Schmupeter writes:  Thanks to the digital revolution, chief executives now live in glass houses. An ill-judged remark can be broadcast to the world in an instant. An unwise “reply all” can provide sensitive information to a competitor. An exasperated complaint in the midst of a crisis can seal your doom. Tony Hayward, who was boss of BP during the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, never recovered from his plea that “I want my life back”.The digital revolution has dramatically shifted the balance of power from companies to their critics. Although big firms deploy armies of PR flacks, anyone with a smartphone and a socialmedia account now has the same power to reach a global audience. Whistleblowers once had to photocopy documents and smuggle them out in their underpants. Now they can be shared with the world in a trice, by e-mail or instant messaging.

By contrast, companies have failed to adapt. The biggest of businesses with the slickest of publicity operations, from McDonald’s to JPMorgan Chase, British Gas to Qantas, have found that when they tried engaging with tweeters on their home turf, they were drowned in a sea of sarcasm. British Gas’s attempt at an online discussion about its price rises was met with a barrage of tweets mentioning “death” and “greed”. Presumably they will get better eventually. But in “Glass Jaw: A Manifesto for Defending Fragile Reputations in an Age of Instant Scandal”, Eric Dezenhall, an American crisis-management consultant, points to two big reasons why companies are condemned to play catch-up.

The first is the nature of the internet. It is a beast that feeds on scandal and particularly delights in the flesh of the powerful and privileged.

The second is the nature of companies. They are designed to stay in business rather than to be good at defending their bosses from scandal. No matter what PR resources they throw at killing a story, NGOs and prosecutors will always have more stamina. In America no sensible firm will risk gambling on a jury trial when a negative verdict could bar them from doing business with the government.

The best defence in this age of instant global scandal may be  to be brilliant at your job. A couple of years after the crisis that almost destroyed his career, Tiger Woods was chosen for a Nike advertising campaign with the slogan, “Winning takes care of everything”. Unfortunately, for CEOs it may not: if you are an ace golfer mired in personal scandal you can redeem yourself on the greens. But a boss brought down by a baying social-media mob does not always get a second chance.