Working with controversial figures isn’t what you think

People don’t blink when a therapist treats someone in prison. They don’t question a lawyer defending someone the internet hates. Doctors, even if they completely disagree with a patient’s views, are still trusted to do their job professionally.

But for some reason, when someone in PR works with a controversial public figure, we’re suddenly viewed as part of the problem. There’s this odd assumption that if I’m helping them, I must either share their views or be trying to spin them into someone they’re not. But working with controversial figures really isn’t what people assume it is.

Why I keep my client list private

The main reason I don’t publicly share who I work with is because it affects the results. If the public knows that a statement came from a PR strategy, it instantly feels less genuine. People start analysing every word and looking for the strings behind the scenes. It stops being a human moment and becomes a performance.

So for credibility alone, it’s better to keep things quiet.

That said, I’m not a name-dropper anyway. I don’t feel the need to tell people who I know or what I’ve worked on to get some sort of reaction. And privately, I’ve found it also avoids a lot of unnecessary judgement. Especially in a world where headlines are taken as fact and people are often quick to decide how they feel about someone based on the first story they read.

I like an easy life. Keeping things private helps my clients and helps me. It’s a win-win.

Crisis PR isn’t about defending someone. It’s about control

There’s this assumption that PR is about helping people maintain power or influence, but that’s only one version of it. Crisis work is much broader than that. Sometimes I’m brought in because someone genuinely messed up and wants to handle it properly. Other times, they’ve been falsely accused of something and want to make sure their side is heard. And in plenty of cases, they’re not asking to be liked at all, they just want the truth out and the noise dialled down.

The goals are completely different depending on the person. Some want a clean slate. Some want facts corrected. Some just want things to stop snowballing. And occasionally, someone wants to keep their relatively decent reputation intact without accidentally offending half the internet by breathing too loudly.

Right now, that’s more difficult than you’d think.

The margin for error is tiny

You wear the wrong designer, support the wrong business, post the wrong thing, or use the wrong word, and suddenly your name’s trending. You’re “part of the problem.” You’re cancelled. Sometimes even for something you didn’t realise was offensive in the first place.

And this is coming from someone who considers themselves fairly up to date on all of this. Even I find myself regularly double-checking whether a term or phrase is still OK to use. The social landscape shifts so quickly that it can feel like stepping through a minefield. So imagine being someone who isn’t in that world at all, but posts something offhandedly and then wakes up to outrage.

That’s where PR comes in. Not to cover anything up. Just to help navigate a very reactive world and prevent someone from losing everything over a sentence they didn’t know could be taken the wrong way.

The real job is making sure the truth gets heard

As much as people love to hate-read a dramatic headline, there’s still something to be said for basic fairness. I often work alongside lawyers to make sure what’s being published is actually accurate. Not to make someone look innocent when they’re not, but because sometimes false claims gain traction so fast that by the time the truth comes out, no one cares anymore.

I’ve worked with clients who honestly didn’t care about being popular. They weren’t hoping for a comeback. They just couldn’t stand being accused of things they didn’t do. And however you feel about someone, that seems like a reasonable thing to want.

Outrage is part of the business model

By now, most people understand that media outlets rely on clicks. But what they don’t always realise is how deliberately those clicks are engineered. If a headline can be worded in a way that provokes an instant emotional reaction, anger, outrage, disgust, it’s going to perform better. And performance means revenue.

Some of my clients get used repeatedly by certain outlets, not because they’ve done anything new, but because they’re guaranteed to stir something up. Sometimes their name’s just thrown in as a reference point, knowing it’ll light up the comments section.

It’s not personal. It’s just very efficient bait.

The algorithm doesn’t care who’s right

A good example recently was the UK Supreme Court’s ruling in For Women Scotland Ltd v The Scottish Ministers, which clarified, by law, that “woman” in the Equality Act means biological sex. Within hours, the press went into overdrive. Not just reporting the story, but packaging it for maximum outrage.

