Tag Archives: reputation management

THE VALUE OF HAVING SEEN IT BEFORE

THE VALUE OF HAVING SEEN IT BEFORE

There is a point in many careers when experience becomes a euphemism. You are praised for having accumulated it, then quietly encouraged to make room for somebody with less of it!

This is an odd approach to professional advice. We would not question the value of an experienced surgeon, barrister or pilot. Yet in communications, familiarity with what happened last time can be treated as less useful than enthusiasm for whatever might come next.

At Gong, our senior team includes four advisers with more than 25 years’ experience each. Between us, we have worked through short-seller attacks, difficult corporate transactions, security alerts, hostile media campaigns and intensely personal situations involving senior leaders. We have advised organisations operating across markets where commercial decisions are closely entwined with politics, communities alongside public expectations.

We have also launched companies into sceptical markets, introduced journalists to technologies that barely made sense at the time and managed important events at which the guest of honour was several hours late. Experience teaches you that reputational challenges come in many forms. Some are genuinely serious. Others look serious at the time but can be resolved with a calm head and good judgement.

The value clients get from an experienced adviser is not simply knowledge of communications. It is judgement about what matters now, what may matter in two hours and what will probably have disappeared by tomorrow morning.

Knowing when an issue is serious

One member of our team once received a call from an FT journalist who had heard a short seller publicly criticising a client’s accounting practices. The short seller’s name was not widely recognised at the time, but it was familiar to the adviser because of an earlier attack on another complex international business.

That recollection changed the assessment immediately. This was not treated as an awkward media enquiry to be managed by the communications team. The chief executive was alerted at once. He abandoned his travel plans, cleared his diary and led the response.

The attack developed into a sustained and aggressive campaign, but the company was ready to rebut the accusations clearly from the outset. It emerged from the episode in a stronger position.

It is tempting to describe this as instinct. In reality, instinct in business is often experience arriving at a conclusion before we have had time to write the conclusion down.

In reputation management, the visible problem is not always the most important one. An unhelpful article may pass quickly. A seemingly obscure allegation may be the opening move in a much more serious challenge. The adviser’s job is to distinguish between them without either creating panic or offering reassurance that events may soon disprove.

As Sir Andrew Likierman, former Dean of London Business School, has written, judgement is the ability to combine personal qualities with relevant knowledge and experience to form opinions and make decisions. That combination matters because reputational questions rarely arrive with complete evidence or an obvious answer.

Preventing the crisis that never happens

The most valuable communications work is sometimes the work nobody notices.

A private equity client was preparing to sell an education and professional qualifications business. The transaction depended on securing sufficient support from its membership and student community. A vote against the sale would have jeopardised the exit and created a much wider reputational problem. Our team did not wait for opposition to gather momentum. We developed a campaign that brought students into the discussion directly, including through events on campus. Local radio, newspapers and video were used to explain the case for the transaction in terms that mattered to the people being asked to support it. The necessary vote was secured. There was no crisis, no emergency response and no dramatic story about how the business had been saved. The transaction simply moved forward.

The value of strategic communications often lies in recognising where confidence could break down while there is still time to act.

Calm does not mean passive

Another member of the team was working on a large event at a mixed-use development in a developing market when rumours of a bomb alert began circulating on social media. Senior people from the private equity owners were brought together on site. The team established what was known, prepared an accurate statement and arranged a press briefing within hours. The aim was not merely to respond quickly. It was to answer the questions that would otherwise be filled by speculation. The rumour lost momentum and the event went ahead the following day, attended by hundreds of people.

Calm advice rarely looks dramatic. In this case, it meant establishing the facts, anticipating questions and preventing speculation from taking hold.  Experience also teaches that not every question needs an immediate answer and that clients rarely benefit from false certainty.

Not every accusation deserves an explanation

Organisations under attack often feel compelled to explain themselves immediately. That can be a mistake, particularly when the allegation itself is untrue.

One client faced hostile coverage after competitors briefed a national newspaper about its business. The instinctive response might have been to produce a lengthy defence, addressing each claim and explaining the context. Instead, our team examined the premise of the story and concluded that the central assertions were false.

