How to Get Into Crisis PR (From Someone Who Actually Does It)

I get asked all the time how to get into crisis PR, and honestly, there’s no set path. Unlike traditional PR, where there are clear routes—internships, agency work, brand communications—crisis PR is a different beast. It’s messy, unpredictable, and requires a very particular set of skills (and no, not the Liam Neeson in Taken kind, not cool enough for that).

Most people think it’s just about handling bad press, but it’s so much more than that. It’s about understanding people at their lowest, knowing how to navigate reputational landmines, and strategising the way out of chaos—all while keeping your emotions, opinions, and sometimes even your morals in check.

I got into this because I found traditional PR boring. Writing fluffy press releases, pitching lifestyle stories, sending the same media alerts over and over—it just wasn’t for me. I couldn’t cope with one more forced fun PR event, where everyone’s goal is to get a photo with a branded backdrop and subtly remind their Instagram followers that they must be important.

I love helping people, fixing impossible situations, and proving people wrong. One of my favourite things? Hearing someone confidently slag off one of my clients, fully believing the nonsense they read online—knowing I’m about to drop a truth bomb that completely changes their mind.

I also love learning about different cultures, people, and careers. I’ve read books on poker laws, magic, American football regulations, and random international legal systems, purely because I need to understand how different industries work to protect my clients properly. You’d be surprised how often a deep dive into niche laws or industries makes the difference between winning and losing a reputational battle.

And while people love to stay in their comfortable bubble, believing everyone thinks like them, my bubble? It gets popped weekly thanks to my clients ha ha.

If you’re thinking about crisis PR, here’s what you actually need:

Common Sense (Yes, Really)

It sounds basic, but you’d be shocked how many people in PR lack it. Crisis PR isn’t just about media management—it’s about reading situations quickly, making sharp decisions, and knowing when to act (or when silence is the best strategy). If you overcomplicate things, can’t see the bigger picture, or get caught up in your own emotions, you’ll struggle.

You also can’t be afraid of the legal side of things. If you work in crisis PR, you’re going to be dealing with lawyers—a lot. I speak to client legal teams regularly, reviewing statements for liability, advising on media risks, and sometimes even sitting in on virtual court appearances. You need to be comfortable with legal discussions, defamation law, intellectual property disputes, and even international jurisdiction issues. A client’s crisis doesn’t exist in a vacuum—it intersects with privacy laws, contractual obligations, regulatory scrutiny, and litigation risks. Knowing what to say is one thing—understanding the legal and reputational implications of saying it is another.

Common sense in crisis PR isn’t just about having good instincts—it’s about being able to assess risk in real-time, anticipate consequences, and operate under legal and ethical constraints while still achieving the best possible outcome for your client. If the idea of navigating legal threats, cease-and-desist letters, or high-stakes negotiations makes you panic, this job isn’t for you.

In crisis PR, every word matters—because the wrong one could cost your client not just their reputation, but millions in legal damages.

No Credit, No Recognition & No Set Working Hours

If you like praise, public credit, or predictable working hours, this is not the career for you.

Crisis PR is the opposite of traditional PR, where people are happy to put their names on campaign wins and case studies. In crisis work, your best work is invisible. If you’re doing your job properly, no one should know you were ever involved.

Your clients won’t tag you in a glowing testimonial, because they don’t want people to know they needed crisis PR in the first place. In fact, I don’t even let my clients follow me, like my posts, or engage with me publicly. It’s not rocket science what I do—my bio makes that clear. If a well-known name starts interacting with me online, fans and internet detectives will snoop, make connections, and suddenly that person’s PR crisis isn’t so private anymore.  I’ve had people say, “That must drive you crazy, not getting credit”—but if that’s how you think, this job isn’t for you. If you need a public pat on the back for your work, crisis PR will destroy you.

I also have no desire to share photos of my clients with me online—not that I’ve ever taken any. I don’t need strangers online knowing that I met someone well-known. My job is to fix problems, not collect celebrity selfies for clout.

