PR Consultancy

Chapter 1: Redefining Crisis in the 21st Century

The nature of crisis has changed dramatically over the past decade. When Steven Fink published his seminal work on crisis communications in 2013, the landscape looked entirely different. I hold enormous respect for Fink, and his work laid the foundations for much of how we understand modern crisis response today. His insights into the cycle of a crisis and the need for structured communication under pressure remain invaluable.

But the world around us has evolved at breakneck speed. While reputation management and timely response were already key principles back then, the rapid rise of digital technology, social media, and cyber threats has completely reshaped the dynamics of crisis. We're no longer operating in the same environment that Fink described, and our approaches must evolve accordingly.

In 2013, crises were often localised or relatively contained. Traditional media such as television, radio, and print dominated the conversation, giving organisations precious time to respond and some measure of control over how the story unfolded. There was a rhythm to crisis communication that allowed for deliberation, consultation, and careful message crafting.

Fast-forward to today, and crises can erupt and escalate within minutes. Thanks to digital platforms, a situation can spiral globally before an official statement is even drafted. Every word, photograph, or moment of silence can be dissected and reshared by millions in real time. The democratisation of information has fundamentally altered the power dynamics of crisis communication.

Where once organisations could control the narrative through carefully managed press releases and established media relationships, today every stakeholder is a potential broadcaster. Employees share internal communications on social media platforms. Customers post real-time updates from affected locations. Witnesses livestream events as they unfold. The traditional gatekeepers of information, journalists, editors, still matter enormously, but they're no longer the only voices that count in shaping public perception.

With a smartphone in every hand, anyone can be a crisis communicator, and every social media platform can amplify the message. The implications are profound: organisations can no longer control the flow of information, they must engage meaningfully in the conversations already happening around them.

One of the most dramatic shifts has been the rise in cyber attacks. According to the Reputation Institute's 2023 Global Crisis Report, nearly 80% of organisations worldwide have experienced a cyber incident in the past two years—compared to less than 40% just a decade ago. These incidents aren't merely technical breaches that can be quietly resolved behind the scenes. They threaten customer trust, damage reputations, and present serious communication dilemmas. Organisations must walk a precarious tightrope—being transparent without compromising ongoing investigations or breaching legal requirements.

Cyber crises represent a particularly complex challenge because they often involve multiple layers of uncertainty that unfold over extended periods. The full scope of a breach may not be known for weeks or months. The perpetrators remain anonymous and their motivations unclear. The potential for ongoing damage continues long after the initial incident has been contained. Traditional crisis communication models, built around known facts and clear timelines, struggle to address these new realities effectively.

Dr. Sherry Turkle, a professor at MIT who has spent decades studying the psychology of digital communication, observes that "we are living through a moment when the very foundations of how we communicate are shifting beneath our feet." Her research reveals that digital environments create unique psychological pressures that traditional crisis models simply weren't designed to handle. The speed, scale, and emotional intensity of online communication create what she calls "a perfect storm for misunderstanding and escalation."

At the Chartered Institute of Public Relations (CIPR), where I studied crisis communications, there's growing recognition that today's crises are no longer just operational or reputational, they’re increasingly emotional and psychological. This shift demands a more human, more nuanced approach to leadership and communication that goes far beyond the technical aspects of message distribution.

The emotional dimension of modern crisis cannot be overstated. In our hyperconnected world, people don't just hear about crises, they experience them viscerally through their screens. Social media algorithms amplify emotional content, creating echo chambers of anxiety and outrage that can persist long after the initial incident. The 24/7 news cycle keeps traumatic events in constant circulation, preventing the natural healing that comes with time and distance.

The result is a population that's increasingly sensitised to crisis, more likely to have strong emotional reactions, and more sceptical of institutional responses. Research by Dr. Larry Rosen, professor emeritus at California State University, shows that constant exposure to crisis-related content through digital media creates what he terms “iDisorder”, a state of chronic stress and hyper vigilance that affects how people process information during actual crises.

His studies reveal that people who consume high levels of crisis-related content online show measurably higher levels of anxiety and are more likely to interpret ambiguous information negatively.