Lawyers were brought in and the original story was stopped.

The right response is not always to communicate more. Sometimes it is to correct the record firmly; sometimes it is to say very little. The decision turns on the facts, the credibility of the source and the consequences of allowing the allegation to stand.

The task is not to apply a standard response process, but to recognise which kind of problem the organisation is facing. 

The right experience in the room

Clients rarely come to us because life is calm. It might be that something important is changing, a decision is attracting attention, expectations have shifted, or a situation that once felt manageable has evolved into something unexpectedly complex.

Communications expertise matters in those moments, but experience matters too. Not because it gives anyone a crystal ball, but because it helps separate what is genuinely unusual from what simply feels unusual in the moment.

The examples here come from four members of our team, but the underlying experience is broader. Across Gong, advisers have supported organisations through transactions, scrutiny and periods of significant change in different sectors and markets. The common task is helping clients make clear decisions when pressure makes that harder.

Experience cannot prevent the unexpected. Its value is having people beside you who can keep their perspective when it happens.

STARMER NEVER FOUND THE SENTENCE

STARMER NEVER FOUND THE SENTENCE 

Sir Keir Starmer’s resignation as UK Prime Minister has prompted plenty of political analysis. But for anyone who works with leaders on messaging, media interviews and presentations, there is a more specific lesson.

The issue was not simply that Starmer needed to communicate more. It was that he needed to find a clearer, more human way to explain what he was trying to do and why it mattered.

That is a problem for any leader.

It is also why the usual line that ‘he did nothing’ is too simple. There were things his government said it would do and then did. Workers’ rights are a good example. While not everyone saw those changes as positive, many employers for example have real concerns about complexity and the impact on business, but politically, it was a significant piece of delivery. It was part of the offer. It happened.

And yet it did not seem to cut through.

That is the communications lesson. Delivery does not speak for itself.  A policy may pass for instance, or a reform may be introduced. A promise may technically be kept. But if people cannot understand what has changed and how it connects to their own lives, it may not land as progress at all.

Many senior figures have a strategy. They have policy detail, evidence, briefings, announcements and proof points. What they often do not have is the sentence. The clear, human line that explains what they are doing and why people should care.

Starmer’s difficulty was that he often sounded prepared, but was not always understood. Serious, but not always connected. Across interviews, speeches and public appearances, the message often felt managed rather than, well,  felt. There was no simple organising thought that people could repeat back.

That is a dangerous place for any leader to be.

If people cannot describe what you stand for, they will fill the gap themselves. If they cannot see how your work connects to their lives, they may conclude nothing is happening. If your language sounds more internal than human, you may look competent in the room but remote outside it.

This is where leadership communication often breaks down.

People don’t experience government, business or institutional life as a list of achievements. People experience pressure, they face uncertainty, frustration and hope. They experience whether they can get a doctors’ appointment, pay the bills, manage work, care for their family or feel that things are moving in the right direction.

Good messaging has to connect with that reality.

On workers’ rights, for example, the stronger communication route would not have been to rely on the language of legislation or the biggest upgrade in a generation. It would have been to keep translating the change into everyday terms. What does it mean for someone who gets ill and cannot afford to lose pay? What does it mean for someone on insecure hours? What does it mean for a small business trying to plan properly? What are the trade-offs, and why does the government think they are worth it?

That is the sort of language people can test against their own lives.

The stronger approach would have been to explain the work in language people could actually use and recognise. And this is something that The Mayor of New York City, Zohran Mamdani has done well, using a direct and jargon free communications style.

What is the one thing people need to understand? What is the human problem being solved? What proof point makes that believable? What is still difficult, and how do you acknowledge that without sounding defensive?

Those questions matter in a media interview, but they matter just as much in a board presentation, a town hall, a pitch or a crisis statement. Leaders are judged not only on what they do, but on whether they can make people understand the purpose behind it.

This is not about becoming more performative. It is not about chasing charisma or trying to sound like someone else. In fact, that is often where leaders get into trouble because audiences can feel when tone is being bolted on.  The real skill is finding language that is clear enough to travel and authentic enough to believe.