And beyond that, if I was the type to show off luxury hotels, fancy flights, or big-name clients, I’d never get a client again. The first thing public figures do when considering working with me is check my online presence—and if I looked like someone who treated this job as a backstage pass to fame, I wouldn’t trust me either.

Most of my work is seen by millions but only known by a handful of people, and personally, I find that pretty cool. Knowing you’ve influenced major headlines, reshaped public perception, or quietly prevented a crisis from ever surfacing—but only you and a few others will ever know? That’s more satisfying to me than any public credit could be.

Some of the biggest moments I’ve worked on? Crises that never unravelled because of the strategies I put in place, speeches I’ve written that were heard by millions, headlines I’ve rewritten before they ever saw the light of day, interviews I’ve structured to shift entire narratives, and social media removals I’ve orchestrated to stop a situation from spiralling further. And when it’s all over? I don’t get a standing ovation—I either order a Deliveroo or go to the client’s place (or mine) for a quiet celebratory dinner in private. That’s the reality of this job.

Most of my work is about making a situation disappear, not making noise. If you’re in this job for ego, recognition, or validation, you’ll burn out fast.

And then there’s the working hours—or lack of them.

You’re on call 24/7. A crisis doesn’t wait until you’ve finished dinner or had a full eight hours of sleep. I’ve had to write and approve statements at 2 AM, deal with breaking scandals on weekends, and work across multiple time zones because a client in LA needs something sorted before the UK even wakes up.

This job doesn’t respect weekends, holidays, or personal plans. If you need strict work-life balance, crisis PR will eat you alive.

Strong Writing Skills (And a Lot of Them)

You will be writing a lot—and I mean a lot. On average, I write around 20,000–30,000 words per week, from statements to rebuttals, media responses, social media strategy, crisis comms, and entire speeches. If you’re not comfortable writing at speed (and under pressure), this job isn’t for you.

I have a degree in English Language, not that I feel it helps much in this field. Being able to write well is the lowest expectation—it’s the bare minimum. What actually matters is learning your client’s tone, style, and quirks so that anything written on their behalf sounds natural—right down to the smallest details.

That means even something as subtle as switching between UK and US spelling and grammar without thinking twice. If I’m writing for a British client, it’s “apologise”—for an American, it’s “apologize.” If I slip up, it instantly signals that something is off.

And if a client is European, it gets even more complicated. Some countries teach British English, others American, and many people unknowingly mix both. I always ask what kind of English they learnt or naturally write in, because even though they might not notice the inconsistencies, their audience will.

I have one client who mostly uses UK phrasing—then out of nowhere, they’ll say something like “hamburger”, which is distinctly American. It’s a small detail, but in crisis PR, small details matter. If your writing doesn’t blend in seamlessly, people notice—and that alone can create more problems than the original crisis.

That means knowing:

• The exact words and phrases they use in everyday speech

• How they naturally say things like haha, lol, or nothing at all

• Whether they use short, blunt sentences or long, flowing explanations

• If they would say “I appreciate that” or “Cheers”

You have to adapt instantly to different clients. One might be a polished CEO, the next a chaotic influencer who types in lowercase with no punctuation. If your writing sounds off—even slightly—the public will notice, and that can cause even more damage.

Oh, and be prepared to have no social life. I get calls at 2 AM needing a statement out to the likes of BBC, Sky News, or TMZ within 40 minutes, and there’s no time for drafts or second-guessing. You need to be able to handle extreme pressure, make quick decisions, and be confident that what you’re putting out isn’t going to make the situation worse.

Being Personable (But a Chameleon)

Crisis PR isn’t about selling a product—it’s about working with people at their lowest. You need to be able to read the room and adjust your personality to suit different clients. Some want a therapist, some want brutal honesty, some just want someone to take control so they can ignore it all. You can’t walk in with one fixed approach; you need to become whoever they need in that moment.

