Crisis rarely arrives with a calendar invite. One moment, everything appears stable; the next moment, the system shakes, screens light up, and someone asks, “How did this happen?” Professionally and personally, a crisis is not an anomaly. It is part of life’s operating system. You don’t opt in. You are auto-enrolled. Jab Sab Theek Lag Raha Tha, Tabhi Toh Gadbad Hui. A crisis happened when everything was working so smoothly.
Some crises are, of course, genuine, unexpected acts of fate. An aircraft incident. A regulatory shock. A data breach despite robust safeguards. These are real crises. They are untimely, unanticipated, and unavoidable.

But in marketing, a disturbingly large number of crises are self-created. There are carefully ignored warning signs. Misread public sentiment and overconfidence disguised as strategy. It allows an otherwise manageable situation, a predictable issue, to become a crisis. And that is not bad luck. It is a failure. Often managerial. Sometimes cultural. Frequently ego-driven. More often, believing no one will notice, or we will manage.
As Osho once observed, “Life already gives enough problems; the ego enjoys creating a few more.” Brands seem to take this as a challenge. They manufacture crises through selective hearing, overconfidence in brand equity, and the dangerous belief that scale equals immunity. Kuch nahi hoga (nothing will happen) has quietly killed more reputations than competitors ever could.
Most crises follow a familiar script. A misunderstanding of the situation. A misreading of one’s own position of power or relevance. An alarmingly inaccurate scenario buildup where internal optimism replaces external reality. Add to it arrogance, the belief that consumers will “move on” and what you have is a crisis recipe ready for launch.
And then comes the moment that matters. Not the crisis itself, but how it is handled.
Because crises, by themselves, do not kill brands. Mishandling them does.
Take Maggi. When the 2-minute noodles that fed generations faced a credibility crisis, the issue was not just compliance; it was trust. Nestlé stumbled initially but eventually responded with transparency and visible corrective action. The comeback was not built on intent statements but on proof. Consumers didn’t return because of advertising; they returned because the tone of the apology rebuilt confidence, brick by brick.
Pepsi has had its share of brand crises globally, often triggered by tone-deaf communication. Kendall Jenner’s ad, Philippines ‘Number Forever’ Jackpot or ‘Where is my jet- lawsuit. KFC UK had the “Chicken-less” Crisis, and they went FCK. Bumble- anti-celibacy ad, which stated ‘Celibacy is not the answer’, and some as silly as Jaguar’s rebranding. Nearer home- Zomato celebrating faster delivery not taking care of the safety and well-being of the riders, FabIndia “Jashn-e-Riwaaz”, Cadbury India “Worm” Crisis, Samsung: Galaxy Note 7 Battery Fires, Kento RO- Maid ad, Tata Nono, the cheapest car positioning or even Urban Company well thought out Minute Miad crisis.
The lesson is clear: when a brand trivialises public emotion or overestimates its cultural role, backlash follows swiftly.
Apologies work only when they sound human. When they sound engineered, they fail. In a crisis, sincerity cannot be outsourced.
IndiGo, often celebrated for operational discipline, recently faced self-created turbulence. The consumer appreciated the On-time performance and never complained about the thin seats or the list of services that required payment. They knew what they were getting into and willingly accepted it all. The expectations were rightly set. However, all hell broke loose when the flights got cancelled– a result of overconfidence, arrogance and a ‘will manage’ attitude.
Acknowledgement came too late. The front team was deserted by leadership. No one knew what to do, and brand confidence eroded. The explanation was unclear, and the bold “SORRY” ad, without explanation, conveyed more arrogance. It did not focus on resolution. All actions came after the horrifying experiences were amplified in the media and after the Government pushed Indigo. The response was slow.
Jo hua, uska zimma lo. Take responsibility for what happened. A single act changes the entire tone of a crisis.
Air India – in the Government Avatar became a long-running case study of how unresolved issues compound reputational damage. For years, crises were not singular events but recurring reminders. The real problem was not the incidents; it was the gap between communication and action. The intent was announced, but the experience didn’t change. Only when sustained, visible operational shifts followed the Tata takeover did public perception begin to soften. It will take a long time to recover.
Crisis recovery is not a press release. It is a pattern of behaviour.
Then there is Astronomer, cited for handling a sudden Coldplay reputational storm with maturity. The response was fast, direct, and unambiguous. There was ownership, not obfuscation. Action followed communication, not the other way around. They didn’t overexplain, nor did they underplay. They understood that in crisis, silence invites speculation, and arrogance invites backlash.
Osho once said, “Truth is not something you declare; it is something you live.” In crisis management, this distinction is everything. Statements of intent are easy. Demonstrated change is hard. Consumers can tell the difference instantly.
The fundamentals of crisis management are painfully simple:
Respond fast. Silence creates its own narrative, and it is never favourable.
Respond honestly. Half-truths expire quickly in the age of screenshots.
Respond humbly. Arrogance in crisis is reputational suicide.
And most importantly, respond with action. Show what changed. Show what was fixed and show how accountability.
Because while human memory is short and getting shorter, emotional memories and scars linger. People may forget the exact details of a crisis, but they remember how a brand made them feel: respected or dismissed, reassured or gaslit.
Crisis ke baad hi asli pehchaan hoti hai ( Not like haar ke Baad jeet). The real identity emerges after a crisis. Anyone can perform in stable, secure, and predictable non-chaotic conditions.
It is during disruption that leadership, culture, and values are exposed.
Ultimately, a crisis is inevitable. Mismanagement is optional.
And Osho keeps reminding us that awareness could have prevented half the damage. The rest is simply life testing how prepared you really were.
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