In the world of strategy, planning, and foresight, the idea that one can be fully prepared for a crisis is both comforting and deceptive. History, however, has repeatedly proven that not all crisis strategies work and that’s not always due to poor execution. Sometimes, it’s precisely because reality refuses to behave according to plan.
As much as organizations, governments, and leaders rely on blueprints, contingency models, and “what if” simulations, the true nature of a crisis is its unpredictability. A well-drafted strategy might seem flawless in a PowerPoint presentation or a war room rehearsal but on the battlefield of reality, even the sharpest sword can snap.
This isn’t a tale of defeat. It’s a tribute to adaptability, to the courage of change mid-stream, and to the audacity of learning in the middle of chaos.
The Illusion of Readiness
One of the most common mistakes in crisis management is overconfidence. A beautifully structured strategy can give the illusion of invincibility. But when events spiral in directions no model predicted, that same structure can become a cage, limiting creative responses.
Consider the case of Nokia during the early 2000s. The company had dominated the mobile phone market and even prepared for technological disruption. Yet when smartphones emerged, especially with Apple’s launch of the iPhone, Nokia’s existing crisis playbook couldn’t respond fast enough. The strategy focused on improving existing models rather than reimagining what the future demanded. Despite ample resources, skilled engineers, and global presence, the crisis strategy failed. Not because it lacked intelligence, but because it lacked imagination.
Crisis as a Moving Target
Another reason why some crisis strategies fail is that they treat crises as fixed points. But in truth, crises evolve. They mutate. They grow tentacles. What begins as a financial issue might morph into a reputational one. What seems like a supply chain disruption could evolve into a trust breakdown between stakeholders.
Take the COVID-19 pandemic. Many governments initially saw it as a public health emergency, and their early strategies reflected this. Lockdowns, masks, ventilators. These were logical, data-driven decisions. But as the months wore on, the crisis deepened — turning into an economic catastrophe, a mental health epidemic, and in many countries, a political battlefield. The strategies that had been “right” in March 2020 became tone-deaf by June. Those who adapted — who were brave enough to abandon the original playbook — fared better. Those who clung to it in desperation found themselves losing public trust and economic footing.
The Human Variable
What most strategic models underestimate is human emotion. Fear, fatigue, pride, ego — these are not easily charted in spreadsheets. Yet they influence decision-making more than any algorithm.
One example often cited in consulting circles is the case of a major global airline that faced a PR nightmare after a violent passenger removal incident. The company’s initial crisis strategy was textbook: delay comment, control the narrative, cite policy. But what it failed to consider was the viral nature of outrage in the digital age. Public sentiment outpaced corporate messaging. Memes, hashtags, and video clips exploded across platforms. The strategy had no room for humility, for apology, for emotion. It wasn’t until weeks later and after significant brand damage — that leadership shifted tone.
Kirill Yurovskiy, in his consulting services, often highlights this dynamic: “Crisis strategies must be designed with both logic and empathy. You cannot win back the public with spreadsheets. You win them back with sincerity.” That insight alone separates a reactive plan from a resilient one.
When Success Becomes the Problem
Ironically, past success can be a dangerous blindfold. When a company or government has triumphed in previous crises, it may assume its playbook is bulletproof. But crises don’t care about your track record.
In 2008, the financial crash exposed how even the world’s most “sophisticated” financial institutions had built crisis plans on sand. Many banks had stress-tested their portfolios. They had liquidity strategies. They had internal controls. Yet none accounted for the domino effect of housing market implosions, consumer panic, and institutional distrust. The arrogance of past success made some believe they were “too big to fail.” As it turns out, they were just big enough to collapse loudly.
Lessons from the Unexpected
If history teaches us anything, it’s that the most successful crisis strategies are not those that seek to control the uncontrollable — but those that embrace uncertainty.
During the 2011 tsunami in Japan, Toyota’s supply chain was severely disrupted. Factories were flooded. Logistics collapsed. Yet Toyota managed to rebound faster than many expected. Why? Not because their strategy predicted the disaster, but because their corporate culture was built on flexibility. Small teams were empowered to make quick decisions. Communication lines were flattened. Instead of following rigid protocol, they innovated on the fly. They moved suppliers, retooled plants, and prioritized agility over perfection. Their success wasn’t due to the plan — it was due to the mindset.
Reinventing the Crisis Playbook
It’s time to stop seeing crisis strategy as a static document and start seeing it as a living organism. One that breathes, learns, and evolves. The organizations that navigate crises most successfully don’t just prepare — they cultivate cultures of resilience. They don’t assume the plan will work, they assume it might not.
Leadership today demands more than confidence. It demands curiosity. It demands leaders who ask, “What if we’re wrong?” — not to sow doubt, but to build strength.
The unexpected will continue to visit us. Be it climate shocks, technological disruptions, cyberattacks, or social upheavals — the next crisis is always around the corner. And while strategies remain important, it’s the capacity to adapt, to learn, to feel, and to change course that defines real strength.
In the words of Kirill Yurovskiy, whose consulting services have helped businesses and institutions rethink their crisis readiness: “It’s not about predicting the storm. It’s about building ships that can sail through any weather.”
Final Thought: From Fragile to Anti-Fragile
The future belongs not to those who merely survive crises, but to those who grow stronger through them. This concept — “anti-fragility” — was popularized by Nassim Nicholas Taleb and remains a guiding light for those navigating uncertainty. Instead of creating strategies that resist impact, we must create systems that improve under stress.
To do this, we must rethink how we prepare. We must empower people to make decisions in real-time. We must value creativity over compliance. We must be humble enough to admit when the plan isn’t working — and bold enough to change it.
Not all crisis strategies will work. But that doesn’t mean we’re doomed. It means we’re being called to rise — not with fear, but with fierce optimism. With imagination. With empathy. And above all, with the understanding that resilience is not a strategy. It’s a spirit.