The Ability to Put Your Personal Opinions Aside

If you can’t see both sides of an argument, crisis PR is not for you. You’ll be dealing with people who have been dragged, cancelled, accused of things, sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly. If your first instinct is to moralise instead of strategise, this job will eat you alive. Your personal opinions don’t matter here—your job is to find the best way forward for your client.

If you’re super PC and unwilling to respect other opinions, this job is impossible. Being close-minded just doesn’t work. Crisis PR isn’t about what you believe—it’s about understanding how different audiences react to different messages and using that knowledge to shift the narrative.

And if you fear being judged? This won’t work for you. People in your life will sometimes question why you’re helping certain people, but if you let that sway your work, you’re in the wrong job. You have to remind yourself—they only know what the public has been told, which is often a fraction of the real story, shaped by whatever narrative took off first. They don’t know what’s happening behind the scenes, what’s been twisted, what’s been left out. They’re reacting to headlines, out-of-context videos, and outrage cycles—usually without having researched anything at all. If you can’t handle that, you won’t last long in crisis PR.

A Willingness to Study Different Professions

One day, I might be working with a poker player, the next a magician, a rapper, the next an NFL athlete. If you don’t take the time to understand their world, their industry, and their audience, you’ll give terrible advice.

I’ve read books on everything from gambling laws in different countries to the business of magic to American football regulations, purely because I need to understand how different industries work to protect my clients properly. You need to be obsessed with learning—because in crisis PR, a lack of knowledge can lead to a very public mistake. I once spent an entire weekend studying a feud between two high-profile rappers—breaking down their slang, understanding the nuances of their audience, and figuring out exactly what their fans wanted to hear. By the time I was done, I could write in a way that blended in seamlessly. No one would have guessed that the statement didn’t come from New York, but from me, sitting in London, England.

Understanding How Google & Social Media Actually Work

Most PR professionals still think newspapers and magazines define reputations, but in 2025, Google and social media are the real battlefields. A single damaging headline might fade from social media within days, but if it ranks on page one of Google, it becomes a permanent stain on someone’s name. Public perception isn’t shaped by what’s true—it’s shaped by what’s visible.

On top of that, social media platforms dictate what spreads and what disappears, which is why having direct contacts at Meta, TikTok, YouTube, and X (Twitter) is just as important as understanding search rankings. Whether it’s removing harmful content, handling mass-reporting attacks, or working within platform policies, knowing the right people and processes makes the difference between a quick resolution and an irreversible PR disaster.

Owning Honest London, my social media agency, means I’ve built relationships that allow me to strategically manage narratives across both Google and social media. Honest London manages brand accounts, while I personally handle public figure accounts, some of which have over 30 million followers. That level of visibility means one misstep can spiral instantly, so understanding platform policies, content moderation loopholes, and real-time crisis management is essential.

Knowing how to:

• Control search engine results to ensure accurate, authoritative information ranks above misinformation

• Remove or de-index damaging content through legal, regulatory, or policy-based strategies

• Leverage key platform relationships to expedite removals, appeal suspensions, and manage online crises effectively

• Strategically push new, high-ranking content to shift the narrative in a way that feels organic, not forced

• Understand search intent—because how people Google something determines what they believe

• Navigate social media algorithms to limit the visibility of negative content while amplifying a client’s preferred narrative

…is what separates traditional PR from crisis PR. You’re not just responding to bad press—you’re rewriting what the internet remembers.

General Knowledge & Keeping Up With the World

You need to know what’s happening globally, politically, and culturally, because one misstep can land a client in trouble. The dumbest scandals often start from someone being tone-deaf—a celebrity posting something clueless in the middle of a global crisis, or a brand making a joke that backfires. If you don’t stay informed, you can’t advise properly.

If I’m writing for a politician, how could I possibly do that effectively if I have no idea what’s happening in the world of politics, human rights, or international relations? If I’m advising a public figure involved in a financial controversy, I need to understand economic trends, regulatory changes, and public sentiment around corporate accountability.