Sir Keir’s communication often seemed to sit somewhere between policy language and political slogan. ‘Change’ was too broad to carry the weight of government. The missing piece was a more concrete expression of what that change meant in everyday terms.

Before any major speech, media interview or public moment, the test should be simple. Can you say what you mean in a sentence a real person would understand? Can you say it under pressure? Can you say it without sounding as though it has been written for you? And can your audience repeat it afterwards?

If the answer is no, it’s not ready for the public.

Starmer’s departure will be analysed politically at length.  But from a communications point of view, it is a reminder that leadership depends on more than plans, policies or competence.  At some point, every leader has to stand up and make people understand. He never quite did.

(With thanks to Pippa for the original inspiration behind this article).

CORPORATE REPUTATION STRATEGY – THE LEADERSHIP WORK BEHIND TRUST

CORPORATE REPUTATION STRATEGY – THE LEADERSHIP WORK BEHIND TRUST

A corporate reputation strategy should begin with a simple question. What would make this organisation easier to trust?

Not easier to like. Not easier to recognise. Easier to trust.

Trust is not a communications theme. It is a leadership condition

That distinction matters. This year, at Anthropy, the leadership conference focused on creating a better, fairer Britain, two conversations on the trust deficit and the role of reputation in national prosperity returned to the same idea, that trust is not a warm value or a communications theme. It is a condition for leadership. It’s the thing that allows people to follow, invest, support, work with, forgive or believe an organisation when the stakes are high.

One contributor described trust as predictability. We trust people and institutions when we can predict that they will do what they said they would do, especially when circumstances become difficult. Trust is not only a value. It is behaviour under pressure.

This is the point many organisations underestimate. Trust is not built in the moment of scrutiny. It is built in the months and years before, through consistency, competence and the way leaders respond when they are challenged. It arrives slowly and leaves quickly. Or, as one Dutch saying quoted during the discussion puts it, trust comes on foot and leaves on a horse.

Why leaders now need to act as trust brokers

The context is not forgiving. People are becoming more insular in where they get information and who they are willing to believe. If audiences are more fragmented, organisations cannot assume that authority, scale or goodwill that has been built up over the past will carry the argument. That makes the role of business and institutions more important, not less. One of the more useful ideas from the panel was that leaders increasingly have to act as trust brokers. Not by smoothing over disagreement, but by creating spaces where shared goals can be found, tensions can be acknowledged, and people can argue without losing sight of common purpose.

That calls for empathy and active listening, but above all it calls for courage. Leaders need to be able to speak with candour, even when the message is uncomfortable. They must make difficult trade-offs visible where they can, and resist the temptation to govern by opinion poll.

Trust depends on giving people a fair picture

Trust becomes harder to earn when people feel they are being managed rather than informed. That does not mean every detail can or should be shared in every situation. But it does mean organisations need to communicate in a way that is accurate and grounded in reality.

The behaviours that damage trust are often not dramatic. They are the small decisions that make people question the organisation’s judgement. Claims start to run ahead of the evidence. Important context gets left out. Communications is used to make a difficult situation look tidier than it is.

That is why communications needs to be involved before the message is written. For boards, CEOs and leadership teams, the value of communications is not simply in finding better words after a decision has been made. It is in helping leaders see whether that decision will stand up to scrutiny, and what needs to change before the organisation asks people to believe it.

Trust is built or weakened in the gap between words and behaviour

Trust is earned through what an organisation does and how it communicates when people are watching closely. Communication also has to be two-way. Listening that changes nothing is not listening. Compassion that leaves behaviour untouched is sentiment. Purpose that is not delivered becomes branding.

The panels were clear that trust rarely collapses because of one act. It is weakened by patterns people start to notice such as leaders sticking to a line after the evidence has shifted, organisations hiding behind partial transparency, cultures that blame elsewhere, or a gap between public values and private behaviour. Each can feel small or explainable at the time. Together, they start to erode trust.

Reputation risk starts before there is a visible issue

That is why reputation risk communications should begin before there is a visible issue. The useful question is not “what would we say if this became public?” but “what are people already experiencing that would make our explanation harder to believe?”

