“We got through this once before, we’ll do it again”
When it’s scared of being eaten, there’s a story that an ostrich will stick its head in the sand, convincing itself that it is invisible. We laugh at such frail logic, but many of us are guilty of doing exactly the same thing.
My most recent case study: I’m writing this post on a flight from Las Vegas, Nevada. I was speaking to the International Council of Air Shows on the importance of risk and crisis communication training, (especially since an accident in Reno, Nevada several months ago.)
While I was in Nevada, I visited the Hoover Dam, and saw several search and rescue helicopters. When I returned to the hotel later that evening, I got a series of frantic phone calls: “A sightseeing helicopter has gone down near Lake Mead. Five people are presumed dead, are you available to help?”
I assured my caller that I was, in fact, not only available, but conveniently, already in the area. I hung up the phone to await further instructions. The phone rang an hour later with “They think they’re going to be OK. They’ve been through this before.”
This particular helicopter company (and no, I won’t name names, that would be impolite) suffered a fatal accident in 2003. The accident was blamed on pilot error and unsafe procedures. The company managed to “skate by” then and feels they can do so again.
(I concede this may appear like sour grapes, but please understand – while I was happy to help, I was also more than happy to return home. I’m relieved not to miss my son’s fourth birthday.)
The microscope any company survives under has grown stronger in the last four years, much less the last nine. Thinking you can survive an accident by running away, like you did nine years ago, shows incredible naiveté.
Online communities like Yelp and Trip Advisor resurrect the bad with the good. In any hyper-competitive environment, if you’re not controlling bad news on your agenda, your enemies will be doing it for you.
Major business errors (like critical accidents) are like scabs. Over time they lose their sensitivity, but if the scab is ripped off, the wound becomes sensitive again. It is BECAUSE this particular company has a history that the newest accident will become a much larger crisis – if they choose to ignore it. Their old scabs will be ripped off and the wounds and errors will be on display.
This is a golden opportunity to seize control of the narrative. Visibly express profound grief and sadness at the loss of customers and the loss of an employee. (That’s not being manipulative, that’s simply being human.)
Over several days, as details come out, be open and honest with what went wrong, and address the hot buttons on your terms. Explain a) how sad you now, and were nine years ago, b) what policies you changed in response to that incident, c) how these two accidents are different, and d) what new changes you will be making in response.
In short, be a caring, responsive company that cares deeply about the safety of your passengers and employees. This incident is profoundly upsetting and you will stop at nothing to prevent it from happening again.
If you do this while being authentic, public sentiment turns from anger to empathetic grief. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but manageable.
What is NOT manageable are scores of scared future customers reading online reviews from every angry customer in your past. When you allow public sentiment to stay on ‘angry,’ you open the door for people to seek revenge on a cold-hearted company that clearly doesn’t care about safety.
I use a really simple metric about releasing bad news. Will people find out about this? And if they will, do I want them finding out about it from me, or from someone else?
It’s hard to communicate effectively if your head is covered with sand.