Four crises running in the news demonstrate the conflicts that can arise when the trigger is personal but the impact is on the business. Steve Jobs is taking a back seat at Apple because of his ill-health; Alan Johnson has resigned as shadow chancellor of the exchequer for personal reasons; Andy Coulson has at last resigned as the prime minister’s chief spokesperson; and David Cameron, whose disabled son Ivan died last year, has become embroiled in a local case of a mother who needs more help to look after her profoundly disabled child. Each of these raises different issues – and has different impacts – but the crisis is the same; it’s personal.

Can Apple remain rosy?

Any business that relies heavily on its chief executive, or any one individual, for its reputation is in a extremely dangerous position. As its business innovator, and charismatic spokesperson, Steve Jobs is inextricably tied to the Apple logo just as Richard Branson is synonymous with Virgin. When Jobs or Branson become the story, their brand and its reputation are bound to be implicated – for better or worse.

In the case of Jobs, with long-standing serious health problems, Apple has been lucky that the effect of his absences has been small and relatively short-lived dips in it share price. But what might happen if he can’t come back to the job? While Apple has said that its product line is secure for the next two to three years, what will happen after that? Will it cease to be as innovative – simply churning out the same products while others make advances?  Will it lose cachet – with Apple products no longer the must-haves people queue for even in countries not used to queueing? Will it become just another technology company, no longer ahead of the pack?

Every business needs to have an exit strategy. For small businesses, that might be to build a business that is strong enough to sell when the owner wants to retire and at a price that protects, or enhances, the owner’s lifestyle. For serial entrepreneurs, it might be to create a business ripe for takeover after a few years, leaving its owner free and well-funded enough to start up another venture to sell. For Apple, the need is for shareholders to continue to provide the cash it needs to innovate and grow so it can at least retain its market share – and for fans like me to continue to want to buy its new products. To do this it must have plans for how Steve Jobs will be replaced whenever he leaves, and it could be sooner than anyone wants.

The issue, for the moment, is whether Apple should have said what those plans are – to reassure investors. The rule book says yes – and I would counsel any business to follow best practice. But Apple has never played by the rules and, for the most part, investors and fans indulge it in its above-it-all approach. It is taking a gamble – but, provided it has a big announcement up its sleeve for when Steve Jobs disappears for good, saying nothing now could well pay off. Just don’t risk it yourself – unless your business is an international phenomenon in a class of its own.

Alan Johnson leaves in mist

Fortunately for Alan Johnson, the story of his resignation very quickly became the story of a potential clash, or rivalry, between Ed Balls and Ed Miliband. But, between his leaving and the political hacks rising, there was a gap long enough for the media to want to fill it.

By not explaining the reason for his resignation, Johnson has given the story longer legs. In the absence of authoritative information from him when he resigned, the media has dug around and found plenty to fill its empty pages (apparently an affair between his wife and his protection officer). And the pages might not read as Mr Johnson wishes.

He will, at some point, have to make a statement – whether to correct, clarify or confirm the speculation. He should have taken control of the story and told it like it is, getting it over and done with at the point of his resignation (not unreasonably, simultaneously asking the press to respect his and his wife’s privacy while they sort things out). Instead he is now on the back foot (and very lucky that Balls and Miliband are providing a distraction).

Andy Coulson exits under a cloud

“… when the spokesman needs a spokesman, it’s time to move on.” At last, some common sense from the supposedly media savvy Andy Coulson who has been under attack almost from the start of his sojourn at 10 Downing Street. Whether he did know about phone-hacking at the News of the World when he was its editor is not for me to say – though if he didn’t know, surely he wasn’t on the pulse of what was going on at his own paper. And, if he did know …

Regardless, this issue is about when to resign if you are under personal attack: almost always, it should be immediately and without equivocation – because it is almost impossible to carry on as normal with the media sniffing away, determined to uncover something. If it turns out you did nothing wrong, you can go back with your head held high and new respect from others. But while there is any doubt in the public’s mind – and especially if the media is gunning for you – going fast is the thing to do.

It is perfectly honourable to say something like “I have done nothing wrong but, while there is an investigation, I cannot give my full attention to the job so I am stepping down for the time being”. The truthful will be reinstated with added value; the untruthful will get what they deserve. The real sin is to hang on like grim … Andy Coulson.

David Cameron accused of being too close to the subject

Today’s PR Week carries a story, driven by a former colleague of mine, about David Cameron’s fitness to see an issue objectively. Cameron has been accused of being too close to a subject and getting it wrong.

During the general election campaign he met Riven Vincent, mother of a severely disabled child, after an exchange on Mumsnet. Very recently, Vincent posted a comment on Mumsnet saying that she was thinking of putting her daughter into care as she was finding it so hard to cope with so little respite care. The brouhaha that followed centred on the government’s cuts – though there has been no reduction in the level of support Vincent has received and nor is there any threat of a reduction. Cameron has written to Vincent. My former colleague thinks he should have resisted.

Cameron’s damned if he does and damned if doesn’t. On balance, he did the right thing – he’s spoken often about his personal experiences with his son Ivan and will always be associated with issues affecting families with profoundly disabled children. If he had said nothing he’d have been accused of callousness; criticism of his policies would have escalated and he’d have lost personal credibility. More importantly, he would not have been true to himself if he had failed to respond this time – and would have been wide open to personal and professional criticism.

Being authentic is essential – though I realise not everyone in the communications industry follows this golden rule.  Yes, Cameron needs to work out a way of dealing with similar cases so he can manage the situation if it arises again which it is bound to do given that it is so emotive, but he is undeniably personally associated with the issue and cannot duck it for political expediency.

Silence is never acceptable in a crisis. It implies there is something to hide – and that implication can only damage a reputation. Unless you are Apple.

As the Gordon-Ramsay-sacks-his-father-in-law story continues at a racing boil, I find myself descending into deepening despair.

Since Gordon published his impetuously-written letter to his mother-in-law, Greta Hutcheson, stories have emerged claiming that he also sacked his wife’s brother (Adam Hutcheson) and nephew (Christopher Hutcheson); that his father-in-law (Chris Hutcheson) has threatened to take Ramsay to an industrial tribunal for unfair dismissal; and that father-in-law Chris has snatched Petrus from the Ramsay empire.

And, inevitably, we’ve been reminded of Gordon’s past demeanours, not only by a default jogging of our memories as is typical in a crisis.

And what has Gordon said to bring an end to this farcical family feud? Nothing, given that the statement “A spokesman for Ramsay declined to comment.” doesn’t add up to a row of cooked-to-perfection beans.

Why do people think that silence is the way to deal with a crisis?

If they see it as “dignified”, they forget that journalists need words and if you don’t provide them, someone else will – with no thought for your dignity.

If they think it will stop the story from racing away, they forget that silence allows the media to speculate, and speculate they will – giving legs not only to this story but also to those from the past.

If they think it will reduce legal or insurance risks, they forget that silence affects their reputation for the long-term – the cost of which is far greater than that of short-term compensation bills.

When people say the right things in a crisis, it builds confidence, trust and support. And that will almost certainly mean their businesses will emerge with their reputations enhanced.

The trouble with Gordon is that he seems to crave attention. If he needs to make headlines, perhaps it doesn’t matter what those headlines are as long as they keep him in the spotlight. Perhaps he doesn’t mind if his restaurant business (or anything else – his marriage?) goes bust as he’ll be in the news again.

When a business is run by a talented (and chef Ramsay is undoubtedly talented) maverick, predicting the crises that might arise is virtually impossible. But, even if his crisis management plan is full of holes, it doesn’t mean silence is the only option. If he isn’t up to speaking direct to the media (he might be in emotional turmoil, struggling to keep himself and his family together), surely someone in his extensive coterie could muster something better than the unforgivable “no comment”?

Being able to draw together a few, short, circumspect words is often all that is needed to turn a crisis round. And, being Gordon, he might even get away with using his favourite f-word – as in “I’m sorry, I really f****d up”.

Today’s tragedy in Russia is unprecedented. Three things strike me. First, did the Polish government anticipate that such a crisis might occur, and prepare what to do and what to say in its aftermath? Secondly, how hard it must be for the families of ordinary passengers who were killed in the crash (in this case, the crew) when so much publicity and talk is about the deaths of government and military leaders. Thirdly, the situation is instantly complicated when there are rivalries or tensions between those involved: Poland and Russia.

Russia’s Putin appeared very swiftly, the impact of the tragedy etched on his face, taking control of the investigation. Good move. Meanwhile, the Russian flight control centre was swift to condemn the crew, by which they mean the pilots, for allegedly ignoring advice to divert and land elsewhere – presumably to place the blame firmly on Poland. Not a good move.

We in the UK must, I hope, have a crisis management plan in the event of major politicians and leaders being killed at the same time. There are several occasions a year when they are gathered together – or, at least, when significant groups of them are together. And, as most of them will be significant events – the state opening of parliament, the Mansion House speech, visits from foreign heads of state, royal weddings and funerals - security will be intense and massive, reducing the risk of a catastrophe. I hope there are rules about how many of them fly together, to minimise those risks – as with the monarch who never flies in the same plane as the heir to the throne, as with the US president and vice-president who are not allowed to fly together, and as with corporates where, typically, no more than two key leaders travel together precisely to ensure that the business can be run if those leaders were to be involved or killed in an accident.

I hope whatever plan we have takes into account the need to stress that the lives of ordinary people affected by any incident matter just as much – and to keep emphasising the point. The effect on and the grief of their family and friends must be recognised.

As for allegations about the pilots ignoring instructions, it is unusual for any facts about a crash to be known so soon afterwards. Typically, the black box needs to be analysed before facts emerge. If the comments are an attempt to shift blame … tut, tut, tut. And how might it make the pilots’ family and friends feel, perhaps unnecessarily? What might it do to the relationship between Russia and Poland if the black box reveals otherwise? And how will that affect Russia’s standing in the world? It’s far too early to assume that anything is fact.