Working in crisis PR: The unseen emotional weight

I get emailed on average about 10 to 15 times per week by people asking how they can break into crisis PR or whether I’m hiring. Working in crisis PR is not a typical career path, especially as an independent. In the UK, crisis management is typically handled by larger traditional PR firms, not individuals.

It often surprises people when they learn about the nature of my work, the reaction is usually the same. Some version of, "Your job must be so interesting, I’d love to hear more," quickly followed by, "You must have some crazy stories, who have you worked with?"

It is always a bit awkward when I have to laugh and say, "Haha, yeah... definitely cannot say that." It is something I have had to get used to, although I still feel like a bit of a knobhead having to say no. But there we are.

I work independently because, while traditional PR firms are often excellent at what they do, they are not always designed for the realities of how cancellation happens today. Social media fallout, Google search damage, and the speed at which misinformation spreads now require much more careful, strategic handling than simply pushing out a press statement and hoping for the best. Of course, traditional techniques still have their place. But being pressured to take that route when you know it will not genuinely protect the client can feel frustrating. Working independently also means I can take on the cases I believe in. PR firms, understandably, are often cautious about controversial figures, whereas I tend to find those cases the most complex and interesting to work on.

The reality behind the scenes

The reality, though, is much quieter and far less dramatic than people imagine. There are no sirens, no emergency meetings in glass boardrooms. The truth is, when a crisis happens, I am usually at the client’s home, or sometimes they are at mine. If for any reason they do not want someone in their home at that moment, we might meet at a private members' club instead. More often though, especially as most of my clients are based in the US, it happens over a Zoom call.

Most of the time, they are upset, anxious, and trying to tell me their version of events. My role in those moments is twofold. I am there to listen, to offer calmness and empathy. At the same time, I have to be mentally tracking everything, spotting inconsistencies, building timelines, identifying points that can be strengthened or verified later with evidence. It requires being fully present emotionally while also remaining sharply analytical. Both sides matter. One without the other and you risk missing something important.

Crisis PR work often means stepping into the worst moments of someone's life. I have worked with people facing public breakups, divorces, reputational attacks from ex-partners threatening to leak private messages, and even grieving families facing unexpected media scrutiny. It is not just individuals either. I have worked with businesses preparing to announce mass redundancies, where over five hundred people were about to lose their jobs and the internal and external communications had to be handled with extreme care. Part of my role is writing and shaping those communications, both for the public and for the staff themselves. It is a strange and heavy feeling, knowing that what you are writing will directly impact people’s lives. Even though the decision itself has nothing to do with me, there is always a weight of guilt when putting those messages together. You are shaping the words that will deliver life-changing news to hundreds of people, and there is no way to make that feel easy.

The weight of it

There are days when the emotional weight is real. There have been times I have got home at four or five o'clock in the evening after an especially heavy conversation, collapsed on the sofa and slept for two hours without meaning to. Not because I am tired of the work itself, but because absorbing other people's panic, fear and sadness can be quietly overwhelming.

I have had clients hint at or directly say they feel suicidal if their situation is not fixed. They have hired me to help fix it, and even though I know logically I cannot carry responsibility for someone's life, it is difficult not to feel the weight of it. Psychologically, humans are wired for emotional contagion. We naturally absorb the distress of those around us, especially in heightened situations where emotions like fear, shame and panic are involved. Even with strong emotional discipline, empathy does not switch itself off. You can understand it rationally and still feel the pressure quietly settle on you.

I am quite emotionally strong as a person, and I think you have to be to do this kind of work. You spend most days listening to people at their lowest. Like anyone else, I have my own bad days too. Sometimes I have been on a call, holding everything together for someone else, while quietly managing my own life falling apart.

I remember two days after my mum passed away, I had a client call me. I was due to speak to the funeral directors later that afternoon, which I was anxious about. I had no idea what I was doing and knew I would have to answer questions about moving the body and sorting everything out. My head was completely overwhelmed and if I am honest, I wanted to keep working to distract myself from everything.

The client was in tears because she had been papped that day, and people were mocking her outfit online. It was not anything extreme, just some petty comments and a few mean headlines, but she was genuinely devastated.

