The second issue of The Brewery, the intellectual journal published by freud communications, edited by Ed Amory, is even more interesting than the debut issue which was quietly launched at Davos last year.
Like Upton Cressett, The Brewery is set in the grounds of a historic Elizabethan house. But that is very much where any similarities end with the two houses (other than we both like to collect 16th century portraits). Upton Cressett for the visitor is all about taking a ‘step back in time’. We like to wallow in history and conservation aspic. We certainly don’t have a futuristic, high-tech, Bond-like Crisis Management bunker in our grounds. We struggle to get a mobile signal – let alone a live feed to Sky News or Newsnight London studios.
We also only charge £6.95 for entry – I haven’t a clue what freud charge for an all day visit to the Brewery bunker (I think you can stay the night) but it won’t be cheap and ‘senior’ discounts won’t be offered for anybody over 65.
With The Brewery’s latest contributors ranging from former Blair chief of staff Jonathan Powell (and second under gardener at the British Embassy in Washington) and tabloid paparazzo Max Cisotti, The Brewery gives a whole new meaning to what Tina Brown liked to call the ‘high-low mix’ that is essential to any successful media publication.
In his Introduction to issue number two, Matthew Freud relates an anecdote about an encounter he introduced between Arthur Sulzberger Jr, publisher of the New York Times, and BP’s former CEO Tony Hayward – upon whom the NYT had been heaping opprobrium on Hayward for failing to clear up BP’s Gulf oil mess. The punch line was that Sulzberger told Hayward that his media vilification ‘wasn’t your fault, it was just your turn’.
Freud’s own column deals with media rough justice; and how to handle it. ‘You or your company’s reputation will recover rapidly if you are seen to be contrite and accepting that the rough is just as extreme as
the smooth for the privileged. Protestations of your faultlessness or the greater guilt of others will only prolong the agony’.
Take the ‘Plebgate’ downfall of Andrew Mitchell, the former Tory chief whip, which contains an important cautionary lesson not only for politicians but also for any Ultra High Net Worth or CEO who find themselves erring in some all too human way and suddenly in theunwanted glare of tabloid media headlights. Whether Mitchell will be politically rehabilitated before too long remains to be seen following the expose of the poor way he was treated by Number Ten, and the apparent ineptitude of the Cabinet Secretary in not alerting Cameron to the fact that the Chief Whip was stitched up by the Met.
But one thing is certain about Plebgate. Mr Mitchell did not handle the crisis well, and was an amateur when it came to defending himself. The Brewery could have saved the day.
Crisis Management is an increasingly important part not only of corporate and political life but also of the UHNW universe as the media – and politicians for that matter – continue to treat the rich with much the same level of hatred and contempt as French 18th century revolutionaries reserved for the powdered wig aristocrats of the ancien regime.
Yet so few global CEOs, UHNWs – or politicians for that matter –bother with any basic training for their initiation into the eye of a media firestorm. Part of the problem is sheer arrogance of many coddled
corporate ladder climbing types who have had little contact with the realpolitik of life and assume that if they have reached (often through failing upwards) the top they must have superb natural ‘communication’ skills.
But look at the live train crash of former BBC Director-General George Entwistle suicidal 7am interview on Radio Four where he sounded like he had never been into a broadcasting studio in his life (he has actually worked for the BBC for 22 years and edited Newsnight); or the equally dismal I’m-in-charge-now interview with his ‘acting’ successor Tim Davie, whose eyes wandered away from the camera and again looked as if he had never done a ‘down the camera’ interview in his life (he had actually been in charge of BBC Communications).
Contrast these dismal presentation efforts with the bullish TV performance of Conrad Black when interviewed by a combative Adam Boulton on SKY, where Black – who is no stranger to media pugilism – swotted away Boulton’s attack dog questions by asking to be reminded of Boulton’s name. Hilarious but oh-so-effective.
The rise in the need for crisis management expert as an essential part of any UHNW inner entourage is one reason why Spears has recently taken on Ed Amory – a former senior Tory Central Office advisor turned
journalist (and Spears columnist) who is now Editor of The Brewery, amongst other significant roles at freud. I do not know if Andrew Mitchell has Ed’s number on speed-dial but it is a shame he didn’t immediately call Matthew Freud’s crisis management arm at freud the moment he found himself splashed over the papers.
The latest issue of The Brewery also includes a spread of glossy photographs of the hi-tech n’ leather facilities of The Brewery (which include mock TV studios, crisis management board room, media room, and other rooms with more screens than a hedge fund trading floor).
Mitchell may wish that he had booked himself into Freud’s emergency crisis management bunker – rather than gone into Bin Laden-style hiding. For there is a very simple elementary rule that Ed could have explained to Mitchell as they miked him up in their Oxfordshire TV studio bunker before going live to Adam Boulton
to explain exactly what he really did say on that fateful encounter with the Downing Street gate policeman on his bike.
The first rule of crisis management when accused of saying something career killing is to immediately think of another word that sounds similar. Mitchell – who by all accounts is a decent and hard working
man – could have probably avoided his tragic plight, exiled from high office for saying a single verboten word if only he had said the following on camera from the The Brewery studio: ‘There has been a
misunderstanding and I am here to set the record straight for you Adam. What I actually said was ‘You **** plod –I thought you are meant to be helping us’. Career saved.
Now that it turns out that Mitchell probably never said the ‘P’ word (although he is known for saying “Pip Pip”) in the first place, and was turned over by the police, I don’t know what freud’s strategists would have suggested Mitchell say. But going to ground and saying nothing is invariably a fatal self-inflicted wound in today’s media fever age where rough justice and cool repentence is all part of choosing a public life.