The calamitous course of history

FOR SEVERAL YEARS IN BETWEEN writing about history and politics, I used to advise companies in Asia about what to reveal — and what to avoid saying — in the event of a corporate crisis.

We would undertake a risk assessment of their business’s vulnerability and identify who in the management structure was responsible for what and whether they could talk authoritatively into a microphone. We advised on which journalists to chum-up to and from which to remain distant.

Most of all, we endeavoured to impress that, come the calamity, the company should tightly restrict who did the talking. The evaluation would end with the unveiling of our “crisis and emergency handbook”.

Generally, these meetings went well. But occasionally when I finally stopped talking there would be a pause as the chief exec replaced his cup of green tea in its saucer,