There’s a wonderful episode of The Bob Newhart Show – sadly, no YouTube link – in which Newhart, as psychologist Robert Hartley, agrees to do a live TV interview about his profession. Initially the show’s host puts him at ease with a shy demeanor. But when the camera comes on, she attacks him as a “snake-oil salesman,” blasts his hourly rate and gets him to admit he had a politician as a patient.

Watching Newhart’s character try to gut his way through the interview is as hilarious as it is uncomfortable. His mistakes are many – one hopes he hires a good media trainer next time – but the fact that he sticks it out is a point in his favor.

I wouldn’t say there’s never a good reason to cut out during an agreed-upon interview, but it should be an exceedingly rare step. Walking away means abandoning the chance to speak for yourself while handing that opportunity to others.

Two real-life examples happened in recent days, and on both sides of the camera.

The first example took place on the UK’s Sky News, when the British Broadcasting Corp.’s acting director-general, Tim Davies, walked away from a live interview after fielding questions about former BBC head George Entwistle. Entwistle exited after less than two months on the job, but with a hefty payout, as part of an exec sweep at the Beeb following allegations of child sexual abuse by one of its news hosts. Davies seemed surprised by the grilling – he shouldn’t have been – and bailed with the excuse, “I’ve got a lot to do.”

The second instance occurred during an interview on Fox News. While discussing the September consulate attack in Benghazi, Libya, author and military expert Thomas Ricks surprised anchor Jon Scott by criticizing Fox News’ coverage of the attack and accusing the network of “operating as a wing of the Republican Party.” Scott immediately ended the interview. Ricks claimed he’d warned Fox staffers what he would say; even if he didn’t, his track record of prickly interviews should have been fair warning.

In the wake of these TV cliffhangers, the dialogue has fallen to other media and media pundits – often without involving the actual players. Davies lost his opportunity to express empathy for the victims and explain how the BBC was cleaning house. Scott received a wide-open invitation to address common assumptions about Fox News, and his response was to go to commercial.

These folks now face a decidedly uphill battle to regain credibility and a meaningful in the discussion. Far better if they’d been professional, prepared and on message – or lacking that, if they’d simply declined to do the interviews in the first place.

That’s a valuable lesson in media relations.

"What if you found a portal to a parallel universe? What if you could slide to a thousand different worlds, where it’s the same year, and you’re the same person, but everything else is different? And what if you can’t find your way home?" – Opening monologue to the TV series Sliders.

Sci-fi television viewers in the ‘90s hungry for something other than Star Trek sometimes tuned in to FOX-TV's Sliders. In the series, college genius Quinn Mallory (Jerry O’Connell) develops a means to travel to parallel Earths. He and his friends Wade Wells (Sabrina Lloyd), Professor Maximilian Arturo (John Rhys-Davies) and Motown singer Rembrandt Brown (Cleavant Derricks) “slide” from universe to universe, facing everything from a Soviet America to modern-day dinosaurs to a lottery that requires more than just cashing in your ticket.

The show had its highs and lows – sometimes very, very low – but each of the Sliders offers insights we can apply to crisis communications. Here are four points to consider:

1.       “We have a plan. We just don’t know what it is yet.” - Quinn Mallory

Crisis situations rarely follow a script. Preparation and flexibility are key. Having a basic communication framework in place is the best starting point. Be clear on the common elements of any crisis: likely audiences, basic messages, who needs to be involved and when, and what resources you can deploy quickly. Test that framework regularly, but be careful not to create so many scenarios and processes that you can’t choose one when the real crisis hits. If you get the basics right, practice and adapt, the rest will follow.

2.       “You bet on a game that you don’t understand? You’re an idiot.” - Wade Welles

Crisis communications done by the seat of the pants is a recipe for failure. While the Sliders often took risks with little knowledge of their predicament, communicators can’t afford that dangerous luxury. Understanding the business, the dynamics of the crisis and the tools at hand are critical elements. At the same time, honest and accurate information must be shared quickly to the right people in the most appropriate way. Guessing is never a wise strategy for communicators; it’s disastrous in a crisis.

