When Facts Don’t Matter: Navigating the Court of Public Opinion

In today’s media landscape, facts often feel secondary when it comes to shaping public perception. Social media’s constant activity, the 24-hour news cycle, and a never-ending appetite for drama mean public opinion is rarely about evidence. Instead, it’s fuelled by speculation, emotion, and, above all, the thrill of the debate. Whether they lean “politically correct” or anti-PC, people love picking apart public figures and companies, imagining themselves experts on the lives of strangers or the inner workings of businesses they’ve never worked at. And when facts get in the way? They’re all too easily brushed aside.

When a public figure or brand faces cancellation, the demand for an immediate response is relentless. Before social media, issuing a holding statement was often enough to buy time while gathering the facts. Today, however, it’s rarely enough. The public now expects instant answers, and while PR teams work to investigate and respond properly, social media (TikTok especially), the press, morning shows, and other platforms are already dissecting, speculating, creating conspiracy theories, and spreading rumours. Conspiring, after all, has become a business in itself—many are chasing viral attention, often profiting from spinning half-truths into sensation, and people, sadly, believe these lies.

For public figures, it’s a constant balancing act, but the real challenge often isn’t their actions—it’s the divided audience watching. On one side, there’s the “politically correct” crowd, quick to jump on any supposed misstep in their view—a careless remark in an interview or not publicly supporting a trending cause. On the other, the anti-PC brigade is ready to mock anything seen as overly sensitive, calling it “snowflake” behaviour.

It seems we’re at a point where if you don’t agree with someone’s stance, then you’re automatically in the wrong. The idea of differing opinions has become strangely taboo. “Just because you’re offended, it doesn’t mean you’re right”—yet for many, the only acceptable perspective is their own, leaving little room for real debate or understanding. This, in essence, is the problem with cancel culture: it shuts out differing perspectives while, ironically, using social media—the very platform meant to amplify voices—to limit which ones are heard.

Case Study: Ricky Gervais and the Power of Public Outrage

A number of my clients are comedians, and many now struggle to continue their work without facing backlash over any “edgy” joke. They still have loyal audiences, but as their sketches are filmed and shared online, it often sparks chaos far beyond their core fanbase. Comedians like Ricky Gervais, however, have managed to turn this outrage into opportunity. Gervais and Netflix embraced the backlash surrounding his 2023 stand-up special, Armageddon, using it to their advantage and making it one of Netflix’s most talked-about releases globally.

Gervais himself has credited a large part of the show’s success to “everyone who hated it and whined about it.” Even before the show aired, teasers from Armageddon sparked criticism for “poor-taste jokes” and “ableist slurs.” A petition calling for Netflix to pull the show gained thousands of signatures, while charities like Scope publicly condemned Gervais’s remarks, saying “language like this has consequences.”

But for Gervais, this backlash was just another part of the publicity. He casually dismissed the outrage on social media, retweeting the petition himself with a tongue-in-cheek “Good luck.” Gervais has built a reputation on politically incorrect humour, and he knows his audience loves the drama that surrounds his work. As he once pointed out, most of the complaints he receives are “faux offense,” from people who “just want to be heard.” This approach—leaning into the outrage—means he never has to compromise his act. In fact, he uses the very people offended by his jokes to further popularise them. His strategy is as clear as it is clever: people can’t resist watching something that they know will offend them, and their reactions, both positive and negative, drive the show’s reach and impact.

This case perfectly captures a truth about public perception today: people love the drama. They enjoy being offended, discussing the outrage, and fueling the online debate. And while the critics may claim moral high ground, their outrage becomes free advertising, ultimately benefiting the very person they’re condemning. In Gervais’s own words, “You all played your part.”

Public figures and companies have become the centrepiece of a spectacle where opinions are often decided before the facts are even in. In this environment, facts become inconvenient details, quickly overlooked as people seize on the emotional angle. For those of us in crisis PR, navigating this “court” of public opinion is a complex exercise in strategy—a constant balancing act where a simple statement is rarely enough to satisfy. Instead, it becomes a psychological game, requiring a full grasp of every angle: from media cycles to public sentiment and, most importantly, the emotional undercurrents that drive each narrative.

And then, of course, there’s the nature of cancel culture itself, which is often surprisingly temporary. Outrage flourishes until the next scandal arises, and as quickly as one person or company is cast out, attention shifts elsewhere. People move on, their focus drifting to the next target of the online hive mind. In this game, truth alone won’t cut it; it has to be both accurate and compelling enough to resonate. Because, in the end, public perception isn’t shaped by facts alone—it’s shaped by the story woven around them.