Communicators’ Corner

‘A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse’ is one of Shakespeare’s best known lines. The king spoke the line in Act V of the play Richard III, after losing his horse in battle. More generally the meaning of the expression is that the speaker is in great need of a particular item and is willing to trade something of great value to get it.

What does this have to do with response communications? Everything. As a battle is won with horses, so a response is won with communication. An incident that touches public stakeholders brings the response subject to their approval or disapproval. Satisfy your stakeholders and they will accept your definition of success, fail to meet their needs and concerns and they’ll reject your efforts.

Communicators seem to be the least regarded tools in an effective response, yet they are often the most crucial. Failure to fully utilize effective communicators and their product can actually warp the response itself.

The incident/unified command structure is designed to maximize the impact of decisions made by the most qualified individuals: Command decisions are made at the level of responsibility (Sections), vetted in the broadest forum (IC/UC) and implemented with full adoption and support of the entire command structure. This command structure includes the PIO, who holds similar responsibility and authority: Responsibility to provide stakeholder communication guidance and activities, and authority to vet proposed response activities to ensure stakeholder acceptance.

What does this mean?

It means that Incident/Unified Command should listen to the PIO. Words matter. What you say shapes what you do. It may be an anachronism in today’s contentious culture, but stakeholders actually expect you to do what you say you will do. They will listen to your words and expect commensurate action. The words used to describe response actions and the rationale behind them (what and why) should support response objectives and activities.

Usually they do, but sometimes they don’t. Only a professional communicator can be sure they do. Responders know how to plan the response. They’re good at it. Communicators know how to tell about it. They’re good at it.

Does it matter? Yes.

Messaging doesn’t just define a response, it ends up directing it: If you say you’re going to keep oil off the beaches, you will have to dedicate planning and resources to keep oil off the beaches. If you don’t, your statement is at best wishful thinking, at worst a lie. Stakeholders see the former as inept, the latter as cynical. ‘Inept’ and ‘Cynical’ aren’t words you want associated with your response or reputation.

Good response planning determines what will be done, why it is being done and how it will be measured. Good response communication shares this with affected stakeholders in language they understand. Unfortunately, many times the response messaging doesn’t match the response priorities. It’s communicators’ job to avoid response pitfalls to make sure it does.

What about pitfalls? What could go wrong?

What are response pitfalls? Actions or decisions that confuse, harm or obscure stakeholders’ acceptance of the response. Here are some of the most common and damaging pitfalls.

Impossible measurement

Beware of noble goals! Noble response goals can end up looking like noble gases: “Noble gases are typically highly unreactive except when under particular extreme conditions.” Not the definition of a response you want! You can’t guarantee outcome, you can only guarantee effort. Be sure messages describe response decisions or actions to meet a specific and attainable goal.

No measurement

We can easily use statements that express intent but don’t quantify activity. Every objective in a response is measurable – it’s the only way to determine success. Communicators need to ensure that all public statements are rooted in appropriate measurement.

Mixed messaging

We walk a fuzzy line between under-reacting and over-reacting, usually ending up with mixed messages. The classic oil spill mixed message is: “Oil is safe. Don’t touch it!” We struggle with how to both warn and assure stakeholders at the same time.

Misplaced measurement

You can’t measure someone else’s actions, you can only measure your own. Who is responsible for response actions? Who ‘owns’ the success or failure of the response? Success is measured with your actions and your objectives: It isn’t attainable if you depend on someone else’s actions to meet your objectives, or your actions to meet someone else’s objectives. Sounds simple, but this may be the most common pitfall.

Avoiding Measurement

The response refuses to accept… responsibility. In an effort to prevent ‘blame’, poor preparation and poor response actions aren’t identified. Quantifiable activities are avoided. Fault is avoided. Nobody steps up and says ‘I own this’. Measurement and responsibility is externalized to “someone else”.

What will your response look like to stakeholders who you are ultimately responsible to, if:

• Command has set an impossible measurement as the goal?
• Command has refused to set measurements for attaining specific objectives?
• Command has delivered mixed messages of what is safe and what isn’t?
• Command has delivered misplaced measurements and ‘passed the buck’ people not responsible for your actions?
• Command has attempted to avoid responsibility by making it someone else’s, so nobody ‘owns’ the response?

