I blogged about public apologies and public figures' secrets a couple of weeks back. Gratifyingly it seemed to strike a chord. Since then, more scandals have emerged. Cardinal Keith O'Brien, the head of the Catholic Church in Scotland has had to step down from public life as past sexual misconducts with other priests came to light. Lord Rennard, the former LibDem's Chief Executive and senior activist stands accused of inappropriate behaviour and unwanted harassment of women in the past.
First and foremost, the hypocrisy is foolish. I'm still astounded at the number of public figures who have a Big Secret yet publicly vilify others for doing exactly the same thing. Cardinal O'Brien didn't choose to espouse the cause of poverty, education, social violence or domestic violence as his main platform during his tenure - all of which are so important and a safe million miles from his secret life. No, he made strong attacks of gay marriage and gay adoptions, all of which are now being played back to add to his humiliation. American TV evangelists seem particularly prone to financial and sex scandals - yet no-one can be more vocal in the hell-fire and damnation sermons they deliver to millions of viewers about the very actions they are conducting in private.
Of course, had I been a psychologist I would undoubtedly have worked out that all this may be a not-so-subtle method of cleansing the spirit and the soul. If I speak fervently and violently against the bad thing I'm doing (or have done in the past), I am carrying out my own form of public confession in which I play both the confessor and the sinner.
Then comes the public declarations of support. This is trickier. Picture the all too familiar scene. A politician/priest/footballer is accused of Something Bad, the media moves in, 'friends' express indignation at the media's impertinence and vouch for the accused's family values, impeccable behaviour etc, the PM/Archbishop/Football Manager/Chairman stands by his/her man, the accused resigns to avoid 'distracting from important government/corporate/club priorities', he is then found guilty after all and admits to it, everyone disappears into thin air leaving him to hang out to dry. I asked a senior Scottish establishment figure last week what he thought of supporting friends in public when a misdemeanour comes to light. He was adamant that people should always stand by their friends. But consider yourself having gone public to support a friend and defend an attack on his character, you'd be pretty miffed if your friend turns out to be guilty after all yet without the courtesy of giving you a head's up that you might look foolish for defending a lie.
So perhaps there ought to be the three-step rule in protecting and defending your personal public image.
First is of course, don't do anything wrong in the first place, just live a clean, honest life. You can't do this? Then go to second, if you have to do something wrong, get ready to get found out. This discovery could happen at any time so treat every non-discovery day as a beautiful, happy bonus because the chances are that someone somewhere already knows all about your misdemeanour and is simply waiting for the right time to pounce. An ex-wife, an opposing politician, a competitive, a disgruntled employee, a past lover...I'm reminded of one of Alfred Hitchcock's theory of suspense which is: tell the audience there is an unexploded bomb but don't tell them when or how it will be exploded. This is the life of suspense you should expect to be leading every day, if you have a Big Secret. Third, do not, I repeat do not, take to the airwaves/conference platform/media and attack the very thing you're doing in secret.
An afterthought. It would be a kindness to tell your boss (PM, Pope, Archbishop, Manager, Chairman) that you have indeed been doing what you're accused of doing. Don't let them go out on a limb to defend you when you know you'll get found out anyway. Your boss's defence may delay the day of judgement for a few hours but it will not protect you.
If on the other hand you are the PM, Pope, Archbishop, Chairman, there is only one rule of thumb. Get to the point, don't be ambiguous, don't cover it up. Either something has happened, or it hasn't. Either you know about it, or you don't. Either you think it's wrong, or you don't. There are no grey areas.
So what are the better examples of dealing with scandals? When David Laws resigned in 2010 after expenses irregularities, everything happened at speed - one single day to be exact. He saw the writing on the wall and came clean quickly, he received and acted on good advice. Paddy Ashdown, in 1992, came clean in a press conference choreographed perfectly by Des Wilson before the News of The World could break the story of his affair. John Major's affair with Edwina Currie was revealed in Currie's autobiography before anyone else forced their hand.
