In crisis communications, the moments that have tested my abilities – and taught me – the most are not ones I can share in a pitch deck or put on my CV. These include, without sharing too many details, coordinating comms in the aftermath of a mass casualty shooting in the U.S.; ensuring a woman with deep government ties was held accountable in a multi-million-dollar fraud case; and helping a client avoid extradition to a country where they likely would have faced execution.
To protect the people whose lives or businesses were at risk, this is as much as I can say – because sometimes the real job in a crisis is working behind the scenes to preserve human dignity under pressure.
This is the kind of work that sharpens your instincts and strips away the performative side of PR. You don’t have time for branding exercises or stakeholder consensus meetings when your job is to prevent panic, stop disinformation, or keep people alive. You learn fast how to speak clearly and persuasively when others can’t.
You also learn that some of your best work will never be seen. No case studies. No panel appearances. You have to take your reward in the quiet knowledge that someone is safe, justice moved an inch forward, or a business lived to see another day.
To the next generation of crisis comms professionals: don’t measure your value only by the public wins. Some of the most meaningful work you’ll ever do will be confidential. The silence that follows a crisis averted can be more rewarding than any spotlight.