A good way to deliver bad news

Bad news isn't wine - it doesn't improve with age

There's a scene in The Godfather in which mob lawyer Tom Hagen tries to persuade movie mogul Jack Woltz to put Don Corleone's godson in an upcoming film. Woltz screams that he will not be intimidated and orders Hagen out.

Hagen's exit is swift because "Mr Corleone is a man who insists on hearing bad news immediately".

Actually, most of us do. We want the messenger to tell it now and tell it straight. We prefer to hear bad news promptly and from someone we trust.

We could do worse than follow the example of Jeeves, that consummate gentleman's gentleman who is capable of breaking any news with grace, gravitas and good humour.

If we know how we'd prefer it done unto us, we ought to know how to do unto others. So why is it so difficult to get right? And why are organisations often so bad at it?

The fact is people are reluctant to deliver bad news, a tendency psychologists have named the MUM effect (for the tendency to stay Mum about Undesirable Messages). Generally people deliver bad news less frequently than good news. This reluctance means we're less reliable about delivering bad news because we often sugar-coat it or put it off to avoid the unpleasantness. Which brings us to the psychology of the individual. We want others to like us, and fear they will like us less if we bring them bad news.

Not always. Clive James once dedicated a book to the policeman who phoned him late one night because instead of saying: "There's been a car crash but your daughters are both all right," he started the sentence with: "Your daughters are both all right but ..." By delivering the news this way, James wrote, the copper had "saved me from a heart attack and established himself in my mind as the most valuable man I had ever known", because the policeman had thoughtfully said the most important thing first.

In many circumstances it is not the news itself but how it is handled that causes the damage. Here's my advice.

Show your humanity. The worse the news, the more important it is that you deliver it in person. A private, face-to-face meeting, without distractions, is most personal, followed by a phone call. Email trails by a good couple of lengths. Don't even consider text or SMS; these lack decorum and integrity.

Don't put it off. Acting swiftly shows respect, because people would rather get the bad news over with. Being first with the news means you can set the agenda and have some control over the context. And it means you get ahead of the rumour mill.

While you're at it, be open: as Kissinger said to Nixon, "What must ultimately be acknowledged should immediately be acknowledged."

Get it right. Easier said than done sometimes, especially in a crisis when it will be some time before the whole story comes out. But people will make allowances as long as you avoid speculating, make it clear that you don't have all the facts yet and then promptly state what you do know.

If you've screwed up, say so. There are evolutionary reasons why saying sorry works: biologists report that receiving an apology calms our breathing and slows the heart. So get over yourself, push back at the lawyers, and simply say it. But do so only if the apology will be delivered with sincere goodwill. The smug apologies flung about in today's corporate world - "if we've caused any offence (to thin-skinned losers)" - come across as a belligerent teen wanting credit for contrition without any cost.

It's the putting right that counts. Spell out how you'll fix the problem and prevent it from happening again, or at least what the next steps will be.

But avoid clinging to your own comfort. When delivering bad news it's easy to retreat to the firmer footing of process and details. Frankly any move to distance yourself too rapidly from the matter at hand and retreat into administrivia is insulting at best and callously self-serving to boot.

Schedule enough time to prepare and then to gather yourself afterwards. Delivering bad news should feel bad. If you're telling people they are going to lose their jobs, you should feel the weight of it and be mindful that they'll remember the moment for a long time.

You can't make the pain go away but if you deliver the news directly, openly and with respect and consideration the person you tell will be better able to deal with it. And isn't that the whole point?

Sally Raudon teaches a one-day course at The University of Auckland's Centre for Continuing Education. The next one is on Friday October 9.