My 12 golden rules in a crisis

Here’s how Rupert and co might have handled things.

Every crisis is different and often a media storm in politics is different from a media storm in the corporate world. But there are some important rules to follow, so here is my check list. See if you think News International has managed to follow any of them so far:

1. Establish a clear decision making operation - UK-wide, or any other region around the world, ideally slightly distant from the ongoing delivery of the business itself. Perhaps News International have done just this but it is currently hard to tell.

2. Identify early on a credible talking head who has been media trained, someone who demonstrates they understand the problem and can roll with the punches - not someone on the defensive.

3. Get good independent advice both PR and legal. If you are in a media storm your decision making will suffer, as will that of others inside the organisation because their jobs are on the line. And ensure that the independent advisers are sufficiently senior to tell the people at the very top of the organisation what to do.

4. If someone/anyone has suffered as a result of your actions, show empathy from the very top of the organisation.

5. If you are door stepped or on camera think in advance about the image - look and sound serious, and be polite. So far James Murdoch with a body guard in a yellow jacket and Rupert Murdoch and Rebecca Wade grinning off to dinner (see point 3 about empathy) have completely failed this test. The best role model? Bill Clinton. He was always polite, always friendly whatever the media storm.

6. The most important rule of all: establish what the truth is; decide how it will be told. Sounds easy but it's mission impossible in most organisations. Ultimately, the truth will get out so establish how you want it to be told and, above all, tell it. Do not allow it to seep out day by day, one painful revelation at a time - this keeps the crisis going.

7. An organisation in a crisis will leak so ensure that communication to all employees comes from the very top -- but assume that every word of it will get out. At the same time ensure highly effective communication with everyone in the company. That way they can become advocates alongside you.

8. There is some merit in doing the opposite of what your instincts tell you, so be more open and accessible, always be polite. There's a case study about a bank in the Netherlands which held daily press conferences. It may sound like madness but it put them back in the driving seat. An open approach would mean saying "yes" immediately to a Select Committee - or indeed offering to do it in advance. An open approach would mean Rupert Murdoch flying into London and asking to meet with Alan Rusbridger to see all the evidence and put his company right immediately. An open approach would be an offer to fund the judicial inquiry, or fund a trust to represent victims in a media storm.

9. Run a parallel investor relations operation and a parallel public affairs operation -- reassurance and communication with "stakeholders" are critical.

10. No-one is indispensible, however much you like them.

11. Most lawyers will tell you to say "no comment". Don't always assume in a media storm that is the right thing to do.

12. Say sorry. Say it quickly and keep saying it.

My guess is that some of this is happening. But many journalists are awful at crisis communications, especially when they are in the storm themselves. It is a very different experience when the microscope is turned on you. When you are in the media spotlight it distorts all rational thought - it is exhausting, feels never ending and all invasive.

Anyone reading this who has been followed by snappers, hustled on their doorstep, comforted loved ones after abuse has been shouted through their letter box or at school, followed everywhere by a motorbike, will know and understand what I am describing - logical decisions or the right decisions are tough in that environment.

Perhaps that explains why, as far as I can see, News International is, contrary to Rupert Murdoch's claims in the Wall Street Journal, struggling to handle this crisis.

Aside from the obvious "don't do it in the first place", have I missed any golden rules out? Please feel free to add some more.

 

Getty
Show Hide image

The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era