Here’s the catch: As Bob Dylan expressed eloquently’ “But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes Indeed you’re gonna have to serve somebody“. Responses have… responsibility. We all end up judged in the gimlet eye of the public. No entity escapes it. Judgement comes to those responsible. Failure to clearly identify and accept core, definable and attainable objectives leads to confusion and conflict. Bad communication leads to bad responses.

Most compellingly, bad responses lead to greater harm. Reputations are hurt. Communities are hurt. People are hurt. Trust erodes.

Sometimes the cards predicting a bad response are the cards read by the communicator. We own the ‘stink test’. We’re the only people expected to look at the response from the outside in, so we’re the only ones who will catch these pitfalls before they’re released on an unsuspecting response. Ours is the nose that matters. Stakeholder messaging must communicate priorities and avoid pitfalls. Only then can Incident/Unified Command expect either cooperation or acceptance in their actions.

We have to step up to the big table and exercise our responsibility to steer the response by steering response communication.

Depending on where you live, you’re entering week 4 of the COVID-19 pandemic. Or week 5. Or week 6. Or week ?? We all know one thing though: It’s already gone on longer than we wish it would. Here in Washington State, we’re entering week 4 of Gov. Jay Inslee’s “Stay Home, Stay Healthy” order, implemented on March 23. We’ll be staying at home and staying healthy for another three weeks, until May 4. At least.

This is a strange existence where normal measurements of success are inverted. We don’t brag about how much we do, we brag about how little: In the interest of preventing spread of COVID-19, we’re doing less and less, and being praised for it! So we stay at home, shelter at home, stay safe at home. Our greatest accomplishment seems to be in doing…nothing. We watch and listen for new developments. We applaud those who are actually risking their lives to rescue or treat the victims of the pandemic. We question the actions of all levels of response, we speculate about the cause, the spread or the outcome of the coronavirus. But mostly we wait. We endure this strange assignment of inaction. We endure for days or weeks, wondering how many months before ‘normal’. The day will come when we poke our noses out like groundhogs, hoping we aren’t startled for another six weeks by our shadow!

But not all of us wait. Some respond. Cities, Counties and States have a responsibility to ensure the safety of their residents. In a crisis virtually every jurisdiction implements Incident Command or Unified Command to provide this protection. For COVID-19, we’ve all activated and begun to do what we have all been trained to do: Organize a physical response to protect our citizens from this threat. We’ve all practiced participating in Incident Command or Unified Command. Many of us have participated in actual responses. Depending on where we live, we’ve exercised against known threats to be sure we’re ready for ‘the real one’.

Well, here it is, the ‘Real One’. Just not the ‘Real One’ most of us thought we’d face. I write Crisis Communication Plans for a living, and I confess that my plans were far lighter on the unique communication challenges of pandemic response than they should have been, certainly far lighter than future ones will be. The irony is that looking at a pandemic from the middle of one reveals that I should have done more, as I certainly could have known more. I could have predicted the unique challenges of pandemic response and done much more to prepare my clients for the strange and special world of pandemic response.

What could I have predicted? What could I have prepared my clients for? In one word, I could have prepared my Clients to endure.

The greatest need for COVID-19 responders is endurance. Why?

This response is longer than most responses

Most of us are ready for a ‘sprint’ response, not a ‘marathon’ response. We’re ready for the hurricane or tornado, the oil spill, fire or explosion. We’re ready for a Super Bowl, a WHO meeting, a terrorist attack. We’re ready for demonstrations, power outages, floods. For most, we race into Incident Command, sprint through a few operational periods, rotate from response to recovery, declare victory and go home — usually within a few days, certainly within a month. And if it goes longer we bring in reinforcements, rotate out for home and the response continues. It isn’t happening here. COVID-19 is a marathon. Most of us have been responding for a month by now, and we’re all trying to figure out when we demobilize Incident Command. We don’t know ‘when’: What we do know is ‘not yet’. Certainly not while we’re working with the healthcare system to keep people alive. Not while we’re trying to keep people home. Not while we’re coordinating delivery of services or ensuring against shortages. COVID-19 continues and the response continues. Week 1 becomes week 4, becomes week 7. Here’s a hint: If your Incident Command area of responsibility includes a school district, you’ll be in response until schools reopen.

So it’s a marathon, we’ll be ok. We’ll rotate people in and out. Really? This leads us to…

There’s nobody to replace you

There’s an old play on worlds; ‘No man is an island, but Eugene is a city in Oregon’. Well, every jurisdiction is an island in COVID-19. There are no reinforcements from cities near you. There are no trained teams to parachute in to your disaster. We are ALL in this disaster, in our own spheres. You are already out of people: what are you going to do when you run out of steam? What happens when your team starts to fall apart?

