Damage Control: Author Dezenhall Challenges Tylenol Cyanide Scare Response, Conventional PR Wisdom

Damage Control: Author Dezenhall Challenges Tylenol Cyanide Scare Response, Conventional PR Wisdom

This week's spotlight: Eric Dezenhall, CEO, Dezenhall Resources

The old rules of crisis management don't cut it anymore, believes D.C.-based communications exec and author Eric Dezenhall. What's more: This is 25th anniversary of the Tylenol cyanide scare, which Dezenhall says should not be upheld as a model of crisis management. "The myth is they immediately recalled the product, but it actually took eight days. Retailers began pulling it first," says Dezenhall, who began his career in the White House Office of Communications during the Reagan presidency and has since managed "monster controversies" for top brands and personalities in the pharmaceuticals, petrochemical and entertainment sectors.

"This is important because you now have everybody upholding the 'instant recall.' But it's unrealistic because companies would constantly be in recall mode if they were to follow that line of thinking," explains Dezenhall, whose recently released Damage Control: Why Everything You Know about Crisis Management is Wrong advances similar claims and more.

"Another reason this is a bad model is nobody was blaming Johnson & Johnson for poisoning people," Dezenhall continues. "Everyone understood there was a madman on the loose and the company was a victim. It's easier to get out of a crisis in such 'sniper crises.' Far more common are 'character crises,' where the company is the villain. Those are harder to manage."

In addition: "There was also a very easy action you could take if you didn't want to die during the Tylenol scare. You threw out your Tylenol. But imagine telling a woman with breast implants to take them out," Dezenhall posits. "Imagine telling someone who bought a $40,000 SUV to take it back. Ridiculous. You can't. So the Tylenol case was a relative storm of very easy actions and scenarios that shouldn't be held up for today's practitioners," he reiterates. "It's not the model we should be following—just as Calamine lotion isn't the antidote to diabetes. It's the wrong set of 'solutions' for managing the types of crises most of us face."

Read on for more of Dezenhall's controversial take on this sacred cow of crisis communications, his assessment of JetBlue's recent crisis response—and his sometimes surprising "new rules" of practicing PR in an increasingly adversarial age:

How did the Tylenol case come to be so iconic if it's such a bad model?

The reason it became known for being so brilliantly managed is that a PR firm that didn't handle it wrote a case study declaring it to be brilliant. They rewrote the facts and went around on road shows for years proselytizing the case.

Basically, it came down to some very clever PR people rewriting how it went down, positioning it as their own work—and then using it as a rainmaking tool. From there, lots of PR people preached this case for new business development purposes. Business school professors also love this case study and the "theories" behind it because it's so neat and tidy. But the truth is crises are typically far messier. Traditional crisis communications is rarely up to the task.

What's "wrong" with crisis communications as we know it?

Conventional crisis communications is about issuing apologies, staying on message and getting out there quickly. That's insufficient. It should be more about recognizing that modern crises aren't always organic and simple. Instead, they're agenda-driven conflicts catalyzed by motivated adversaries. The best way to answer the question, then, is to say that modern crises aren't communications problems. They're conflicts.

Conventional PR is anchored in the belief that the public want to be educated, as if the public is waiting to hear more about what an industrial polluter has to say. But the truth is the public isn't listening. The Edward Bernays school of PR assumes that the public is a blank state to be manipulated. But my experience is they're not even listening. The public doesn't yearn to be educated by multinationals. So my perspective is that true crisis communications now is more guerrilla warfare than conventional warfare.

You claim in your book that PR isn't the best discipline to combat crisis—why?

The answer is it's not in the DNA of most PR people to do what's necessary to manage a crisis. PR people by nature tend to be positive people who are very uncomfortable with the existence of conflict. They want it all to be OK. The problem with that is everything won't be OK when you're dealing with conflicts. What you have to look at in any crisis is not only what the problem is, but also what the DNA is of the people at table.

Corporate PR people are used to communicating positive information. They're not used to sparring with people who want to hurt them. Their job is about building and maintaining "relations." That makes sense when the focus is on news releases, speeches and the usual corporate communications mission. In that sphere, their DNA is correct. But not when you're dealing with crisis management, where you're facing hostile parties. Political-oriented PR people are less limited that way.

How does that critique of the typical PR mindset translate to advice for readers?

For starters, corporations and their PR representatives should be better at attracting people to the table who have been through litigation. Bring on people who know what it's like to have protesters out there. Hire PR team members who have dealt with savage litigation and blanket negative media coverage. Realize that PR people who come from the marketing or "promotional" sphere are disasters at mitigating crisis.

Another tip that comes out of this is to be aware of your own hard wiring. If you abhor confrontation, don't volunteer for crisis work. Admit that you should be on the marketing side—and work hard to find the right partners to sit with you at the table when crisis strikes.

Who are those right people—who should be in the war room?

Let's start with who shouldn't be there. Mid-level people with no decision-making power—get them out of the room. Others include: technical people with no capacity to summarize complicated things for public consumption, and note-takers or people who feel compelled to send detailed emails on laptops about the proceedings. When there's someone in the room taking detailed notes, I get up. I've had too many situations where I've later seen my memos in the newspaper. You never know the loyalties of the people in the room.

Could you explain that statement—why do you say that?

A corporation under siege is no longer a company. It's a collection of individuals looking for self preservation, so you never know who will send that email to The Wall Street Journal.

So back to the question: Who absolutely must be in the room?

The top lawyer, the top business manager or your CEO, a crisis counselor and an expert on whatever the technical issue or question is that's under consideration. That's it. And yes, you need a PR person in the room—but it has to be someone who is adept at dealing with bad news. If that's not you, find that person and get him or her in there.

What are some of your "new rules" of crisis management?

Don't try to spin a public that doesn't want to be spun. For example, BP's feel-good advertising didn't win over the public following 2005-6 allegations of leaks and commodity trading fraud. And don't confuse crises with conflicts, nuisances or marketplace assaults. HP made the mistake of inflating its 2006 boardroom leak nuisance into a crisis.

What is the number one crisis tip you learned during your tenure at the White House?

The most important factor in who survives a crisis is the fundamental likeability of the target. People liked Reagan. They let him slide on a lot of things. I was a 22 year old kid. I wasn't a power player, but I do recall that Deputy White House Chief of Staff Mike Deaver would rarely let Reagan talk to hostile audiences with the belief he would win them over. Instead, he was just put in situations where he was strong and audiences liked him.

So the tip is this: Nothing is to be gained by trying to convince people who hate you to like you. Preach to the choir instead.

Brian Pittman; bpittman@bulldogreporter.com