It was one of the first moments where I noticed how important emotional discipline is in this work. I was going through a genuinely difficult time personally, and what I was hearing from the client felt, in that moment, incredibly small by comparison. But it reminded me of something that is often overlooked. Stress is subjective. Psychologically, it does not scale according to logic, it is felt according to perception. What feels minor to one person can feel catastrophic to another depending on their emotional state, resilience, and life experience.

There is always someone having a better day than you, and someone having a worse one. If you allow yourself to weigh and measure other people’s struggles against your own, you will not survive long in this type of work. You have to be able to listen to people without judgement, even when you are quietly carrying far heavier things yourself. Of course, this client had no idea what was happening in my own life, and nor should they have done. That is not why people hire you.

What happens internally when a crisis hits

When someone reaches out to me, it is rarely because of one simple thing. Sometimes they have made a genuine mistake and are being cancelled for it. Other times, it is false accusations, misunderstandings, or pure public frustration looking for a new target.

It is horrible having your close family members, the ones you trust most, suddenly messaging you asking, "Is this true?" Even when they mean well, it adds another layer of stress and sadness. But imagine the anger that comes with distant relatives you barely remember suddenly reaching out, demanding information, or worse, selling their own version of events to the press.

It does not stop there. Old school friends you have not spoken to in decades sometimes come forward offering their own versions of events to anyone willing to listen. They will dig out an old photo of you both standing in the same frame at a party years ago, and some red-top tabloid will treat it like proof that they know you well enough to tell your life story.

You will find out your friends have created new private WhatsApp groups without you, gossiping about what is happening. The public friends, the ones who appear on your social media, who pose in paparazzi shots with you, will post public statements condemning you to protect their own reputations. And the real friends, the ones who have no interest in flaunting your friendship or standing next to you on red carpets, the ones who only cared about who you were before anyone knew your name, will quietly text you, scared and heartbroken, asking if the rumours are true.

There is an entire wave of private chaos happening behind the scenes that the public never sees.

The first twenty-four hours are critical. My advice is always the same. Stay offline. Protect your mental health. Let me take over. During that time, I need to piece everything together. I need to understand what is being said, where it is spreading, who is driving it. I need to assess whether it is becoming an international story, a national issue, or something more localised. Only once the full picture is clear can any real decisions be made.

The Reality of What You Are Exposed To

Another side of this work that often gets overlooked is the kind of material you are exposed to. It is not just conversations you have to manage. It is evidence you are asked to review (videos, audio recordings, photographs, documents) often highly personal, sometimes deeply disturbing.

Even last week, I watched a video linked to a case that is still replaying in my mind when I try to sleep. You cannot shield yourself from these things if you are trying to do the job properly. Sometimes you are working with police teams, legal advisors, digital forensic experts, and you have to witness difficult evidence firsthand in order to fully understand what your client is facing, and whether you believe them.

There is no way to filter or soften what you are exposed to. You have to learn how to process those experiences, manage the emotional impact privately, and stay professional while making clear-headed decisions.

You also have to accept that, occasionally, you will work with people whose opinions or past behaviour you personally disagree with. But I would rather it be me helping them, someone who can recognise dangerous behaviours and stop worse narratives developing, than someone who simply agrees with everything they say or encourages them. Managing crises properly is not about liking the client. It is about protecting public conversation from distortion and protecting the client, where possible, from escalating their own mistakes even further.

The psychology of online pile-ons

When someone reaches out to me, it is rarely because of one simple thing. Sometimes they have made a genuine mistake and are being cancelled for it. Other times, it is the result of false accusations, misunderstandings, or just becoming a fun target for public frustration.

You only have to look at Katy Perry recently. After she fucked up PR-wise by collaborating with Blue Origin's rocket launch, public opinion shifted fast. Now, even unrelated parts of her career, like her tour performances, are being mocked endlessly online. Not because of anything new, but because it is entertaining. Most people are not genuinely angry. Nobody really cares about Katy Perry attending a rocket launch. It is just entertaining drama, and people are always looking for someone new to slag off for a few weeks.

Psychologically, there are strong reasons why this happens. Negativity drives higher engagement than positivity, and platforms like TikTok reward anything that generates clicks, regardless of accuracy. Humans get a dopamine hit from likes, shares and approval online. Mocking someone publicly, especially someone famous, gives a quick rush of attention and makes people feel connected to a group.