I end with Peter Jones's excellent piece this week Spectator Ancient and Modern in which he quotes Aeschylus: "he wanted not to seem, but to be, the best". Those wise words are never as relevant as they are today.
First and foremost, the hypocrisy is foolish. I'm still astounded at the number of public figures who have a Big Secret yet publicly vilify others for doing exactly the same thing. Cardinal O'Brien didn't choose to espouse the cause of poverty, education, social violence or domestic violence as his main platform during his tenure - all of which are so important and a safe million miles from his secret life. No, he made strong attacks of gay marriage and gay adoptions, all of which are now being played back to add to his humiliation. American TV evangelists seem particularly prone to financial and sex scandals - yet no-one can be more vocal in the hell-fire and damnation sermons they deliver to millions of viewers about the very actions they are conducting in private.
Of course, had I been a psychologist I would undoubtedly have worked out that all this may be a not-so-subtle method of cleansing the spirit and the soul. If I speak fervently and violently against the bad thing I'm doing (or have done in the past), I am carrying out my own form of public confession in which I play both the confessor and the sinner.
Then comes the public declarations of support. This is trickier. Picture the all too familiar scene. A politician/priest/footballer is accused of Something Bad, the media moves in, 'friends' express indignation at the media's impertinence and vouch for the accused's family values, impeccable behaviour etc, the PM/Archbishop/Football Manager/Chairman stands by his/her man, the accused resigns to avoid 'distracting from important government/corporate/club priorities', he is then found guilty after all and admits to it, everyone disappears into thin air leaving him to hang out to dry. I asked a senior Scottish establishment figure last week what he thought of supporting friends in public when a misdemeanour comes to light. He was adamant that people should always stand by their friends. But consider yourself having gone public to support a friend and defend an attack on his character, you'd be pretty miffed if your friend turns out to be guilty after all yet without the courtesy of giving you a head's up that you might look foolish for defending a lie.
So perhaps there ought to be the three-step rule in protecting and defending your personal public image.
First is of course, don't do anything wrong in the first place, just live a clean, honest life. You can't do this? Then go to second, if you have to do something wrong, get ready to get found out. This discovery could happen at any time so treat every non-discovery day as a beautiful, happy bonus because the chances are that someone somewhere already knows all about your misdemeanour and is simply waiting for the right time to pounce. An ex-wife, an opposing politician, a competitive, a disgruntled employee, a past lover...I'm reminded of one of Alfred Hitchcock's theory of suspense which is: tell the audience there is an unexploded bomb but don't tell them when or how it will be exploded. This is the life of suspense you should expect to be leading every day, if you have a Big Secret. Third, do not, I repeat do not, take to the airwaves/conference platform/media and attack the very thing you're doing in secret.
An afterthought. It would be a kindness to tell your boss (PM, Pope, Archbishop, Manager, Chairman) that you have indeed been doing what you're accused of doing. Don't let them go out on a limb to defend you when you know you'll get found out anyway. Your boss's defence may delay the day of judgement for a few hours but it will not protect you.
If on the other hand you are the PM, Pope, Archbishop, Chairman, there is only one rule of thumb. Get to the point, don't be ambiguous, don't cover it up. Either something has happened, or it hasn't. Either you know about it, or you don't. Either you think it's wrong, or you don't. There are no grey areas.
So what are the better examples of dealing with scandals? When David Laws resigned in 2010 after expenses irregularities, everything happened at speed - one single day to be exact. He saw the writing on the wall and came clean quickly, he received and acted on good advice. Paddy Ashdown, in 1992, came clean in a press conference choreographed perfectly by Des Wilson before the News of The World could break the story of his affair. John Major's affair with Edwina Currie was revealed in Currie's autobiography before anyone else forced their hand.
I end with Peter Jones's excellent piece this week Spectator Ancient and Modern in which he quotes Aeschylus: "he wanted not to seem, but to be, the best". Those wise words are never as relevant as they are today.
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