Who to hire when you’re being cancelled
It usually starts quietly. A vague comment. A few strange DMs. Then someone you haven’t spoken to in five years sends that classic text, "Hey, just saw this, just wanted to check in." Of course, they’re not really checking in. They’re dying for the gossip.
Your name is circulating. People are speculating. The tone has changed.
Maybe a brand has just emailed to "pause the partnership" while they "monitor the conversation." Maybe someone you trusted, an ex, a friend, an opportunist, is now sharing deeply private information that has absolutely no place in the public domain (this happens more than you’d think). Something you once said in confidence is now reappearing in a tweet with zero context, twisted just enough to make you look unrecognisable.
And now, you’re here. Googling things like who to hire when being cancelled, crisis PR expert, or how to fix my reputation online, while your phone lights up with half-concerned, half-curious messages.
Whether you’re an influencer, public figure, founder or just someone caught in a viral moment, the rules are the same. What you do next matters more than anything you’ve done so far.
Here’s what you actually need, and what working with the right person looks like.
Most publicists and traditional PR firms aren’t built for this
Here’s the part most people don’t realise until it’s too late: traditional PR doesn’t cover this kind of crisis.
If you reach out to a regular PR firm in the middle of a cancellation, they’ll likely be well-meaning, and often genuinely want to help, but they’re not trained for this specific type of damage control. Their expertise lies in building visibility, not in pulling you out of a reputational freefall.
And I say this with full respect for the industry, but more often than not, when I’m brought in, it’s because someone’s existing PR team has already made things worse. They’ve jumped in with good intentions, rushing out a statement, contacting media, sometimes even trying to spin a redemptive press angle, but they haven’t properly researched what’s actually being said, how it’s spreading, or who’s behind it. They’re working from instinct, not evidence.
They don’t understand how quickly misinformation morphs online, or how triggering the wrong phrase can reignite a dying situation. Many don’t know how to request press takedowns or edits effectively, or how to work behind the scenes to influence platforms and journalists quietly, without fanning the flames.
And if your PR firm is publicly boasting that they’re "handling the situation" or signing off their name in statements as a badge of honour, I’ll be blunt, they don’t understand crisis PR. The work isn’t about their reputation, it’s about protecting yours.
This isn’t about throwing anyone under the bus. It’s just a different skillset. Traditional PR is structured, public and campaign-led. Crisis PR is quiet, reactive, deeply strategic, and tailored to nuance, not headlines.
If you're being cancelled, you're not in a campaign. You're in a live fire situation, and you need someone who knows how to handle that.
Don’t take strategy advice from friends or family
This one is difficult, because it always comes from a place of love, but your friends and family are not crisis experts, even if they’re smart, supportive or media-savvy.
They’ll likely tell you to “speak your truth,” “put something out quickly,” or “just be honest and people will understand.” But cancel culture doesn’t work that way. It’s not a rational court. It’s a reactive, emotional space driven by algorithms, outrage and ambiguity. What feels like a reasonable explanation to you might actually make the situation far worse.
I’ve had plenty of nightmare situations involving clients' friends, but one stands out. I had put together a highly structured, thoroughly researched strategy, one I genuinely believed would not only calm the situation, but help the client grow from it and build a stronger, more resilient long-term career.
Then came the dreaded, “my friends think…”
To make matters worse, this client was surrounded by a friendship group that, being transparent, lived in a bit of a fantasy world. They were lovely people, but ideologically insulated, incredibly socially performative, and naive to how things actually work outside their PC bubble. The kind of group who share every awful news story to their Instagram stories and think that alone is activism. The kind who believe silence is complicity, and anyone who doesn’t loudly echo their worldview must be part of the problem. Their opinion isn’t just valid, it’s the only one allowed… To paint the picture.
My client reassured me that their closest friend, who they really trusted, was “super smart.” But the moment this friend saw the plan, he tore it apart. There were no real reasons, just vague comments like “this won’t work” and “this is really not the right way.” In reality, it didn’t align with his own personal moral framework. He wasn’t thinking strategically, he was thinking about how he would personally want someone to apologise, which had absolutely nothing to do with the wider public climate or the actual risks involved.
The client listened to him. We didn’t go with my plan. Within weeks, they lost several brand partnerships, their podcast disappeared quietly, and key industry contacts stopped replying. Because nothing was resolved properly, the situation just lingered. No one wanted to be the first to work with them again, and the career they had built slowly stalled out.
It still frustrates me, because I genuinely believe they would have grown, redefined the situation, and had a solid career by now if they had followed the strategy. It wasn’t that they truly believed their friend’s advice was better, it was the pressure. When the people closest to you are confident and vocal, it’s hard not to doubt yourself. I had already prepared the client for exactly what would happen if we took that route. Unfortunately, I was right. But they followed it anyway.
And this is the truth, your friends and family don’t have the software we invest heavily in, the tools that scan the entire internet and track exactly what’s being said, where, and how it’s spreading. They’re not looking at the data. They’re not seeing the impact patterns. They’re reacting based on feelings, not facts.
