Speak Like a Bear

I am fascinated with bears.  The bear is my spirit animal.  Bears are normally shy animals that have very little desire to interact with humans.  However, if their space is invaded, they are quick to defend and can be aggressive.  Our spirit animals, or totems, can guide us and protect us.  If you don’t know yours, there are many quizzes online that can help you find out.  I have met many people who believe that their spirit animal is a dog or a cat.  But I think it goes deeper and different than that bond.  Without a quiz, I think each person’s spirit animal is one that they feel drawn to but can’t explain why.   There is an innate connection.  I have felt that with bears since a young age.

And in adulthood, the bond has become tighter due to memorable life moments.   Many years ago, I visited my sister Jenny at her home in the Poconos.   One morning I went for a long run along rural roads.  After about ten miles I was running back towards her home.  I was running on the left side of the road, against traffic (if there was any).  I saw something move slightly across the road and up ahead of me.  Once I had focused, I saw it was a grown black bear sitting on the edge of the right side of the road, about twenty yards ahead.  I was running slow at this point, but my mind was racing.   Should I turn around and go back the way I came?  Should I become still?   And my inner voice was screaming at me to not stare at the bear.  But I did stare.  And I kept slowly running forward.  When I came abreast of him, only separated by the narrow country road, our eyes remain locked on each other.  As I finally passed, I continued my run back to Jenny’s house, never looking back.  I was at complete peace and knew I was safe.

On another occasion, I was living alone and flipping channels on the TV.  I came across a documentary that was just starting on PBS that promised no commercial interruptions.  It was a random moment with a remote.  I am typically not a fan of documentaries (I know, shame on me).  And since the remote in those days could not pause a movie, I was pretty sure I would want a snack or to go to the bathroom before the movie would be over.   But then the title came on the screen, “Grizzly Man,” directed by Werner Herzog.  This special version included bonus footage and interviews, resulting in more than three full hours uninterrupted.   I set the remote on the table and watched.  Other than my mouth half open, I don’t think I flinched for the entire show.  Credits were rolling up, and I still could not move.  I was spellbound.  

Lastly, I had the opportunity as a soldier to get a ride on a Black Hawk helicopter in Alaska as we were learning about drug interdiction missions.  At one point the pilot exclaimed over the headphones, “Wow, take a look at that!”  As he spoke, he rotated the helicopter on the left side, my side, facing the stream not far below.  I was belted in and secure, but there were no doors.  I looked right below me, and God as my witness, I saw a massive Brown Bear in the stream, scoop up a salmon in his paw, lift it up, and stare at me (or the helicopter) in defiance.  Again, my eyes locked eyes with a bear.  To this day, it was the most amazing visual I have ever encountered. 

I have shared those experience many times verbally, but I have never written them down.  While thrilling and deeply memorable, they are but a backdrop to the greatest lesson I learned from bears.   They have an unrivaled balance, a yin and a yang, between shy and aggressive, or mild and bold, or what I have coined over the years, a natural balance between humility and bravado.  I have learned to bring a similar balance into risk and crisis communications.

In my experience, most communicators tend to be one or the other.  It is also natural that we have a comfort zone for our behavior.  And in life, I don’t think there is anything particularly wrong with being primarily humble or bold.  But each have a price to pay.  

From 2004 until 2012, Fox aired a drama show called “House.”  The main character, Dr. Gregory House, was bold, brash, and full of bravado.  Everyone respected him, but few people liked him.   His one friend was the character Dr. James Wilson.  Everyone liked Dr. Wilson, but they did not truly respect him in the way they did Dr. House.  They were the yin to the other’s yang.

In crisis communications, either of those singular traits in a communicator is a problem.   Communicators that are meek, mild, and shy can get bulldozed by a reporter.  Conversely, coming across too bold or appearing arrogant can offend and put people off. 

Balance is the key, and it is often dictated by the question.  For example:

Reporter:  Are you all in charge of this response and recovery?

Bear:   Actually, we are just one part of a big team, local, state, federal, voluntary organizations, working together to help survivors. [Humility]

Reporter:  Where have you all been?  We are hearing that you have not accomplished anything in the last few days.  Is this just another example of bureaucracy?

Bear:  Actually, we were on the ground with our partners before the storm, we are here today, and we will be here tomorrow and every day until the community recovers.   We have 150 people deployed, provided $1.5 million in support, and we have assisted 341 survivors so far at our recovery center.  Your news station can be part of the solution by sharing our information and keeping survivors informed. [Bravado]

It is a nuanced balance, requires subtlety, and a few examples will not suffice.  It is essential to be self-aware and to know the tendencies of each member of the team.  Some will need to soften; others will need to build their courage and confidence.  Both tools are necessary in the crisis communications toolbox.  It takes time to change.  I begin by asking each member or my team which way they think they lean, then I offer my honest assessment, and we work to bring them towards the middle, capable of executing both styles.  For what it is worth, I have seen this balance work well as a customer, an athlete, and even in personal relationships.  

Proceed with caution.  Spoiler alert – things didn’t turn out very well for the guy in “Grizzly Man.”

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