Reflecting on 40 Years of Crisis Management

August 20, 2025 | By John Onoda

Reading Time: 4 minutes

John Onoda

Is it my imagination or is the sheer number of situations that require the engagement of crisis experts skyrocketing? I know global warming is increasing the number of natural disasters, just as I know fast-moving technology — social media, AI, robots, drones and such — is leveraging the law of unintended consequences to raise all kinds of hell with the human race. So, I can see many reasons why crises might be occurring more often in all areas of life.

I wonder about this, because even though I never set out to specialize in crisis work, it sort of feels like it has sought me out throughout my career, which now spans four decades. One reason for this is because I’ve worked for global brands and global leaders (Holiday Inn, Harrah’s Casinos, McDonald’s, Levi Strauss, General Motors, Visa USA and Charles Schwab); and companies with worldwide visibility are trouble magnets.

Another source of crises I’ve worked on are historic events — the 1989 San Francisco Earthquake, 9/11, The Great Recession, the Pandemic, the Maui Fire and Y2K (admittedly, this is a crisis that didn’t happen, but tell that to the team of people I had in place to spring into action upon the collapse of civilization on January 1, 2000).

I guess some part of me thought that after I’d put so many crises to rest, there would be fewer of them left to bedevil the world; but I see that’s like a fire fighter expecting fewer fires in a time of global warming. Not happening.

So, I’m left to wonder whether there is a root source for the unending flow of crises that is, apparently, part of the human condition?

One challenge of crisis work done over a long career is the sense of déjà vu that must be pushed aside when engaging a roomful of new clients. How many general counsels have misguidedly argued for bland, non-responsive answers to important questions for fear any comment can be weaponized by plaintiffs? How many labor negotiators — without regard to corporate reputation — have argued against publicly correcting demonstrably inaccurate accusations from striking workers? How many science or math-oriented leaders — largely blind to the cultural and personal values that drive most human behavior — will insist employees will readily accept radical change once they are “presented with the facts”?

I don’t mean to sound whiny. Despite the déjà vu that must be kept at bay, crisis work is consistently engaging because its outcomes are almost always determined by human behavior; and all the emotional and psychological elements at play are fascinating.

There has never been a major crisis in which everyone agreed on everything. Fear, greed, pride, anger and ambition are usually in the room during any group discussion. Everyone has blind spots that become evident to others. Words like fair, reasonable, respect and just are often used in ways that reveal the participants have different understandings of what they mean.

To me, it’s a bit like watching a Shakespearean play. I’ve seen Romeo and Juliet performed many times, and it’s fascinating how each set of actors find new interpretations of the characters and relationships. Yes, there is mild déjà vu when you hear “Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” but it is easy to get past the words to delve into the drama of the moment. And this is what it’s like (for me, at least) to be sorting my way through a crisis.

I enter an engagement knowing that while it may have many twists and turns, it will end, eventually. I know key decisions will involve a balancing of financial, legal and human considerations. I know culture — corporate, sectoral, regional, national and generational — will be a critical factor. Given similar challenges, Facebook will not reach the same response as McDonald’s will. Nike will not handle a problem the same as Citibank.

The set of human emotions affecting outcomes will be largely constant, but how they will play out in any given situation is uncertain.

So, is it my imagination, or are crises multiplying? Maybe the better question is whether we’ve mistaken novelty for complexity. Strip away the memes, the hashtags and the AI-generated outrage, and you find the same human ingredients I’ve been witnessing for 40 years — fear, pride, ambition, egoism, overconfidence, lack of empathy and many more.

What changes is the stage set and the speed of the plot development.

Which means that from at least one vantage point, people who think they’re dealing with “unprecedented” crises can be seen as actors unaware they are participating in a timeless play. The tragedy isn’t that the script keeps repeating — it’s that too many walk on stage without benefitting from all the permutations of the basic script that have already been staged.