I recently reread the novel Gone Girl for a book report in my crisis comm class. Unusual sentence, yes, but this novel is rich with crisis communication and public relations mishaps, and what better way to learn than from others’ mistakes? Now that I’ve taken a few courses in PR, I read it through an entirely new lens.
For those who have not read or watched Gone Girl, halt! Stop reading! Close this tab! I’m about to drop some spoilers, and you should definitely read the book instead, especially if you’re into freaky, all-consuming mysteries that mess with your head in the best of ways.
One last time: spoilers ahead! You were warned.
In this novel, Amy Elliott Dunne disappears and frames her cheating husband, Nick, for her murder. Naturally, the media picks up on it instantly.
Even as you read Nick’s seemingly earnest point of view, it’s easy to doubt his narrative credibility. His perspective is interspersed with incriminating diary entries from his wife and many, many other clues pointing to his guilt. But what isn’t revealed until halfway through the novel—with the bombshell line, “I’m so much happier now that I’m dead”—is that Amy engineered the situation, planting those clues and fake diary entries to damn him in the most precise way. Every minute detail is planned out perfectly.
Okay, enough raving about the brilliant, horrifying plot-twistiness (I am MAKING that a word) of this read. Onto the crisis PR lessons:
1. On camera, the right facial expressions and body language are paramount.
In his first press conference, right after Amy’s disappearance, Nick shatters his credibility by appearing stiff and smiling at the end like a moron. He regrets this immediately, knowing that it will make him appear at best suspicious and at worst sociopathic. Later, his lawyer’s wife preps him for a TV interview. She trains him to relax and act natural by throwing jelly beans at his face every time he tenses up, leading to better results.
2. You must control the public narrative before others swoop in and do it for you.
After the initial disaster of a press conference, Nick takes too long to tell his side of the story. As a result, women who hardly know him go to the press and skewer him on TV. It isn’t until he releases his own interviews that he’s able to gain some control of the narrative. And even then, he isn’t fast enough; his mistress reveals herself on live TV before he has time to come clean to the public about her.
3. When in crisis mode, don’t trust just anyone; beware those with bad intentions.
An organization in crisis is vulnerable; it’s all too easy for others to take advantage. This applies to individuals in crisis, too. Early on, Nick lets a woman who is interested in him take a selfie of them. Later, he is cold to her in an attempt to distance himself, so she slanders him to the press. Further, Nick’s runaway wife hangs out with a couple of people at a motel who, ultimately, end up robbing her. No one in this book who isn’t paid to be trusted, aside from Nick’s twin sister, can be trusted.
4. Small words make a big difference.
Nick’s lawyer reminds him time and time again not to refer to his wife in the past tense. This slight change in language has a major impact, as it gives the impression that he either knows she’s dead or has lost all hope that she’s alive—presumably because he killed her. Fortunately, Nick takes his lawyer’s advice.
5. Ongoing crises require ongoing communication.
Nick does an impromptu interview with a reporter at a bar that, miraculously, portrays him in a positive light. For a day, public opinion is in his favor. But very soon after, right before his TV interview, his mistress speaks out, and the tide immediately turns against him. It is only after he does the interview that he’s able to rectify the situation temporarily, but without ongoing communication, it descends into crisis again.
6. Spokespeople must be trained in advance to speak with journalists.
Technically, Nick is his own spokesperson and his own client, but the help has in preparing for the second interview really pays off. In addition to the jelly beans, his lawyer’s wife also grills him and corrects his answers so he knows what not to say on TV. She encourages him to stick to his talk tracks—one of the cardinal rules of crisis comm.
7. The truth, especially client misbehavior, always comes out.
As I mentioned earlier (see lesson 2) Nick’s mistress goes to the press shortly after he breaks up with her. A tactic that’s commonly used in PR to get ahead of negative narratives is to leak unfavorable truths intentionally and seize control of the narrative. While Nick attempted this, he didn’t succeed, and the truth got out before he could release it himself.
Gone Girl is generally not considered classic lit, nor is it considered a PR textbook. But I argue that it can serve as both! It is an incredibly compelling read, not to mention overflowing with PR and crisis comm lessons. I hardly even scratched the surface.
Diana Pressey is a senior advertising/public relations major at UNC-Chapel Hill. She’s also a content marketing intern at InHerSight and campaigns team lead at the 1893 Brand Studio. In her free time, she enjoys reading and writing, dancing badly at concerts, belly laughing, and hanging out with other people’s pets. Click here to learn more about her, here to read previous blog posts, and here to get in touch.