Table of Contents
In a study of Alan Greenspan’s rhetorical leadership, Bligh and Hess (2007:98) state:
It is entirely possible that in a post-crisis situation characterised by tremendous uncertainty, no prior cases or precedents to examine, or previous experiences to draw upon, leaders grapple with not only how to make sense of a situation but also how to frame the situation when they themselves may not have a firm grasp of what it means for the future.
Precisely this predicament—how to engage in persuasive public meaning making when your own backstage sense making is continuing and problematic—has been faced by the leaders studied in this volume. It formed the core of the interest with which this study began.
How do leaders resolve this predicament? It depends. Crisis communication scholars tell us that
leadership can have a positive or negative impact on the development of a crisis. Leadership can be a positive force by helping to frame the meaning of a crisis event, expressing appropriate concern and support, overseeing mitigation, coordinating support, and facilitating timely, open communication. In many cases, however, crisis leadership is characterised by strategies minimising harm, denying responsibility, and shifting the blame (Seeger et al. 2003:241).
The crisis exploitation model presented in Chapter 2 and used by the case study authors to interpret the verbal behaviour of the chief economic policymakers of nine polities offers some ideas about why crisis leadership can evolve in one way or another. Put in Clausewitzian terms, it claims that crises constitute the continuation of politics as usual by other means. When extraordinary events occur, continuing struggles for political ascendancy do not cease; they can intensify. The same goes for continuing debates about public policy, which can be jolted in one way or another by the challenges crises pose to the resilience of existing governance ideas and practices.
When the unexpected happens, public leaders become the focus of intense attention. In a context of uncertainty and stress, they have to act on the public stage—to talk sensibly, to steer people’s beliefs and emotions, to project authority. They have to do so, however, in the knowledge that the very occurrence of a crisis puts them under intense scrutiny. Their past and their present performances will be judged in a new light. The political price of a slip of the tongue, bad timing or clumsy dramaturgy can be considerable—for government leaders and their chief rivals alike. There are, however, also considerable gains to be achieved from capturing the public’s ear and gaining its support for one’s portrayal of the crisis and the ways in which it could best be managed.
It was in this high-stakes, mixed-motive context that the leaders studied here talked about the economic catastrophe that was unfolding before their and our eyes. Some might have felt overwhelmingly threatened by the crisis, whereas others might rather have sensed the opportunities it presented to them. Some were good at reading the writing on the wall and did not hold back in depicting the depth of the problems. Others were keen to keep the wolves at bay by projecting optimism. Some were keen to publicly justify their past policy stances; others focused on using the crisis to leverage policy change. In this chapter, we reflect on what these studies can teach us about the nature, use and limits of rhetoric in taming and exploiting crises.