Spicer Resigns – What Should the Face of Crisis Look Like?
With breaking news of White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer resigning today allegedly due, in part, to the newly announced White House Communications Director not having communications experience, we thought it might be appropriate to share a chapter of “The Art of Crisis Leadership” (Weinhold & Cowherd, 2016). When You’re the Face of Crisis You know them as spokespeople, press secretaries, public affairs reps, flacks and spin-doctors—that last term evoking the same warm and fuzzy feeling with the American public as “ambulance-chaser” and “wife-beater.” When a crisis engulfs their company, corporation or governmental agency, they stand in front of a bank of microphones and, with white-hot TV lights winking on and cameras rolling, they stare out into a sea of skeptical media faces and attempt to deliver a timely and coherent response on behalf of their employer. I’ve learned from so many incredible communicators who are able to perform spectacularly under duress. It is an art, not a science. Like wine, one gets better with age; there is no substitute for real experience. The best spokespeople I know are obsessive about each syllable they utter, each piece of clothing they wear and each message point they deliver. They call reporters back, treat them all fairly and never, ever compromise their integrity – they understand what reporters need and make themselves relevant to those who have editorial control. The best learn how to steer clear of organizational jargon, are detail-oriented and compassionately deliver the news in a conversational way that quickly and emotionally connects with those who consume their words. They are analytical, well-timed and process loads of information, almost instantaneously. And, they are never too high or too low – they have a steady hand under pressure no matter the gravity of the situation or tightness of deadline. And, in the event they run into a “loose-cannon” reporter, they’re able to manage the situation with the grace and humility of a verbal judo artist. And with a Peyton Manning-like approach, the best are incredibly prepared, informed and always find a way to hone their craft. You want them on your team as they understand the big picture – it’s what they do best – see the whole room. It can be a thankless job. Yet, it is an absolutely vital one. As a spokesperson, you are the generally the most frequent ambassador of your company’s brand. You are the reputational gate-keeper for your bosses and colleagues and stakeholders. Bottom line: you better not screw it up, as you can lose your job with one syllable. The pressure can be enormous, particularly with the 24-hour news cycle of today’s world. At no time was this lesson driven home to me more vividly than in the hot summer of 1997. At the tender age of 31, I was the newly-appointed public affairs director for the Baltimore Police Department when the sensational case of Charles M. Smothers II unfolded. I was returning from a vacation in Ocean City on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, when another of the department’s spokespersons called. The spokesperson had urgent news. There had been a police-involved shooting at Lexington Market, the historic indoor market downtown. An officer had shot a man with a knife. The scene was now extremely chaotic. Angry crowds were milling about. “What should I do?” the spokesperson asked in the midst of a brewing public safety crisis. “Describe what limited amount of information you have to the news media—we have to have wiggle room, as facts will evolve with each minute,” I said. “Describe what happened as some type of interaction between the responding officers and the suspect. Say that detectives are going to comprehensively investigate and interview witnesses. We need to find out more before we can talk specifically about what happened.” My modus operandi and firm teaching point is to ask as many people as possible about the facts in an evolving case, knowing there could be varying accounts. Then, when the factual stars begin to align with consistency, you know you have a solid foundation with which to stand publicly. Credibility is key. I was about to hang up when another thought occurred to me. “Whatever you do,” I said, “avoid action-oriented terms like ‘lunge’ or ‘acted aggressively’ to describe what the suspect did.” Again, what experience taught me is that very early on in police-shooting investigations, Public Information Officers, or PIOs, should never box themselves into a set of facts or circumstances that will almost always change. I wasn’t being some kind of schoolmarm-ish stickler for grammar here. I just knew we didn’t have all the facts. Characterizing the encounter without knowing exactly what took place would be irresponsible. Plus, it could potentially blow up in our faces if we used what would later prove to be the wrong words. The department spokesperson called back a short time later. She informed me that she’d done some preliminary interviews with the media. In a sheepish voice, she added: “I kind of got tripped up. And I used the word ‘lunged.’” Hearing this, I winced. “OK,” I said. “But let’s not use it anymore. And we’ll see what else transpires here.” The last thing I wanted to do was erode her confidence, as she had been the point of contact prior to me arriving back in town. I still had one more day of vacation left, so my wife and I attended a friend’s house party that evening. At some point, I learned that the officer involved in the shooting was Charles Smothers and that the man with the knife had been identified as James Quarles, now lying mortally-wounded in a hospital. But the party would hardly be a festive, care-free time for me. At a few minutes before the 11 p.m. newscast, I received an urgent call from an assignment editor at WBAL-TV (the NBC affiliate) who was about to go live. “Rob,” he said, “we have video of the Lexington Market shooting.” I was stunned. For the first time in memory,
