Backtracking: A PR Lesson From Airbnb

Have you been following the Airbnb PR disaster unfold? I first started following Airbnb last year when I discovered the site as I was looking for apartments to rent while travelling for business. Great idea, easy to use interface and an honest feel to the site – unlike the thoroughly dodgy HomeAway and other barely cobbled together vacation rental sites which have always left me feeling on my own.

Airbnb promised something different and judging from the investment community pumping in over $100 million and a crazy valuation of $1 billion-plus, others got that feeling too… until a few weeks ago, that is, when Airbnb tried to cover up some rather nasty news about a customer whose home had been violated and ransacked by renters.

Shit happens. A lot. But it’s how you deal with the crap that can turn those, er, negative moments into somewhat better ones. And it’s never a good idea to try covering up a mess – like we’ve seen with the News of the World phone-tapping scandals or when you have a very influential blogger on your tail, and especially if that blogger’s name is Michael Arrington.

Arrington, a man who’s known not to mince words, called Airbnb's response “tepid,” noting how supremely disturbed victim “EJ” was after finding her home ransacked and looted—so much so that she plans on moving. Arrington pointed out the how inadequate Airbnb's policy was, noting that, at the time of the incident, their only FAQ about theft stated: “Grand pianos weigh thousands of pounds and do not fit through doors.”

Things could have gone differently from there. Arrington's post detailing Airbnb PR issues could have been (and should have been) met by a thoughtful company response, updated policies, and detailed reparation information. Yes, Airbnb responded on TechCrunch, rather airily, but that response only materialized due to media pressure and public outcry. It was an attempt - a very late one - to make amends, and their efforts were almost immediately overshadowed by Y Combination founder and Airbnb investor Paul Graham. Graham called Arrington's report “bullshit” and insisted that Airbnb was doing all they could to help the victim—even though it was already weeks later. The name-calling, the hedging, the references to unverified information:this is exactly what taints even the most sincere of PR responses.

Arrington backed up his sources and soldiered on, proving that bloggers with conviction can get companies to change policies, make amends, and tighten up customer response practices. I’m glad to see some good come out of it for the sake of the victim – and future Airbnb customers. It’s still disappointing though that Airbnb never had a crisis management plan in place, particularly for a company whose business model relies on stranger-to-stranger interaction.

Airbnb says that it is “improving” security and service, and that's a no-brainer—they should have been improved before any of this happened. It's true that company missteps provide opportunities to learn, but Airbnb should have known that, statistically speaking, this was in the cards. (Actually, a similar situation had already occurred.)

What Airbnb should improve beyond all security measures next is how even their investors deal with the public. Here's hoping that they take every one of these suggestions seriously.

Oh, and thank you Michael Arrington for making companies like these accountable.

What Went Right for PR and Media Outreach in Norway's Aftermath

No matter how gut-wrenching or shocking the news, PR professionals will always look back and see who handled crises best. It's not just work-related curiosity. By knowing who had an admirable crisis plan in place (and who didn't) and how it worked, we can fine-tune our own. Over the past few weeks, Norway's tragedy has remained lodged in our minds (along with the debt ceiling crisis and News of The World scandals), and it stuck with the easily-distracted press, too. We watched reporters handle interviews admirably in the aftermath, but it feels like much of the media has taken a step back from delving too deeply into the 93 deaths (at last count). Invasive family interviews, harsh criticisms: they simply didn’t have a place here.

Take, for instance, Helen Pidd's piece in The Guardian. She's covered tragedy, heartbreak, and murder the world over, but while in Norway she had an overwhelming sense of guilt for simply being there at all. Pidd traveled to Bardu to speak with the survivors, but when she arrived and was told to keep her distance, that was it pretty much it.

“If I am specifically told to leave the families alone, I won't go near them,” Pidd said in How Should Journalists Talk to Survivors of the Attacks in Norway? “If the police liaison officer hasn't issued a warning, I will take a deep breath and knock on the parents' door once, telling myself that sometimes people want to talk about those they have lost. It doesn't feel good. If they say they don't want to talk, I won't return.”

Pidd saw one of the survivors, and she didn't approach her for an interview. A nurse in Bardu asked her not to attempt contact. Instead, Pidd drove towards the Ice Peak mountains, thinking about all the other times she had pursued survivors for the perfect interview. This time, however, she felt torn between going after her story and leaving the survivors alone – and ended up choosing the latter.

I’d like to think that crisis management in Norway set the tone for coverage, beginning with PM Jens Stoltenberg’s response to the attacks. He showed emotion openly, and with obvious sadness, coupled with the skills of a true orator: “right words at the right time.”

Could it be the time of year, as we edge closer towards the tenth anniversary of 9/11, or the fact that Norway's reputation as peacekeeper and record-setting giver of foreign aid made the attacks even more shocking, pushing us towards a “softer” stance in media response? I think it may be so.