Take emotional support from them, absolutely. But don’t hand them your strategy. That needs to come from someone who actually understands what’s at stake.
Cancel culture doesn’t play fair, so you have to play smart
One of the worst parts of being cancelled is how unfair it can feel. The loudest voices often have the least context. The story gets flattened, then warped. There’s no room for nuance, no time for clarification.
Screenshots are edited. Private messages get shared out of context. Even your silence gets analysed.
And just when you think it can’t get more surreal, someone from your past, an ex, a former friend, a business partner, suddenly finds an audience for details they were never meant to share. It’s deeply inappropriate, but it happens more than you’d think. And it can damage you in ways you’re not prepared for.
And yes, if you happen to be a straight, white man, the consequences are often even more brutal. That’s not an opinion, it’s an observable pattern. The internet doesn’t just look at what was done, it looks at who did it. If you sit in a socially privileged identity, the takedown is often faster, less forgiving, and significantly more loaded. You become the placeholder for a broader rage, and the nuance of your situation disappears completely.
When you’re a public person, the attacks don’t just come from strangers. They come from exes, from fans, from people you once considered friends, and yes, even from those closest to you. I’ve dealt with full-blown, real-life Wagatha Christie moments, where a client’s own inner circle quietly sold their Instagram “Close Friends” Stories to the press. People you’ve laughed with, cried with, flown on holiday with. You are not as safe as you think.
If you’re the public figure in a relationship and your partner isn’t, the moment the breakup happens, it can trigger something else entirely. Sometimes a war begins, driven by the desire to stay relevant or to claim control of the narrative. I see it every week. It’s dark, it’s calculated, and it often blindsides people who thought loyalty would protect them.
That’s why experience matters. A proper crisis PR expert will not only help you respond to public narratives, they’ll help manage what’s happening behind the scenes too, legally, emotionally and reputationally.
This isn’t just about appearances. It’s about survival.
What I Actually Do, and Why It Works
I specialise in digital crisis PR, which means when someone searches your name, I look at what comes up, and I work to change that. I focus on the digital footprint. The press. The forums. The TikToks. The Instagram reels. The Reddit threads. What’s being said, where the anger is, how it’s growing, and how to get it under control.
Can I get the noise down? Can I correct or quietly remove articles? Can I strategically put out the actual truth of the situation in a way people will engage with, without adding fuel to the fire? That’s the core of the work. Every case requires a different strategy, but the objective never changes: control the narrative quickly, intelligently, and permanently.
There are no default apologies here. I won’t tell you to post a statement unless you’re fully guilty and there is absolutely no other option. Because once you apologise, you’ve admitted. And sometimes, that’s the worst thing you can do. My job is to know when to speak, when not to, and how to keep control of your narrative in a way that’s subtle, strategic and doesn’t make things worse.
Privacy, Always
Some of my work is forensic. Some of it is emotional. Most of it is a mix of legal strategy, media management, platform monitoring and quiet negotiation. No grand gestures, no performance, just deeply considered, confidential support from someone who’s seen this play out a hundred different ways.
I don’t post my clients. I don’t name-drop. I don’t use your crisis to raise my own profile. You won’t see my name shouted about online, but you definitely know about many of the cases I've quietly fixed, along with millions of others, they just don’t realise it was me behind the scenes. I actually find it quite entertaining. There’s nothing more riveting than being at a dinner with friends who are unknowingly slagging off one of my clients, only for them all to be fans again six months later.
The majority of my clients come to me quietly, through word of mouth. They’ve been recommended by someone else who knows what I do, and they trust that it will be handled without theatre.
You don’t need to follow me on Instagram. Can you believe some PR contracts actually include that? No forced selfies with me for LinkedIn. No cringey photos of us mid-latte pretending to brainstorm. No shouting me out in an Instagram Story or tag me in a statement. I don’t need a pat on the back. Just private Zoom calls, meetings at a Soho House, or even at your home if that’s where you feel comfortable. This isn’t about boosting my ego. It’s about getting your life back.
What To Do If You’re Being Cancelled
I did a guide here, but a quick summary:
Log out immediately. Even one emotional post can escalate things further
Document everything. Screenshots, emails, messages. Save it all
Don’t respond to everything. Silence isn’t always guilt, sometimes it’s restraint
Speak to someone who actually understands crisis PR. Not a manager who’s panicking, not a friend giving emotional advice. You need strategy, not sympathy
It’s Not Over, But It Could Be, Without the Right Help
Being cancelled is overwhelming. It’s destabilising. It makes you question everything, including who you can trust and whether your version of the truth even matters anymore.
But you don’t have to figure it out alone. Most cancellations feel final in the moment, but they’re not. They’re turning points.
If you’re in the middle of a cancellation right now, or you can feel one coming, I work with people like you every day. Quietly. Intelligently. Strategically.
Get in touch confidentially here: