A few weeks back, when the whole controversy about Newfoundland and Labrador Premier Danny Williams’ decision to seek cardiac surgery in the U.S. first surfaced, I gave his office a Fumble for not coming clean right out of the gate with details on where he was going, what the nature of the procedure was, and why he went stateside for it in the first place. Regardless of the reasons, the cat-and-mouse act with the information was only going to keep the story rolling … and it did. Now that he has had the procedure and is recovering and giving some interviews, I have to call a second Fumble on Premier Williams himself. Not for saying “it’s my heart, it’s my choice,” or any of the other political aspects which swirl around this story, but rather for the fact that Williams has either been inaccurate or worse with the facts of the matter. Being inaccurate with the media – deliberately or otherwise – is at best an honest error or at worst scandalous, but in any case it’s something to be avoided at all costs. The true facts will always emerge in the end, and those proffering inaccuracies will suffer. Williams told NTV in a post-op interview that “the surgery I eventually got … was not offered to me in Canada.” This was quickly countered by prominent cardiologists across the country in both live quotes and released statements. Again, let me be clear: the communications play isn’t about where and how he got his surgery, it’s about the way it was positioned. By suggesting he could only get what he was after south of the border – a statement quickly proven untrue by leading health care voices – it became a Fumble.

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We seem to have more and more examples of the public apology to dissect here at TD&F, and the latest comes courtesy of Helena Guergis, federal minister of state for the status of women. She threw a hissy fit at the Charlottetown airport, ranting at security staff and one of her own aides after being made to remove her boots as part of the pre-flight screening process. As word of the incident reached the media (with help from Liberal MP Wayne Easter), Guergis wisely issued a full and unequivocal apology for her behaviour – “an unusually abject mea culpa,” as described by the Toronto Star. Taking full lumps for her outburst was the right thing to do, and it was also a good move to ensure that it was done within the same news cycle, ensuring that the apology was part of the news of the outburst itself. The only thing worse than having to apologize for a public meltdown is having to do it seemingly in response to a round of bad press – something Guergis has avoided.

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Many have already said this, but if you haven’t been deeply moved by the story of Joannie Rochette, you’d better check for a pulse. The Montreal figure skater has captured the hearts of the nation with her medal-winning display of incredible poise, focus and determination amid unimaginable grief following the sudden death of her mother in Vancouver earlier this week. Steeling herself, Rochette turned in two career-best performances and landed on the podium with Canada’s first figure skating (bronze) medal since Elizabeth Manley’s surprise star turn in Calgary back in 1988. Afterward, she spoke to reporters, demonstrating grace equal to that which she showed on the ice. “I feel proud, and the result didn’t matter, but I’m happy to be on the podium,” she said. “That was my goal coming here. It’s been a lifetime project with my mom, and we achieved that.” Other quotes: “She was my biggest fan, my best friend. She was with me every step of the way.” Lovely, and endearing, but also this: “And even though she’s not here anymore, and I’m not afraid to say it, sometimes she was a pain in the ass,” Rochette said, as CNN noted, “laughing, probably for the first time in days.” Bravery, grace under pressure, and still a sense of humour. The medal may be bronze, but Joannie’s pure gold..

