Mike Unger

 

In reality, reality has little to do with it.

“Perception trumps reality 100 percent of the time,” said Richard Levick ’87. “The facts do not get to the light of day.”

Levick’s a man who ought to know. As president and CEO of Levick Strategic Communi-cations, the Washington College of Law graduate has worked with countries and companies managing communications crises ranging from the spinach, pet food, and toy recalls to Guantanamo Bay. He delivered a lively talk on his industry Wednesday at WCL during the Richard S. Levick Annual Lecture in Crisis Communication and International Law.

“All crisis communication is ultimately a Shakespearian tragedy,” he said. “You have to have your hero, and you have to have your villain. Those are the only two roles.”

Levick stressed the importance of getting a client’s message out as quickly as possible, a course of action often contrary to lawyers’ instincts to remain quiet. In the era of 24-hour news cycles, silence is death.

“Those who wait become the villain,” he said.

Levick led the audience through a fascinating exercise in which he asked people to close their eyes and visualize the first image that came to mind when he said “Exxon.” Everyone’s initial thought was of the Valdez, the company’s oil tanker that crashed in Alaska in 1989 causing an environmental catastrophe in Prince William Sound. He then asked audience members to shut their eyes again, this time to think about a commercial—any commercial—the company has run in the ensuing years. When he asked who could conjure an image—any image—no hands went up.

“A crisis is a moment of truth,” he said. “The Valdez was their moment of truth. We are likely to run away from a crisis. We should do the exact opposite. Crises is about leadership and courage.”

Levick traced major changes in the communication world back to three key events. First was the case of “Baby” Jessica McClure, the toddler whose fall into and subsequent rescue out of a well in Texas captivated the nation in 1987.

“CNN was a tiny little Atlanta network that no one watched,” Levick said. “For the first time, CNN did wall-to-wall coverage. It had not happened before except for presidential funerals. Three-point-one million people were glued to their television sets, and with it developed a whole new industry—cable news. What are they going to cover when the Jessica McClures are not falling down wells or the Paris Hiltons are not getting out of rehab?”

The 1982 congressional repeal of the Public Fairness Doctrine opened the gate to opinionated talk radio, and the Monica Lewinsky affair in the late 1990s brought the importance of online bloggers to light.

“Seventy-one percent of journalists bookmark their favorite blog sources,” Levick said. “It used to be that the media was get it right and get it first. We are no longer concerned about getting it right; it’s about getting it first.”

The key to crisis communications, Levick stressed, is communicating, as quickly and in as organized a fashion as possible after an event occurs.

“If you’re not going to communicate, you better make sure you can withstand being thought of in the marketplace as guilty,” he said. “You have just conceded the entire story to your adversary. How many people want their obituary written by their ex?”