My training in cyberpyschology, an emerging field, reveals just how profoundly digital environments shape human behaviour during crisis. People's emotions, decisions, and perceptions are all influenced by what they see online, how they see it presented, and how others around them are responding. In a crisis, stakeholders aren't passive recipients of information waiting to be informed. They're active participants in shaping the narrative, often anxious, highly engaged, and frequently reactive.

The psychology of digital communication offers crucial insights for crisis response that traditional models often overlook. Unlike face-to-face interactions, online communication lacks key social cues such as tone of voice, body language, and facial expressions that help us interpret meaning and intent. This absence of context increases the risk of misunderstandings and can intensify emotional reactions.

Additionally, the speed and scale of digital platforms create a heightened sense of urgency, often overwhelming rational thought and prompting impulsive responses. The anonymity and physical distance of online interaction can also reduce empathy and increase hostility, making constructive dialogue more difficult. These dynamics will be explored further in a following chapter.

Dr. Sherry Turkle's research on digital communication reveals another critical insight: "Online, we often lose the capacity for the kind of self-reflection that leads to self-knowledge. We become reactive rather than reflective." This tendency towards reactivity is amplified during crisis situations, when emotions are already heightened and stakes feel particularly high.

Understanding these dynamics is essential for effective crisis communication in the digital age. It's not enough to craft clear, accurate messages, we must also consider how those messages will be interpreted and amplified in digital environments where context is limited and emotions run high. We must design our communications to work within these constraints rather than against them.

Layered on top of these digital dynamics is what I've learned through anxiety-informed care. Crisis doesn't happen in a vacuum, and it doesn't affect everyone equally. For many people, crisis triggers distress, dysregulation, and even trauma responses. If an organisation ignores this reality, it risks deepening harm and pushing people further away just when connection and reassurance are needed most.

This trauma-informed perspective recognises that crisis can reactivate past wounds and trigger survival responses that aren't always rational or proportionate to the current situation. Someone who experienced betrayal by a previous employer may react more strongly to corporate communications during a crisis. Someone who lived through a natural disaster may be more sensitive to emergency notifications. Someone who has experienced discrimination may be more sceptical of institutional promises, regardless of how well-intentioned they might be.

Dr. Judith Herman, a pioneering researcher in trauma psychology, explains that "traumatic events call into question basic human relationships. They breach the attachments of family, friendship, love, and community. They shatter the construction of the self that is formed and sustained in relation to others." When organisations communicate during crisis without considering these deeper psychological realities, they risk inadvertently triggering these trauma responses and making the situation worse.

This doesn't mean we should treat all stakeholders as traumatised, but it does mean we should communicate in ways that are sensitive to the possibility of trauma responses. This includes being clear and consistent in our messaging to reduce uncertainty, avoiding language that could be perceived as dismissive or blaming, providing multiple channels for people to get information and support, and acknowledging the emotional impact of the situation rather than focusing solely on operational details.

So what does this mean for how we communicate during crisis? It means we need to shift—away from outdated, reactive, message-control models, and towards a proactive, human-centred approach. One grounded in authenticity, transparency, and compassion. These are not soft, optional extras that we can add if time permits. They are critical tools for leading well in complexity, and for rebuilding trust in a time when trust in institutions is often in short supply.

The shift from message control to meaningful engagement requires a fundamental change in mindset. Instead of asking "How do we control the narrative?" we need to ask "How do we contribute constructively to the conversation that's already happening?" Instead of focusing solely on what we want to say, we must consider what people need to hear and how they're likely to interpret our words. Instead of prioritising speed above all else, we must balance urgency with thoughtfulness, recognising that a slightly delayed but well-considered response is often more effective than a rapid but tone-deaf one.

This approach recognises that crisis communication is not a monologue but a dialogue. It's not about broadcasting messages into the void but about building and maintaining relationships during difficult times. It's not about managing perceptions through clever messaging but about earning trust through consistent, authentic action over time.