3.       “It’s ironic, isn’t it, at the time of our greatest danger, to be deprived of the comforts of platitude and self-deception.” - Professor Maximilian Arturo

Communication that’s accurate, quick, informative and empathetic will help bolster your organization’s post-crisis reputation. But that goes only as far as your communication and business practices before the crisis. Companies that are arrogant, secretive and insular during good times shouldn’t be surprised when they aren’t trusted during the bad times. Building trust is an ongoing process of interaction, integrity, respect and transparency. Resting on faded laurels, or laurels that aren’t really there, will allow even a well-handled crisis to make things worse.

4.       “Platform shoes! What the devil were we thinking?” - Rembrandt “Cryin’ Man” Brown

Communicators have lots of bandwagons to jump on. This new process or that new social medium gets added to the mix, and soon there are more vehicles for communication than people can handle. It’s important for communicators to evaluate each new tool carefully, always with an eye on what works best for the audience. That also means weighing the value of what’s worked in the past. A print piece might be old-fashioned, but if it’s the most effective way to reach a certain group, why not use it? At the same time, don’t hang onto an outmoded approach just for nostalgia’s sake.

Sliders ended before its cast made it home. With the right preparation and commitment, that need not be the fate of communicators facing a crisis.

If Abigael Evans were here, I might join her in a good cry.

The four-year-old Colorado cutie got her 15 minutes of fame this week when her mother posted a video on YouTube showing a distraught Abigael, clad in Hello Kitty wear, weeping over the endless presidential election. (By the way, this prompted a great bit from NPR, which apologized for upsetting the young lass and used it to prompt online dialogue about the campaign’s rancor.)

Children are remarkably sensitive to emotional discord among adults. So maybe, just maybe, Abigael’s lament will prompt a bit of social introspection. We can hope, anyway. But somehow I doubt it.

Accusations, insinuations and plain old partisan rage are long-time staples of American elections:

• The election of 1800 is still considered the dirtiest, with John Adams’ supporters calling Thomas Jefferson an atheist and a cowardly draft dodger while Jefferson’s supporters accused Adams of importing London prostitutes. Each side predicted the demise of the United States if the other won, and the lengthy turmoil over the Electoral College was a dangerous moment for the young nation. Yet the vote eventually settled in Jefferson’s favor, marking a peaceful transfer of power largely unprecedented in human history.

• During the 1824 and 1828 presidential battles between Andrew Jackson and John Quincy Adams featured accusations of adultery, aristocratic ambitions and the promoting of cock fights and horse races. (The horror!)

• The pivotal election of 1860, which brought Abraham Lincoln to the White House, saw Republicans accusing Democrats of being the enemies of God and man, while Democrats warned that a Lincoln presidency would lead to mandatory interracial marriage.
• In 1898, white supremacists in Wilmington, N.C., tried to intimidate voters and dissuade black involvement. When the city elected a bi-racial council anyway, the protesters led an armed rebellion to overthrow the council—the only successful coup d’etat in American history.

Compared to these and other examples, the bemoanings of who built what, binders of women and even hanging chads seem remarkably tame.

Still, there’s a marked difference today: the Internet. With 1.7 billion people online worldwide, that’s a lot of people with a digital pulpit. Some of them use it as a bully one.

As a regular user of Facebook, I’m appalled by the lack of civil discourse on the Newsfeed. Candidates are regularly referred to as “LIARS” (all uppercase makes it more true, apparently), their supporters as “IDIOTS” and both earn terms not safe for work. (Of note is the prevalence of a slang term that joins the English for chapeau with a particular orifice.)

Equally troubling is the lack of respect for individuals who have achieved or aspire to elected office. I may strongly disagree with the decisions of a George W. Bush or a Barack Obama – I’m trying to be non-partisan here – but I respect the office of President and the fact that the person was elected to it. I owe that individual my support as the leader of the nation and respect as a human being just as I owe him the honesty of my perspective, including my choice in the voting booth, when our views don’t align.

Political communicators can be tempted to encourage flame wars. I think that’s a mistake. They should insist upon a higher standard. Negative campaigns tend to generate greater voter turnout, but the end doesn’t justify the means. Voters will continue to be discouraged, and meaningful issues will be lost in the morass of vulgarities and puerile memes.

Hand me a tissue, Abigael; 2016 is only four years away.