I also have clients who are major players in the crypto world, and that’s not an industry where you can just ride the wave and pretend to know what you’re talking about. You have to study it, stay on top of market movements, regulations, blockchain technology, and public sentiment—because the difference between knowing the landscape and just faking it is the difference between strategic crisis management and completely tanking a client’s reputation.

Crisis PR isn’t just about damage control—it’s about shaping narratives in a way that aligns with current events and public perception. Clients rely on me to know what they should and shouldn’t say, and sometimes that means preventing a disaster before it even happens. If you’re not naturally curious about world events, different cultures, and how public perception shifts across different demographics, this job will be impossible.

Not Being Starstruck

A lot of public figures work with me because they don’t want a fan, they want a fixer. If you get giddy at the idea of working with famous people, this isn’t the career for you. Clients don’t want someone who’s impressed by their follower count; they want someone who knows how to protect them when things go wrong.

I’ve worked with A-list actors, chart-topping artists, high-profile politicians, world-class athletes, and major sports stars—but there’s nothing glamorous about it. We don’t get the smoke and mirrors. We don’t see the red carpet version of these people; we see the raw, unfiltered, behind-the-scenes reality—which, most of the time, is stress, panic, and damage control.

Once, I sat with an actress—someone millions would recognise—who was in her Alo Yoga joggers and a hoodie, a shell of herself, with no makeup on, barely able to make us a cup of tea because she was so anxious over a fake rumour that had spiralled out of control. When you see people like that, when you see them as human, not as celebrities, it changes your perspective entirely.

If you’re in this for the glamour, the parties, the idea of being ‘in the room’ with famous people, or to show off on social media, this is not the job for you. Working with public figures isn’t the right path at all if that’s your motivation—though ironically, in my experience, these are the people who often end up in PA roles or event PR. You only have to look at their Instagram feeds to see why.

Crisis PR isn’t about collecting selfies or proximity to fame—it’s about helping people in their most vulnerable moments, getting the truth out, and giving them a way forward when everything feels like it’s falling apart. If that’s what drives you, then you might just be the right person for this work.

The Psychological Toll of Being Cancelled & The Role of Crisis PR

Being cancelled is one of the most mentally damaging experiences a person can go through. The internet doesn’t just criticise—it dehumanises. It turns someone into a villain, strips away nuance, and amplifies the most extreme version of events until the person at the centre of it all barely recognises themselves.

I’ve had clients tell me they feel completely hopeless, utterly alone, and even suicidal. When someone is at their lowest, they don’t just need PR—they need someone who can think clearly when they can’t. The ability to manage a reputational crisis is one part legal strategy, one part communications expertise, and—whether people admit it or not—one part crisis counselling.

You’re often dealing with people in a state of emotional and psychological freefall. Their world has collapsed overnight, their sense of identity is shaken, and they are no longer thinking logically or strategically. If you can’t handle the weight of being their anchor when they’re spiralling, this job isn’t for you.

Crisis PR at this level requires a therapist’s ability to read emotions, a strategist’s ability to see the bigger picture, and a legal expert’s understanding of risk—all while ensuring that whatever you say or advise won’t worsen the situation further.

At times, it’s not just about managing the crisis externally—it’s about managing the person internally. If you can’t stay calm, rational, and composed in the face of intense panic, paranoia, or even breakdowns, you won’t last in this field. You need to know when to be direct, when to be reassuring, and when to tell someone the brutal truth they’re avoiding.

This job isn’t just about press strategies—it’s about people. And people in crisis don’t always behave predictably. If you don’t have the ability to balance authority with empathy, this isn’t the career for you.

Over the years, I’ve studied and read extensively on psychology, crisis management, human behaviour, and cognitive biases—not because I need a qualification in it, but because understanding how people react under pressure, process fear, and justify their actions is critical to handling crises effectively. If you don’t understand why someone is panicking, defensive, or making irrational choices, you won’t be able to guide them out of it. Crisis PR isn’t just about what to say publicly—it’s about getting your client in the right headspace to follow the plan.