Mocking celebrities is risk-free gossip. If you slag off a friend or a colleague, it might come back and bite you on the arse. But mocking a public figure comes with no personal consequences. It is framed as entertainment, not cruelty, even though it often crosses that line very easily.

TikTok in particular has accelerated this culture. People now position themselves as fake news reporters, confidently posting updates about celebrities or public figures without verifying anything. Sadly, millions of users trust them without fact-checking a thing. When I am managing cases, it can be genuinely frustrating to watch videos with completely false information spread to millions of people, knowing that 98 percent of what is being said is wrong. Once those narratives spread, there is very little chance of fully undoing them.

Being cancelled today is rarely about one mistake. It is about momentum, entertainment, and the emotional reward people get from feeling like part of a crowd tearing someone down.

The realities of working with controversial clients

You will also need thick skin. You will be exposed to opinions, behaviours and accusations that might not align with your personal beliefs. That is part of the reality of crisis work.

You are speaking to a huge range of people, across every background, and dealing with subjects that are often deeply sensitive. I have handled cases involving sexual assault allegations, rape accusations, harassment, racism, homophobia, professional misconduct, and financial fraud. There are no trigger warnings in this world. There is no slow lead-in to emotionally prepare you. You are expected to manage it with professionalism, no matter how uncomfortable the topic might be.

There are times when I have worked with people whose views or actions I disagreed with personally. But helping someone handle a crisis is not the same as endorsing everything they have ever said or done. I believe every person has the right to have factual information shared about them, not lies. Unfortunately, when someone becomes publicly unpopular, there is often no interest in whether the accusations against them are even true. People cling to whatever version of events suits their feelings.

If you need emotional validation every time a difficult situation comes up, or you find it overwhelming to be exposed to views you disagree with, this is not the right area of PR to work in. Boutique PR firms that work with specific causes or likeminded clients will suit you much better. In those roles, you are dealing with more predictable, values-led work, not managing the emotional chaos that comes with crisis management.

Crisis PR demands that you think quickly, listen carefully, protect confidential information fiercely, and keep your ego completely out of the room. It can be incredibly rewarding when it goes right. It can be emotionally draining when it does not. But if you are looking for flashing lights, celebrity selfies or viral drama, you are better off staying far away.

If you struggle with differing opinions

If you find it difficult to work with people whose views or actions differ from your own, crisis PR is likely not the right field for you. The job requires you to navigate a range of people, many of whom will have controversial pasts or opinions that challenge your personal values. You have to be able to separate your personal beliefs from your professional responsibility, even when you don’t agree with someone or their past actions.

The majority of people who reach out to me about working in crisis PR are shocked when I ask them how they would feel working with someone who has been accused of homophobia, for example. Most immediately say, “I wouldn’t risk it.” But that response is exactly why they’re not qualified for the job. Crisis PR is about hearing both sides, not just the side that fits your personal views or the most popular opinion. In many cases, the truth isn’t as clear-cut as it may seem. A screenshot might be edited, or a statement taken out of context. That person might not be homophobic at all. There are two sides to every story, and the public rarely sees the full picture.

It’s easy to cancel someone, especially when the public narrative is straightforward. But in reality, we all make mistakes, say things we regret, or act impulsively. Crisis PR isn’t about defending someone’s actions just because they made a mistake, it’s about giving them the space to learn, grow, and repair their reputation when the situation has been misunderstood or misrepresented. Everyone deserves the opportunity to move forward from a mistake, and it’s about finding the truth behind the headlines.

The people doing the cancelling often forget their own imperfections and quickly jump on the bandwagon without ever questioning whether they have the full story. In crisis PR, you have to take a balanced approach. You must listen, assess both sides, and help your client navigate their crisis, even if their actions don’t fully align with your personal values.

For those who struggle with this, I recommend boutique PR firms as an alternative. These firms often focus on clients whose views and actions align more directly with their own, and they deal more with positive press than the difficult, complex reputational work of crisis management. If you prefer working with people and causes that share your personal values, boutique PR is a better fit. But if you want to work in crisis PR, you’ll need to develop the ability to understand multiple perspectives and guide clients through their toughest times, even when their mistakes challenge your beliefs.