Professor James Grunig, whose work on excellence in public relations has influenced practitioners worldwide, argues that "the best crisis communication is relationship communication." His research shows that organisations with strong pre-existing relationships with their stakeholders fare significantly better during crises, not because they're better at crafting messages, but because they've already established trust and credibility that carries them through difficult periods.

Crisis today is therefore not just a reputational risk to be managed, it’s a human event that affects real people in real ways. And leaders certainly need to regard it as such. It's not only about protecting your brand; it's about protecting the people: your employees, customers, communities, and partners. The way you show up in a crisis speaks volumes about your values as an organisation and has a lasting impact on wellbeing, loyalty, and organisational culture.

The human dimension of crisis extends beyond external stakeholders to include the internal team managing the response. Crisis is inherently stressful, and the people leading the response are often under enormous pressure from multiple directions. Their wellbeing matters not just for humanitarian reasons but for practical ones—stressed, overwhelmed leaders make poor decisions and communicate ineffectively.

Research by Dr. Amy Edmondson at Harvard Business School shows that psychological safety—the belief that one can speak up without risk of punishment or humiliation—is crucial for effective crisis response. Teams that feel psychologically safe are more likely to share critical information, admit mistakes, and propose innovative solutions.

Creating systems that support the crisis team’s emotional and psychological wellbeing is not a luxury but a necessity for effective crisis management. This includes ensuring adequate rest and rotation of responsibilities, providing access to emotional support and counselling services, maintaining clear role definitions to reduce confusion and conflict, and creating regular opportunities for the team to process the emotional impact of the crisis they're managing. When leaders are regulated and grounded, they communicate more effectively and make better decisions under pressure.

And here's a crucial truth that many crisis communication frameworks overlook: you won't always have the answers at the start. You can't always predict how things will unfold or what new information will emerge. But you can take responsibility early, commit the right resources, and explore every viable path forward with integrity and care. That's what creates the conditions for a meaningful and successful outcome, even when the situation is complex and uncertain.

This acceptance of uncertainty is perhaps the most challenging aspect of modern crisis communication. Traditional models assume that organisations should have answers, that leaders should project confidence and control, and that uncertainty is a sign of weakness or poor preparation. But in complex, rapidly evolving situations, pretending to have certainty when none exists actually erodes credibility and trust.

Instead, effective crisis communication in the 21st century requires managing with “confident uncertainty”, the ability to acknowledge what we don't know while demonstrating a clear commitment to finding answers and taking appropriate action. This approach builds trust by showing respect for stakeholders' intelligence and by setting realistic expectations about what can be known and when.

Dr. Brené Brown, whose research on vulnerability and leadership has transformed how we think about authentic communication, puts it this way: "Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind." Being honest about uncertainty, while also being clear about what you are doing to address it, is ultimately more respectful and more effective than offering false reassurances or premature conclusions.

A modern crisis can be defined as a rapidly unfolding situation, often amplified by digital media, that disrupts normal operations, threatens reputations, endangers public trust, or causes significant harm to people, organisations, or systems.

But this definition, while accurate, doesn't capture the full complexity of what organisations face today. Modern crises are characterised by several distinctive features that set them apart from their predecessors and require fundamentally different approaches to communication and management.

First, they are interconnected in ways that previous generations of crisis managers never had to consider. A cyber attack on one organisation can cascade through supply chains, affecting dozens of other companies within hours. A social media controversy can spread across industries and geographies, drawing in organisations that had no direct involvement in the original incident. A regulatory change in one jurisdiction can trigger compliance crises worldwide as organisations scramble to understand the implications for their operations.

This interconnectedness means that organisations must consider not just their direct stakeholders but the broader ecosystem in which they operate. A crisis response that focuses solely on immediate stakeholders while ignoring broader network effects is likely to be blindsided by unexpected consequences and secondary impacts.

Second, modern crises are persistent in ways that traditional crises were not. Unlike historical crises that had clear beginnings and endings, modern crises often evolve and resurface over extended periods. A data breach investigation may take months to complete, with new information emerging regularly that requires fresh communication. A product recall may trigger ongoing litigation that keeps the issue in the public eye for years. A workplace culture issue may require sustained effort over multiple years to address effectively.