Ignoring the Noise & Trusting Your Instinct

This is a big one. You will, at times, go against what your friends, family, and social circles believe. You’ll see headlines, X threads, and outraged TikToks that paint your client as the villain, and you’ll have to trust your own judgment instead.

It’s easy to get caught up in the emotion of a public scandal, but your job isn’t to take sides—it’s to look at the facts, strip away the hysteria, and make strategic decisions based on logic, not feelings.

People in your life will sometimes question why you’re helping certain people if they figure it out, but if you let that sway your work, you’re in the wrong job. Crisis PR is about handling the truth, not the noise.

I don’t share client details—NDAs exist for a reason—but there’s always that underlying risk that something could get out. A leaked email, a stray comment, or even just being photographed with the wrong person at the wrong time. That’s the nature of this job.

Personally? I wouldn’t care. I’m not ashamed of my work—in fact, I’m proud of it. People love to judge those in crisis PR, but they wouldn’t question a doctor, therapist, or lawyer for working with controversial clients. So why is PR different?

The argument I always hear is, “But you’re helping their reputation.”

And my response? So is a lawyer defending them in court, a therapist helping them process their issues, or a doctor treating them regardless of their actions. They’re all offering a service that improves a situation, whether that’s health, legal standing, or mental wellbeing.

The difference? I’m not here to cover up crimes or spin lies—I’m here to make sure the truth gets out. If someone is being publicly dragged, I want to know:

• What’s actually true, and what’s just hysteria?

• Is there missing context?

• Has the internet run wild with misinformation?

I don’t protect lies. I make sure the full picture is seen, not just the most sensationalised version. And let’s be real—if someone truly didn’t deserve a second chance, no amount of PR would save them. The public isn’t stupid. If the truth doesn’t hold up, people won’t buy into it, no matter how well it’s presented.

And if a client has values or beliefs that go against the norm? I’d rather be there guiding them, steering them towards accountability or a smarter way forward—rather than leaving them to someone who will only reinforce worse, more damaging behaviour.

At the end of the day, PR doesn’t create innocence—it creates clarity. I can’t manufacture a reputation out of thin air, but I can correct narratives, remove noise, and let people make their judgments based on facts, not fiction.

So, You Think You Tick the Boxes?

Crisis PR isn’t just a job—it’s a way of thinking. If you thrive under pressure, can separate fact from hysteria, and don’t mind being on call 24/7, then it’s one of the most interesting, challenging, and rewarding industries to work in.

But how do you actually get into it?

There’s no perfect way into this career, but if you’re serious about it, I’d recommend:

1. Ditch Uni (Unless You’re Studying Something Useful)

A degree won’t teach you how to handle a full-blown media storm. If you want to study something useful, look at digital marketing, data analytics, or media law—anything that teaches you about Google search, social media algorithms, and how digital information spreads. But honestly? If I could go back, I’d skip university and start working sooner.

2. Get into PR—Any PR

You need to understand how the press works before you can manage a crisis in it. Get experience at a PR firm, in corporate communications, or in digital marketing. Learn how journalists think, how stories are framed, and how narratives are controlled.

3. Work Somewhere That Deals with Public Figures

If you’re interested in the celebrity/public figure side of crisis PR, find a PR firm that touches on entertainment, talent management, or influencer marketing. Understanding how public figures operate, how their teams manage them, and how audiences react to them is crucial.

4. Work in Journalism (Even if it’s Small-Scale)

If you want to learn how the media really works, be the media. Even working for a small online magazine or writing for a blog will teach you how stories gain traction, how news spreads, and what makes a headline stick. If you can understand how a journalist thinks, you can reverse-engineer it for PR.

5. Get a Job in Marketing or Digital Strategy

Crisis PR isn’t just about handling scandals—it’s about controlling narratives. And that means understanding how information moves online. Marketing, digital strategy, and social media management all give you valuable skills in controlling messaging and shaping public perception.

