The Most Important Crisis Communication Lesson I Didn't Learn in a Classroom

One of the most valuable lessons I've learned about communication didn't come from a textbook. It came from watching a colleague unexpectedly become part of a national conversation.

Years ago, I worked in local television for a Sinclair Broadcast Group station. Most people don't recognize the Sinclair name, but they almost certainly know one of the local ABC, CBS, FOX, or NBC affiliates the company owns. It's something my AI assistant and I have debated more than once—I instinctively identify myself by the station because that's what viewers knew.

Anyways, one Sunday evening, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver aired a segment criticizing local news stations across the country for reading nearly identical scripts. John Oliver has built a reputation for pairing investigative journalism with memorable visuals.

One of those visuals included my morning anchor reading part of that script.

Almost overnight, she became the target of criticism from people who had never met her. Friends, neighbors, and strangers online weren't separating the corporate script from the person reading it. To them, they were one and the same.

That moment changed how I think about communication. It reminded me that every employee can become the face of an organization—whether they signed up for that role or not.

Here's the part of the story most people never heard. The original goal of that script was to communicate transparency with viewers. Corporate writers produced a legally approved statement that stations across the country were expected to air. Our News Director wanted to localize the wording so it sounded more authentic to our audience, but that request was denied. Instead, one or two members of our news team delivered the statement exactly as written.

The montage erased all of that context in a matter of seconds.

The next morning, the phone calls started. It took several days for corporate to fully grasp how quickly the story had spread. Eventually, the guidance was simple: route all media inquiries to the corporate PR office in Maryland.

What never came was guidance for the people everyone actually recognized. Our on-air talent were left answering questions from neighbors, explaining the situation during local radio interviews, and hoping the story would fade. I wasn't an anchor, but I still stopped wearing my station jacket in public for weeks.

Silence is a response, too. As communicators, we spend a lot of time preparing statements for customers, investors, and the media but we don't always prepare the people inside the organization.

Who answers the questions when friends ask, "What's going on at your company?"

Who helps employees navigate social media when the organization is suddenly trending?

Who reminds them they aren't facing those conversations alone?

That experience has stayed with me for years. It's one of the reasons I now teach that crisis communication begins long before the crisis itself.

One recent campaign I have admired came from Taco Bell during the nationwide romaine lettuce recalls. Before customers could begin asking questions, the company proactively communicated that it had already switched to a different lettuce supplier and its restaurants weren't affected. Instead of waiting for concern to grow, they addressed it immediately.

I often wish we'd done something similar.

Not because it would have changed everyone's opinion, but because it would have shown employees that leadership understood what they were about to face—and had their backs before they walked into work the next morning.

A company's reputation doesn't live only in its press releases. It lives in conversations around dinner tables, at youth sporting events, in grocery store checkout lines, and online.

The morning anchor from that story eventually left journalism. So have many colleagues I've admired over the years. Whether by choice or circumstance, it's a reminder that organizations are remembered not only for how they protect their brands, but for how they support the people behind them.

We spend a lot of time protecting brands. We should spend just as much time preparing the people who carry them.

One script. Multiple markets. Millions of viewers.