The answer is often cultural. Do people feel safe enough to raise bad news, and can leaders hear criticism without becoming defensive? Is there room to say “we got this wrong” or “we have changed our mind” without that being treated as failure? Vulnerability was raised in the trust discussion not as a performance of openness, but as evidence of leadership maturity. Politicians should take note. A policy U-turn can be weakness, but it can also show that new evidence has been heard. The media has a role here too. If every change of mind is treated as humiliation, leaders have little incentive to learn in public. In a culture that treats every change of mind as weakness, it takes discipline to show learning in public.

Reputation and trust are economic assets

The same themes appeared in the discussion on national prosperity. Reputation and trust were described not as soft intangibles, but as economic assets. Admiration and respect do not simply happen. They come through performance, genuine engagement, stewardship and confidence that an organisation will still be here, and still be behaving responsibly, in ten years’ time.

That matters for large companies, but it is just as relevant to mid-sized businesses, charities and public-facing organisations with leaner teams and smaller communications budgets. Trust is not a luxury reserved for institutions with large corporate affairs departments. It is part of the licence to operate.

Crisis readiness

Crisis makes this visible. One panellist reflected that a crisis can destroy value, but handled well it can also build it. The formula was not complicated: grip, action, then communication. Not communication instead of action. First, show that someone capable is in charge. Then explain what is being done.

Many organisations may not have a crisis in front of them, but they may already have a trust gap ie between what the business promises and what stakeholders experience; between the confidence of the leadership team and the confidence of employees; between the ambition of the strategy and the evidence available to investors, customers or communities.

Stakeholder communications strategy should work from the outside in

The organisations that handle this best tend to work from the outside in. They make the customer, beneficiary, employee or community the centre of the story. They understand that a stakeholder communications strategy is not a static map, but a live reading of who needs confidence, what they fear, and what proof they need.  There was a strong reminder from the charity and community sector here. Smaller organisations often hold deep trust because they put the individual at the heart of decisions. They may look messier than large institutions, but they can be closer to lived experience. Larger organisations have something to learn from that proximity.

The leadership challenge is becoming more demanding

The leadership challenge is also changing. Results matter. But the best leaders act as stewards as well as operators. They create a future others can believe in. They stop behaving as the hub through which every answer must pass. They trust their teams, build human connections and make it safer for the organisation to tell itself the truth.   This is not a softer view of leadership. It is a more demanding one. It asks for clarity about why the organisation exists, simplicity in how decisions are explained, and delivery that people can see and feel. It asks the question one panellist put plainly. The ‘so what?’

So what changed for the people we serve? So what did we learn? So what are we doing differently because we listened? So what would make someone trust us more tomorrow than they did yesterday?

Before AI disrupts trust, is the organisation itself trustworthy?

The same questions will become sharper as AI changes how organisations make decisions and explain them. That deserves its own discussion. For now, the test is simpler: if technology makes trust harder to earn, is it strong enough inside the organisation itself? Trust is built long before a moment of scrutiny. It grows when organisations do what they said they would do, and when their behaviour under pressure matches the promises they make in calmer moments. It is strengthened when leaders listen early enough to change course before confidence is lost.

For any company, charity or institution operating in public view, the work is not to sound more trustworthy.

It is to become easier to trust

GLOBAL AGRI CRISIS

GLOBAL AGRI CRISIS

Our client, a listed global agri-business, was accused of dubious accounting practices by an infamous US short seller.

His previous high-profile targets included a company called Sinai Forest, (with high-profile investors including the legendary hedge fund manager John Paulson) whose shares lost so much value during the reputation crisis that the company ceased trading, leaving only the short seller with a valuable upside.

The Gong team were first ‘to the scene’ when the story was about to break in London. The Financial Times called us with their story and we sprang into action. Our recommended strategy was to retaliate forcefully to refute the false claims, rather than hunker down and try to ‘ride out’ the storm.

After an intensive period of media coverage and speculation and consistent presentation of the facts by the client, it emerged stronger from the crisis with its reputation as a business force for good not only intact, but strengthened by its high profile sustainability ‘next’ practices.