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Elite athletes often set themselves impossible objectives in order to attain their goals. They aim high, even if that aim is unrealistic, in order to win. Such self-delusion can be an effective form of self-motivation, but it does not make much of a communications strategy. Witness the oxymoron that is Own the Podium, the Canadian Olympic Committee program that has garnered its share of criticism for not delivering on its objective – namely, that Canada would win more medals than any other country at the Vancouver Games. As the Olympics march toward Closing Ceremonies, it’s pretty clear that ain’t gonna happen. And now the program, which helps Canadian athletes get better training and coaching, is in the vertiginous spiral of a communications crisis. The media are running with stories that government and corporate donors might not fund the $100-million initiative post-Olympics. Armchair Olympians are swiping that the whole idea is somehow unsportsmanlike and unpatriotic. And worst of all, the medal-race-winning Americans are making fun of us, joking that they are renting the podium during the Olympics but we Canadians can have it back when they’re done. (Oooo, I hope we beat them in hockey….) Given all that, Chris Rudge, chief executive of the COC, has done some hard back-pedaling, admitting to reporters that Own the Podium would not attain its goal and conceding that maybe somebody should have come up with a better name. “We could’ve maybe more euphemistically come up with a name that described helping out athletes be the best they could be,” he said. But the most damaging thing about Own the Podium isn’t the moniker; it’s that its organizers overpromised, publicly. Maybe there is merit internally in setting a super-ambitious objective, but for the love of Pete don’t communicate it – unless you’re double darned sure you have a good message around not delivering. Before setting the objective six years ago to win the medal count, did anyone ask, "What do we say if we don’t make it?" It’s not as if no one warned them. Back in 2004 when the COC declared the win-in-2010 ambition, a qualified observer had this to say about it: “You need to think long and hard about statements you’re making on how you’re going to do. You need to have everything perfect just to make the podium, let alone win the race, because that’s what the Olympics is. It makes me shake my head when I hear those predictions because I know what it takes.” The observer? Clara Hughes, who just won speed-skating bronze for Canada in Vancouver. Smart lady – maybe she should go into PR now that she’s retiring from competition. This whole thing is a Fumble for the COC.

What’s your call?

Sometimes, winning isn't the point. Tiger Woods, for instance, must have known that he wouldn't be getting any popularity awards after his televised statement apologizing for his misdeeds. But he had to do it anyway. In the court of public opinion, redemption begins with confession. And that goes as much for the brands one represents as it does for broken marriages. In that sense, Toyota president and CEO Akio Toyoda's Wednesday apology before a U.S. congressional hearing into the recall scandal was both necessary and effective. In fact, as early messaging in a crisis in which there is no question over who's to blame, Toyoda's 10-minute speech was a master class. First, he began by stating core corporate principles (commitment to safety, quality and sales last). Second, he explained how the company had strayed from that philosophy, putting sales volume over safety and quality. The result: defects in manufacturing. Here, Toyoda apologized, and offered his condolences to those who had been injured or died as a result of the defects. Third, he laid out plainly what he was going to do "to ensure that such a tragedy never happens again" – a few clear steps (whose effectiveness would be measurable only over the long term, but no matter) that would return the company to its core philosophy. And finally, he took personal responsibility. He reminded the committee members that his name is on every car (Toyoda is the grandson of the company's founder). "For me, when the cars are damaged, it is as though I am as well," he said. Of course, after he finished, the congressmen laid into him with invective, but that had to be expected. Did Toyoda restore his company's tarnished image? Of course not. But it was a solid start to what will be a long and difficult process.

What’s your call?

Joe Chidley served as the editor of Canadian Business Magazine for over nine years. He is now the senior vice-president of corporate and public affairs at Veritas.

In the world of business, surprises are infrequently welcome. Taking steps to avoid any anxiety inducing surprises a day before it would become public, Palm CEO Jon Rubinstein sent a letter to employees letting them now that revenues for this fiscal year were well below forecasts. Throughout the end of 2008 and 2009 we’ve seen many attempts at internal communications and employee engagement aimed at cushioning tough news, striving to retain employees and to keep morale high in the workplace. Often overlooked, quality employee communications that are inspirational rather than simply informational is a craft with a measureable benefit in the workplace. If you read Rubinstein’s letter to employees, it is an attempt to diffuse surprise by providing information with one caveat. He attempts to end the letter with a spark of energy and enthusiasm to overcome the preceding bad news. His last phrase in the letter is “Go team!!!”. It comes terribly out of place after a letter of bad news and has been teased around the internet broadly in the aftermath. Just do a quick search on twitter for examples. Engagement can’t be achieved through the use of exclamation points or cliché motivation statements. It needs to be real and built around the realities in your work force. This is an unfortunate Fumble for Jon Rubinstein and Palm at a difficult time for their business.

What's your call?

Sean McDonald is an expert in social media marketing. He is an Account Manager in Veritas’s social media division com.motion.