh perspective and a couple practical pointers to take back to your desk.
Comments