GB News was all over it. I remember seeing a new video uploaded what felt like every few hours. Different guests. Same talking points. Then J.K. Rowling posted a photo of herself holding a cigar, celebrating the decision. That image alone became content. People shared it, dissected it, reacted to it.

Then came the protest signs. Placards outside Parliament with violent threats, which in turn became more media content. The reaction was picked up and reframed as proof that free speech is under attack. And round it goes.

The story becomes the reaction. Then the reaction becomes the next story. And the algorithm loves it.

Some people last. Most don’t.

In the music world especially, I’ve worked with a lot of people at the very start of their careers. Sometimes I’ll help shape their public image, not just in terms of public statements, but researching their target audience, fine-tuning how they come across in interviews, and occasionally doing a bit of light PR training so they don’t accidentally say something career-ending on a podcast. I somehow almost always end up helping with their clothes and style too, which is fun, but definitely not technically in my job remit haha.

Sometimes, I decide not to work with someone at all, because they’re just not workable. Some are incredibly rude. They ignore everyone around them. They think they’re above taking advice. And they burn through teams at speed.

It’s become oddly predictable. Someone blows up on TikTok overnight, acts like they’re untouchable, and disappears a year later. It’s not always because the talent vanished. It’s because the support system did.

I’ve also worked with artists who have already had massive success, number ones in the US, global recognition, huge moments. But then the relevance fades. Sometimes it’s because they haven’t kept up with what’s current. Sometimes they refuse to adapt. Sometimes they’re such a nightmare to work with that their team changes constantly. They think they know best, ignore advice, and miss the chance to build something lasting. The momentum goes, and they can’t get it back.

These are often the toughest clients. They usually reach out because they know something’s slipping, but they’re still completely in denial about it. They won’t listen to any suggestions, and they reject anything that doesn’t match the ideas they’ve already come up with themselves.

At that point, I often have to explain, quite honestly, that there’s no point working together if they’re not actually open to doing anything differently. If you’re asking for help but only want to hear your own ideas repeated back to you, it’s not a collaboration. And in PR, especially when you’re trying to recapture relevance, refusing to adapt is the fastest way to stay exactly where you are.

The irony is always there

What’s funny, or a bit tragic depending how you look at it, is that the people the internet loves to hate are often lovely behind the scenes. And the ones who are adored, are sometimes the worst.

I’ve been spoken to in ways I wouldn’t say to anyone by some of America’s most loved and “kindest” celebs. I’ve had people with millions of fans say things to me that are so incredibly rude that without a doubt would go viral if I repeated them.

Meanwhile, a so-called “controversial” client will be the one asking how my day was and sending thank you flowers, following up on how something shitty in my personal life is going.

People say “the internet isn’t real life” as a throwaway phrase. But honestly, it’s one of the most accurate things you can say about this industry.

Who would you rather have in the room?

Here’s the bit no one talks about. If someone like me doesn’t work with a controversial client, someone else will. And that person will most likely be a fan, enabler or someone very intimidated by them. Someone who agrees with everything they say. Someone who won’t question them, won’t push back, and won’t even try to redirect them from doing something reckless.

So realistically, who’s the better option? Someone impartial and strategic, or someone emotionally invested and likely to egg them on?

Not every situation needs saving

There are clients who want to come back from something. There are others who just want it to stop spiralling. And sometimes, I’m not even there to fix anything. I’m just there to make sure no one else gets dragged into it.

Silence isn’t always a cover-up. Sometimes it’s just the only responsible option left.

What you don’t see matters

It’s easy to judge when you’re only seeing the public version of something, whether that’s through the press or on social media. But what you’re seeing is rarely the full story. Most of the time, it’s been shaped behind the scenes, agreed between lawyers, PRs, agents and the people involved after weeks of stress and negotiation.

