What trust repair actually looks like in practice.
Quick note: this is Part 2 of a two-part series. Part 1 was the diagnosis. Part 2 is what to do about it.
Part 1 made the argument that some leaders treat unwanted scrutiny as an image problem. They dismiss critics, assume bad faith, and hand the whole thing to communications to clean up: tighten the message, line up the spokesperson, and push harder.
Trust problems don’t work that way. When trust is the issue, the public wants proof that leadership is willing to change. That’s the work. The rest is packaging.
The question leadership avoids is the one that matters
Before you ask, “What should we say?” ask something harder: what are people reacting to that we’re not seeing clearly? Sometimes the answer is obvious. Other times it’s a pattern the organization has normalized over time: inconsistent standards, avoidable secrecy, a lack of honest self-evaluation and listening, weak oversight, or treating legitimate questions like attacks.
Loss of trust rarely comes from one event. It comes from patterns. Enough moments stack up and the lesson is: These people can’t be trusted. It explains why reputation crises can linger: instead of correcting a misunderstanding, you’re trying to change someone’s mind.
“Friendly” messaging can make backlash worse
Organizations under pressure often try to soften the tone. The instinct is to reassure, calm, and “humanize.” Sometimes that works. But when the public is reacting to what it believes is harmful behavior, a warmer voice can backfire. It can feel like calculation. It can feel like the organization is trying to manage emotions instead of dealing with substance. That’s how “PR” becomes a punchline, because people hate feeling manipulated.
The best crisis communicators I’ve worked with aren’t obsessed with sounding friendly. They’re obsessed with sounding real. They use plain language. They acknowledge facts. They avoid corporate mumbo jumbo. They focus on credibility. Trust is not something you can talk your way into. It has to be earned.
What trust repair looks like in practice
Trust repair isn’t complicated, but it does require discipline. When it’s done well, it follows a fairly consistent pattern, and the steps are surprisingly actionable.
- Name the real issue in plain language. If you can’t say what happened without euphemisms, people assume you’re hiding. Say what happened, what you know right now, and what you’re still working to confirm. “We’re aware of the situation” doesn’t build trust; it signals fear.
- Separate facts from intent. Facts are what happened and what you know. Intent is what you’re working to do about it. When you’re clear about both, you stop sounding defensive and start sounding accountable.
- Make one visible change quickly. Trust rebuilds because people see evidence that you’ve learned and are changing. It doesn’t need to be a grand reform on day one, but it does need to be real. It could be a pause in a tactic, a new protocol, a tightened standard, added oversight, or a leadership shift. If people can’t point to a concrete change, they assume you’re riding it out.
- Communicate on cadence rather than impulse. Random updates feel like chaos and silence creates a vacuum others will fill. Predictability feels like leadership. Even if the update is basically, “No change since yesterday; here’s what we’re still working through,” that rhythm reduces anxiety because it signals presence and discipline instead of hope-and-pray.
- Close the loop publicly. Closure is part of trust repair. What changed? What did you learn? What will be different next time? If you skip this step, the natural conclusion is that you survived the moment and plan to return to business as usual.
What it sounds like when you’re doing it right
This is where leadership teams can stumble, because the wrong version doesn’t sound bad in the room. It sounds safe. It sounds professional. It sounds cautious. It just doesn’t sound believable. The public is not asking for a perfect statement. They’re listening for signs that leadership understands the moment and is willing to change course.
If your statement is basically, “We take this seriously and remain committed to our values,” it might be defensible, but it doesn’t give anyone something to hold onto. A trust response sounds more like: “Here’s what happened. Here’s what we know right now. Here’s what we’re doing today. Here’s what changes next.”
The goal isn’t to win the argument. It’s to show you’re not resisting reality.
Three sentences leaders should get comfortable saying
A lot of trust repair comes down to being willing to say a few simple things out loud. Not as theater. As leadership.
- “We were wrong about this.” Not “mistakes were made.” Not “we regret any confusion.”
- "Here’s what we’re changing, starting now.” Not “we’re evaluating.” Changing.
- “Here’s when you’ll hear from us again.” Trust is predictability as much as it is morality.
I have yet to meet an attorney or corporate counsel who’s fully comfortable with language this blunt. I welcome that input. But leadership requires weighing legal exposure against the cost of distrust, which is often larger and longer-lasting.
Bottom line
If you have a trust problem, you need to do two things at the same time. First, fix the underlying behavior or policy. That’s the part leaders want to skip because it’s slow and messy. It’s training. Oversight. Accountability. Operational change. Clear standards. Real consequences.
Second, communicate like a real person who understands the moment. That means clarity and predictability. It means saying what you know, what you don’t, what happens next, and when people will hear from you again. It means acknowledging the obvious without turning every sentence into legal armor.
Events in Minnesota illustrate what happens when leadership reacts to scrutiny as a threat instead of trying to understand and address the concerns driving it, a pattern that shows up far beyond this moment. Trust is not a campaign. Trust results from behavior. If the organization with a trust problem keeps doing the same things while hoping better PR will change minds, the problem is bound to fester.
Daniel Keeney, founder of DPK Public Relations, works with leaders who need to explain complicated things simply and handle tough questions without sounding scripted. He’s spent the last over three decades coaching executives through high-pressure interviews, crises, and moments when every word matters.