I’m struggling with the very same problem as my clients: what to say as a communications professional in these times. How to remain relevant and be helpful and genuine and not look opportunistic, naive or insensitive 12 hours from now. How to be myself and add value while finding communication continuity in the chaos.

Dylan’s Tombstone Blues hit me this morning as being spookily applicable as an offering. The verses are frighteningly current. Read them here if you’ve the time.

One probably shouldn’t, but could bastardize the chorus:

Momma’s in the basement, hopes it’s the flu
Daddy’s in the bedroom, the ICU
I’m in the kitchen with the Tombstone Blues

Inane. Shameful. Blasphemous. I know. But if one person listens to the song thinking of our current situation, then I did my part for the day.

This what to say question weighs over us like a 300 lbs barbell and our arms are shaking. In these unprecedented/unpresidented times, the only achievable “business continuity” is to accept a constant state of “business discontinuity,” to develop new processes to work within the chaos and stick to that plan and your identity.

One can only communicate as of today. And today, I’ve chosen to write that words should matter, but the president has made them not matter and that makes it hard for brands to speak because, well, words no longer matter. Brands should stop planning for next month’s or next week’s social post, and contribute to TODAY in ways that help people and are true to who they are. That’s it. That’s my advice. And, oh, listen carefully to Tombstone Blues.

If you’re still with me, a few reminders on why words don’t matter: On January 22, Donald Trump said the problem is “one person from China” and “we’ve got it covered.” On February 2 he told us “We pretty much shut it down coming from China.” On February 26, he said America is “really prepared.” In short, fearing that “the cure is worse than the disease” people should return to the consumer jungle. Or, a contemporary interpretation of Tombstone Blues summarizes all of this for us:

The king of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out to the jungle

More recently, Donald Trump suggested locking down NY, CT and NJ, rifling millions of people into confusion … and then hours later took it back. Easter is then held out there as a beautiful return to normal because “Easter’s a very special day for me.” As a result of that stated optimism, thousands loosen their social distancing, causing additional contagion that likely would have been avoided. Words matter when they come from him.

And, Chloroquine, that “game-changer” showing “very encouraging results” but then, not:

Now, the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
“Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die. It’s not poison.”

These random, morphing communiqués crush stability, reality and any hope for communications continuity for businesses. I’m not trying to hide my beliefs about Donald Trump (clearly), but even politics aside, these reversals of already confusing messages are disruptive, no matter your alliances. 

As such, the old saying—the only constant is change—has never been more true. But not in a mercurial way as with the weather. In this case, the changes are so bizarre they are almost impossible to comprehend. Like, say, rather than being told the sun is yellow, we are told it’s actually chicken:

The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, “Death to all those who would whimper and cry”.
And, dropping a barbell, he points to the sky.
Saying, “The sun’s not yellow, it’s chicken”

We are repeatedly being told such absurdities and thousands share them as fact. Each day brings another feathery anecdote, moment, tweet, “press conference” as surreal as solar poultry. I’ll pluck a fresh one: Mr. Pillow at yesterday’s Rose Garden briefing has obliterated the original meaning of the term “pillow talk.” It’s a surrealistic pillow without grace.

So how do companies communicate within this collapse of fact and reason? When objective truth seems like a dead grandparent? If I had the answer my company would have the cash flow to buy My Pillow, fire the founder and retool the company to manufacture masks (Mr. Pillow’s purported plan). But first, I’d make free T-shirts that read My President went on vacation and all I got was this lousy virus and deliver them to hospitals. Like everything today: funny-not-funny. 

Simply put, we cannot function effectively as communicators in this environment. You can’t fly a kite in a tempest, even though there’s wind; you can’t bake cookies with your house on fire, even though it’s hot. If the government and society are not communicating effectively, brands cannot communicate effectively. The best they can hope to do is survive, a timely metaphor if ever there was one. When clients ask “what should we say on social?” I know my answers fall short because, as knives fail in a gun fight, language fails us when words are meaningless. When Donald Trump says something on camera then berates a journalist for quoting him and responds “I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that!” what are words for, anyway? Add that to a virus that doesn’t heed timelines or borders and you have a communications nightmare.

There’s a classic anecdote within my industry: in helping a brand to identify “who they are” many a “creative workshop” begins with if your brand was a celebrity, who would it be? The humor: pretty much everyone says “Tom Hanks!”

With that as the common aspiration, it’s ironic Tom Hanks was among the first celebrities to contract Covid-19. For brands wanting to know what to say today, Mr. Hanks is a fine model for how to behave. He communicated quickly that he was sick. He did so without fanfare, histrionics or self-pity. He offered hope but not fantasy. Instruction without condescension. Most importantly, he behaved just as we all knew he would. A lesson for brands: know who you are and be that. Don’t try and save the world if you sell submarine sandwiches or tires. Don’t guilt your employees about courage during the pandemic if you sell sneakers (or anything).

The lesson, if there is one: you cannot “plan” what to say on Facebook more than 6 hours out, but you can plan to stay true to what your brand represents, never wavering. And, sure, this advice has been offered throughout the ages. But, this is a new age and a doubling-down is imperative not just for business, but society. Thank you, Unilever, for paying your smaller partners as quickly as possible. Thank you American Hotel and Lodging Association for finding beds for frontline workers. Thank you Ford and GE for seeking solutions to the ventilator shortage. The distilleries making hand sanitizers. Companies who pay their employees during closures. And, above all the healthcare workers risking their lives to save others.

And thank you Bob Dylan for this closing message: 

Tell me great hero and please make it brief,
Is there a hole for me to get sick in?