On Message: Sorry is the hardest word for the BBC

This is how to make a bad situation much worse: you’re already in a hole, so you keep digging.

That is where the BBC finds itself today. Having committed a gross error, for which, seemingly, there could be no excuse, it is on the receiving end of the threat of legal action from Donald Trump. 

Not for the first time, it goes to show that the aftermath, if handled badly, can have greater ramifications than the actual incident. Sometimes, there is a cover-up and you need only say ‘Watergate’ to know where that can lead. Or it is sheer ineptitude or structural inertia. It can be any individually or a combination. Here it appears to be one, two and three.

It’s a lesson the BBC has failed to heed before, most notably with the recent Huw Edwards affair but also down the years with Jimmy Savile, Martin Bashir and numerous other scandals. 

For a media organisation, that should be well-versed in fast decision-making and communicating, the corporation is lacking. It’s as if suffocation always takes hold when something untoward occurs.

One of the worst people in the world to inflame is the American president. Poke him and he is riled. The only way to deal with him is to flatter and ingratiate, and if you’re found to be at fault, to instantly and profusely apologise. 

It is true, the BBC chief executive, Tim Davie and head of news, Deborah Turness, have quit. But only many months after the deliberate splicing of Trump’s address which made it seem he told his supporters to go to the Capitol and ‘fight’, when he said no such thing, not in that context anyway, was spotted.

Having realised what Panorama, its flagship news programme, had aired, the BBC appears to have wished no one would complain, that the episode would go away. When that didn’t happen, after an external adviser was appointed to examine news output and they duly highlighted the Trump speech, even then they did not leap into action.

Instead, the blunder was allowed to fester. When, finally, the news broke, with the leaking of the adviser’s report, they were still slow to act.

Eventually when it came, the BBC chair’s description as an ‘error of judgment’ appeared understated. It was not enough – certainly not for Trump.

He has cause to be angry. Trump has been wronged. Yet BBC supporters and colleagues of Davie and Turness are loudly proclaiming there was a plot to undermine them. Whatever has gone on within the upper reaches of the BBC and is going on, Trump merits recognition that he has been traduced. That crucially he is not seeing – he did not see it when he should have done, when the editing was realised and he is not seeing it today. 

It is no surprise then that he is reaching for his lawyers. Some might say that having secured the heads of Davie and Turness, he should leave it. But he feels more is required - he wants a retraction and a full apology and compensation - and he is entitled to his opinion.

How much better would it have been if the BBC had straightaway said ‘sorry’ and meant it. Yes, it would have been embarrassing, but nothing like as desperate as the current, unfolding drama.

Management should have realised this. It’s strange how this failure occurs, but also familiar. The reluctance to apologise is not unique to the BBC. Too often, we’ve witnessed corporates and other bodies being slow to put their hands up. 

Possibly, they are in receipt of legal advice, which may be to avoid being seen to accept liability. But there are two courts – one is of the law; the other is of public opinion. In this instance, because of how the BBC has behaved, there is a chance the legal forum may yet be called upon. This, having already lost heavily in the eyes of the public.

The warning here is simple: if you commit a mistake, own up quickly. As soon as the Trump clip was shown to be false, there should have been a ringing, unprompted mea culpa. That never occurred. Rather, there has been a drawn-out procedure, which has given the impression of the BBC wishing to avoid anything than actually admit to what it did. It’s taken the voluntary departures of two chiefs to bring the issue to a head, to prompt the letter from the chair to the president, and that is wrong. Even yesterday Davie’s final speech to staff also hit the wrong note, talking about the work of the BBC speaking “louder than any newspaper, any weaponisation”. Not exactly full of contrition.

Strong leadership is as much about defence as attack. Good leaders know when to retreat. A mistake frequently made is to suppose that the media and public will demand blood. You would be surprised. They can be forgiving; they screw up as well. Apologising immediately most likely takes the wind out of their sails, the story will cease to have ‘legs’, it may be over in a flash. They will have little to write about or to demand. You are able to regroup and to move on. 

Allowing it to drag out is fatal. What began as one lapse has the ability to turn into an existential threat. The reputational damage can be enormous. Bite the bullet, eat humble pie, all those things, and be seen to believe in what you’re saying, and you live to fight another day. If you don’t, what may have been one story becomes a multitude; one day’s coverage spills into many. Look at the BBC.