6. If You Can, Find a Crisis PR Firm (But Know What You’re Getting Into)

There aren’t many true crisis PR firms. Most of them don’t actually do deep, hands-on crisis management—they just write a statement and move on. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a firm that does real damage control, but from my experience, most don’t dive into the actual fixing. If you do go this route, make sure you’re learning about digital removals, narrative shifting, and strategic crisis handling—not just press statements.

When people—especially businesses—find themselves in crisis, they like to get two opinions. More often than not, I’ll be hired alongside a PR firm that offers ‘crisis comms’, and the difference in approach is always entertaining. These days, a lot of firms are churning out generic statements written by ChatGPT—which is madness in high-stakes situations where every word needs to be carefully considered.

And then there’s the inevitable clash of approaches. Traditional PR firms will often argue that my strategies are ‘too high risk’, because I don’t just focus on damage limitation—I focus on actually fixing the problem. I, of course, politely disagree (ha), but it makes for some fun battles. The reality is, playing it too safe often does more harm than good—especially when public perception has already turned. Sometimes, the bolder move is the smarter one.

How I Did It

I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to work in crisis PR—I built the skills unaware over years of experience in different industries. Truth be told, I didn’t even know this was a career.

I got a degree in English Language (not that it helped much). I took on a lot of temporary roles to learn skills, meaning I interned, worked at magazine houses, spent time as a journalist, worked in digital marketing, PR firms, and SEO roles—all before even touching crisis PR. It took me over 10 years before I even considered myself qualified enough to be good at this work.

I always knew I wanted to run my own agency, and I was initially focused on running a social media agency, but crisis PR kind of said “hello” too. The work found me before I even sought it out.

I discovered social media agencies from both sides—working for them and being a client—and honestly? Most of them were terrible. Overpriced, out of touch, and offering generic strategies that didn’t actually move the needle. I figured, how hard can it be to just be honest? Turns out, that approach worked.

Along the way, I also ended up helping public figure friends navigate their own crises—completely unofficially, before I ever considered it a career. I think people trusted me because I’m straight-thinking, not overly emotional, and not judgemental. I was always the person friends came to when they needed someone who could separate fact from noise and give a clear, logical solution.

Hilariously, even in my personal life, I’ve always had that instinct to consider both sides—even when it wasn’t exactly welcomed. I’m not exactly girl-coded—my friends would be slagging off their boyfriends, expecting me to agree and call him whatever name they’d picked for the week, and instead, I’d be sitting there thinking, “What’s his side of the story?” Meanwhile, the rest of the group of girlies would be nodding along in full agreement, no questions asked. It’s basically cancel culture in action—people believing the first and most trusted side without ever hearing the other. Ha.

I’ve also always been a bit of a dork. I love reading, learning, and deep-diving into random topics in my own time. Relaxing, to me, is reading a book on physics, not keeping up with celebrity gossip. I’m not the “I love celebrities” type, but I love interesting things—and crises are interesting. The people at the centre of them? Usually interesting too. I’ve always been fascinated by how narratives unfold, how different sides of a story clash, and how the truth gets lost in the noise.

I didn’t realise at the time, but I was already learning the exact skills I use in my work today. That’s why I always say: you won’t learn this job in a classroom. You learn it by doing it.

Final Thoughts

Crisis PR isn’t a normal job. You’re on call 24/7, expected to switch gears instantly, questioning your own morals, and constantly balancing high-pressure situations. But if you stay calm in chaos, love problem-solving, and want to genuinely change the way reputations are shaped, it’s one of the most challenging, rewarding, and unique industries to work in.

You won’t learn this job in a classroom. You learn it by doing it. Whether that’s working in PR, journalism, or behind the scenes of a crisis, the best way to break into this field is to throw yourself into industries where reputation is everything.

And if you do end up in crisis PR, be prepared to spend your life solving problems most people don’t even know exist—and to do it all with no credit, no recognition, and definitely no set working hours.