You’re going to get tired, and you’re going to get scared

One of Notre Dame football coach Vince Lombardi’s famous quotes is; ‘Fatigue makes cowards of us all’. For him it was a mantra to encourage training regimens to build endurance in his players. He recognized that the greatest impact of fatigue is fear; football games are won with one more hit. Responses are won with one more day, one more decision. But the sheer longevity of this crisis, and the length of time each of us will be involved, can lead us to bad decisions. We will be tired and we will be tempted to take the easy way out. We will miss important opportunities to do the right thing.

Survival mode will lead to bad decisions

Good decision making is a challenge when we’re fresh and focused. Incident Command is designed to preserve good decision making by allowing individuals to do what they do best, in a supportive environment of other professionals. Yet the length and pressure of this response combined with our fear and fatigue will leach our effectiveness away. We will enter into our organizational or personal survival mode, and our decisions will change. We will forget what’s good for all, and instead focus on what’s good for us. We will focus on the alligators instead of on draining the swamp. And our decisions will suffer.

We won’t adjust to the current reality

We’ll be like the lab rats, driving little cars but not getting Froot Loops. Seriously, that was a real experiment. Ongoing stress, pressure and fatigue lead us to defensive thinking; when under stress, we unconsciously want to do what worked in the past. So instead of recognizing the new, asymmetrical threats of this COVID-19 response and adapting our procedure and plans, we double down on what we were good at last time. And we waste scarce time and scarcer energy.

So how do mitigate these challenges to maximize our endurance?

Pace yourself

The current world record for a marathon is 2 hours, one minute and 31 seconds. Average speed for the winner? 4.65 Minutes per mile. The current world record for running one mile is 3.72 minutes. What do you think would happen if a runner tried to run a marathon at mile-record speed? They wouldn’t finish the marathon.

If you want to finish the COVID-19 race, or any other extended response, you need to settle in for the long run. Marathoners know how fast they need to run to finish. We need to do the same in our responses. Pace yourself.

Slow down

It seems counterintuitive, but you’ll get more done if you slow down. Plan your pace, then match your output to it. Don’t over-commit or over-react. As an example, instead of 24-hour operational periods, go to 48-hour, 72- hour or even 1-week ops periods. Every Ops period requires a round of ‘Planning P’ meetings. Save the time expended on the process by slowing the process down. You’ll have more time for more actions.

Pare down

Use your time wisely. Minimize what you have to do. Ruthlessly determine the best objectives and focus on them. Don’t just defer all the other good objectives; eliminate them. If you find time and energy later, add back the ‘good,’ but be sure you’ve energy for the ‘best’ first.

Schedule down

24-hour shifts look heroic, but they fizzle fast. Protect yourself by protecting your schedule. You’re here for the long run. Of course this means setting attainable timelines for work that has to be done.

Settle down

Remind yourself that you’re in the race to finish. Winning won’t be determined by you or your efforts. Finishing is what you have control over. Take a deep breath. Focus on the objectives you have and work through them. Avoid frenetic activity.

Rest up

When you rotate out from your shift, leave it behind. Go for a walk. Eat a good meal. Read a book. Sleep! Turn off the response. You need a break for the long run.

Build up

As you gain traction in your response actions, reevaluate response priorities again. Add in additional objectives that you know you can accomplish. Build steadily for increasingly effective outcomes.

Buckle up

Remind yourself that this will be a long and likely bumpy road. You will have successes but you’ll also have failures. Celebrate the successes and learn from the failures. Keep learning and adapting — you’ll be able to do this because you’ve avoided the fear of fatigue.

Journal up

Keep a written record of what works and what doesn’t. You’ll forget what you learn if you don’t keep track of it. Write down your successes and your failures so you can review them later. Write down what you’re learn NOW – don’t wait to learn later.

If you want to talk about this more, contact me, or add your comments below!

Accidents are inevitable, so we prepare for them.

Good communication planning includes preemptive actions to build stakeholder trust and acceptance. We work hard to make sure our neighbors and communities understand that we are trying to be good neighbors. We bank on their goodwill and make sure we’re ready to respond to the inevitable accident. We plan and prepare.

Our messaging is designed to support our response efforts, to remind stakeholders of our commitment to our community. We prepare key messages to use when needed; messages to assure affected people that we are responding as well as we can. We plan and prepare for community acceptance of our activities.