I’ve worked on high-profile divorces where the two people involved are barely on speaking terms, and what’s being said privately would never make it into a shared statement. More often than not, what they’re saying to and about each other isn’t fully true. It’s exaggerated, emotional and said in the heat of the moment.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard one of them say they’re going to post everything, or draft something themselves to get there first. I’ve been in rooms where someone is on Canva, mid-breakdown, writing a full-blown takedown of their soon-to-be ex. They want their version out first, not because it’s accurate, but because they want to hurt them. Sometimes they don’t even care how true it is. They just want to be heard, loudly.

And if they don’t have a PR or legal team telling them to pause, those posts do sometimes go live. And when they do, it’s always a nightmare. It might feel good for five minutes, but it nearly always backfires and becomes something that makes everything worse.

It’s the same dynamic you see in everyday life. If your best friend is telling you about an argument they’ve had with their boyfriend, deep down you know you’re only hearing one side. But because they’re your friend, your reaction is probably just, “God, what an arsehole.” You back them. But if the boyfriend sat you down and told you his version, it would likely sound completely different, maybe even justified. That’s why the phrase exists: there are always two sides to every story.

In PR, the problem is that people rarely wait for both. The first version is usually the one that sticks. Once that person has posted or spoken, the other one is on the defensive, chasing the narrative, trying to untangle exaggerations or sometimes flat-out lies. And by then, the damage is already done.

But not every situation I deal with is a controversial person or a divorce. I’ve worked with families grieving the death of someone in the public eye, helping them navigate press interest when they’re barely getting through the day. I’ve seen how cruel the public can be, judging how someone looks at a funeral, questioning their facial expressions, or even accusing them of not looking “sad enough” after losing a child. The lack of compassion is staggering. These are people experiencing the worst moment of their life, and somehow they still have to worry about how their grief will be interpreted by strangers.

I’ve also supported clients facing serious illness who want to share what they’re going through on their own terms, or not at all. In those cases, my role is just about giving them space, protecting their boundaries, and making sure things don’t spiral into speculation.

And then there are the clients who are struggling with the pressures of fame. People who haven’t done anything wrong but are simply overwhelmed. Sometimes it’s someone who can’t read their comments anymore without spiralling. Sometimes it’s an actor or artist waking up to harsh press that completely knocks them. In those cases, I’ll often help manage their socials so they don’t have to look. We’ll quietly put out more positive stories to help shift the tone. Not to manipulate the public, just to make sure they don’t feel hated by the entire world.

Crisis PR takes a lot of forms. It’s not always a scandal. It’s not always about defending someone controversial. Sometimes it’s just helping someone get through something awful without it becoming a spectacle.

So yes, I work with controversial people sometimes.

Everyone has their limits, and I have mine. There are some viewpoints and behaviours that I personally won’t go near. If someone holds extreme beliefs or has done something I find ethically impossible to support, I won’t take it on. I’ve turned down work before because the situation just crossed a line for me, and that’s how it should be. Every person, and every agency, draws their lines differently.

But disagreement alone doesn’t bother me. I don’t expect everyone to share my worldview. If a client has political, cultural or social views I don’t personally agree with, that’s not automatically a dealbreaker. The world is full of people who see things differently, and I don’t think that’s inherently dangerous. It can even be interesting.

That said, there are certain areas where I do feel strongly. One of them is family vlogging. It’s not something I personally feel comfortable supporting, because I’ve seen the long-term impact it can have on children who grow up in that kind of spotlight. Another PR person or agency might not feel the same way, and that’s completely fine. That’s the reality of working with individuals. We all have our own lines, values and personal boundaries.

Which is also why crisis PR looks so different depending on who’s doing it. It’s not just about defending someone who’s been cancelled. Sometimes it’s about helping someone set boundaries before things spiral. Sometimes it’s about protecting someone who’s being unfairly attacked. And sometimes it’s just quietly guiding someone through a very personal situation that’s accidentally become public.