This persistence requires organisations to think beyond immediate response to long-term relationship management. The goal is not just to survive the initial crisis but to emerge with relationships and reputation intact or even strengthened. This requires sustained commitment and consistent communication over time, not just during the acute phase of the crisis.

Modern crises are participatory in unprecedented ways. Stakeholders don't just observe crises from the sidelines, they actively shape them through their responses, sharing, and commentary. This participation can amplify positive responses as well as negative ones, creating opportunities for organisations that engage authentically and significant risks for those that don't.

The participatory nature of modern crisis means that traditional one-way communication models are not just ineffective, they can actually make situations worse by appearing tone-deaf or dismissive of stakeholder concerns. Effective crisis communication today requires genuine engagement and dialogue, not just message broadcasting.

Modern crises are deeply emotional in ways that purely rational communication approaches cannot address. They trigger strong feelings that may include anxiety, fear, anger, disappointment, betrayal, and grief. These emotions are not obstacles to overcome or side effects to manage, they are central realities that must be acknowledged and addressed directly.

Research by Dr. Antonio Damasio, a leading neuroscientist, shows that emotion and reason are not separate systems but deeply interconnected. His work reveals that people who have damage to the emotional centres of their brain actually make worse decisions, not better ones. This research has profound implications for crisis communication: addressing the emotional dimension of crisis is not just compassionate, it’s strategically essential.

In the context of communications, the real task is managing how this crisis is perceived and experienced by all stakeholders. That means communicating clearly and early with stakeholders and the public, being honest and consistent in messaging across all channels, engaging with digital narratives in real time rather than hoping they'll go away, and protecting reputation without compromising truth or trust.

But perception management in the modern context is far more complex than simply crafting the right message and pushing it out through appropriate channels. It requires understanding how different stakeholders process information, how digital platforms shape interpretation and amplification, and how emotions influence decision-making in ways that purely rational models don't account for.

It requires recognising that perception is not just about what we say but about what we do, not just about our words in the moment but about our actions over time, not just about our official communications but about every touchpoint stakeholders have with our organisation. In our hyperconnected world, everything communicates, and stakeholders form their perceptions based on the totality of their experience, not just our formal crisis communications.

The intent is not to manipulate perception through clever messaging or spin, but to ensure that perception aligns with reality, and to make sure that reality is something we can be proud of. This means that effective crisis communication begins long before the crisis hits, with the values you embed in your organisational culture, the relationships you build with stakeholders during good times, and the systems you create to support ethical decision-making and rapid response when challenges arise.

Professor Edward Bernays, often referred to as the father of public relations, wrote nearly a century ago that "the public relations counsel is first of all a student of human psychology." This insight is even more relevant today, when the psychological dimensions of crisis have become so central to effective response. Understanding how people think, feel, and behave during crisis is not just helpful, it’s crucial for anyone who wants to communicate effectively during challenging times.

Modern crises aren't just about what's happening in real time, they’re about how people experience and make sense of what's happening, how they share that experience with others, and how those shared experiences shape collective understanding and response.

In our fast-paced world, managing this experiential dimension has become as crucial as managing the operational facts of the situation. Leaders need to move beyond outdated reactive approaches that focus primarily on message control and embrace a human-centred, compassionate strategy that values authenticity, transparency, and emotional wellbeing.

By doing so, organisations don't just protect their reputation in the short term, they genuinely care for the people who matter most, building trust and resilience that will serve them well long after the immediate crisis has passed.

As we'll explore in the following chapters, this shift from reactive to proactive, from controlling to caring, from managing to serving, represents the fundamental transformation needed in crisis communication today. It's a transformation that creates the foundation for not just surviving crisis, but for using crisis as an opportunity to strengthen relationships, demonstrate values, and build the kind of trust that sustains organisations through whatever challenges the future may bring.

In every crisis lies not just disruption, but an opportunity to connect, to listen, and to lead with authenticity and compassion. The organisations that understand this, will be the ones that thrive.

Copyright Lulu Aspinall 2025