And as the joke says; “Sixty percent of the time it works all of the time.”

Inevitably and despite our plans and preparation, in a response a common foe may raise its head. Individuals don’t accept our response actions, or they don’t accept our role, or they decide to be offended, or they overreact and out-shout our message. They get afraid and frustrated that they’re not being cared for. And outrage rises – pent up frustration, anger, fear self-righteousness, enmity; the list reads like a list of ‘thou shalt nots’. But it is real, and often based on reality.

The ‘outrage balloon’ begins to fill with pent up FODU – Fear, Outrage, Doubt, Uncertainty. It grows, and grows, looming over the response and our reputation. One thing is certain – a bloated outrage balloon usually bursts with uncontrollable force, damaging everything in its path; response efforts, reputation, community trust, even the well-meaning, honest and skilled responders desperately trying to resolve the situation.

How do we prevent the damage? We’ve got to burst the balloon early. How do we identify a filling outrage balloon and how do we burst it?

Identifying outrage

Consider your own anger. How does your behavior change when you become increasingly frustrated or angry? We get loud, or we go silent. We stop listening. We raise our voices. We start talking over other people. We attack the messenger. We argue. We accuse. We demand. We walk out. We hang up.

Organizations and groups of people act like…. people. So if you’re hearing anger and seeing it, you’ve likely got outrage swelling. Don’t delay identification of outrage. Better to diagnose it too early, than too late.

Addressing Outrage

Deal Quickly: We don’t have a lot of time to deal with outrage – it forms quickly, and will multiply faster than we can keep up.

Deal Clearly: Identify the specific outrage you want to address, and address it. As with relationships, there’s no such thing as a general apology: Exactly what did you do wrong? How did you offend?

Deal honestly: Own what you own. Admit when you’re wrong. Take responsibility. No weaseling. Don’t blast past the apology part. Let it set in that you are seriously sorry for what happened. A long moment of silence is good at this point. Don’t rush your stakeholders to accept your apology. Don’t jump past it to how good you’re going to be. Listen for a minute.

A word about ‘I’m sorry’: An apology is not always an expression of guilt. We are all sorry for a lot of things we didn’t cause. You can be sorry for the impact of an incident even if you’re not sure you caused it. One certain outrage-accelerator is your refusal to acknowledge it: “We are truly sorry for the inconvenience this has caused” sounds, and is, far more caring than “We can’t comment on the cause (read: blame for) of this event at this time”.

Promise better: They may not believe you, but you need to express intent for the future. Keep it simple and short, and leave it with your listeners. Don’t cover up good intentions with blather. Keep it simple and direct. There will be plenty of time to talk about it more.

Stop and listen: Give time for understanding. Let your listeners react. Accept further upset. Thank them for sharing. Promise additional information when you have it. Remind them of resources available.

Rocket science?

I know, this isn’t rocket science. We all know to do this. But stress, attack and fatigue can strip us of our sense. It’s easy to do, but it’s also easy to forget. It’s helpful to plan for, so add ‘Apology’ to your crisis communication strategy and plan – and make sure the approval dragon is dealt with.

A Good Example

Boeing has had their share of challenges that have culminated in a challenging (to say the least) stakeholder communication environment. Safe to say that the outrage balloon is always out of the package, ready to be inflated! Even in this environment, can the outrage balloon be burst in time?

Consider their recent run-in with noise restrictions: A delayed series of engine test runs resulted in widespread community concern. You can see the outrage coming in the first paragraphs of the Seattle Times article:

“Residents near Boeing Field, from Georgetown to the west and as far as Mercer Island to the east, were blitzed with long and extraordinarily loud jet engine noise late Tuesday night.

The culprit was Boeing, which broke a community noise curfew by running protracted engine runs on its new 777-9X at the north end of the airfield until after midnight.”

Think of where this could have gone for Boeing. But it didn’t and it hasn’t. Why not? Look at what Boeing said: “There is no excuse,” said Boeing spokesman Bernard Choi. “We’re apologizing to nearby residents.”

A rapid, direct and simple addressing of the issue. Accepting responsibility, acknowledging fault and expressing an apology. And later, another statement from Boeing: “This was not a normal occurrence and we are making adjustments to prevent it from happening in the future”.

Simple, direct and honest. And the outrage balloon is burst. Good work, Boeing!

Questions? Did you hear ideas in this post that you’ve never heard of before? Contact me!

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