Someone is trying to ruin my reputation online. What can I do?

There’s a particular kind of panic that comes with discovering somebody is saying terrible things about you online. Perhaps it’s a former employee making allegations about your business, somebody you’ve fallen out with posting screenshots of private conversations, or a journalist asking questions about something you thought had been dealt with years ago. Whatever the circumstances, the feeling is often much the same. You want to know who’s seen it, how far it’s spreading, whether it’s going to affect your career and, most urgently, how to make it stop.

I’ve worked in crisis PR and reputation management for years, advising everyone from individuals caught up in online controversies to public figures and businesses facing serious media scrutiny. And one of the things I’ve learnt is that the first few hours of a reputational crisis can be disproportionately important, not necessarily because of what other people are saying, but because of what the person at the centre decides to do about it.

People do some quite extraordinary things when they panic about their reputation. I’ve seen the temptation to publish lengthy statements, threaten legal action, confront journalists, delete entire social media accounts and attempt to personally correct every individual spreading a rumour. Most of these reactions are understandable. Some are also capable of turning a relatively contained problem into a much bigger one.

The difficulty is that a reputation crisis doesn’t come with a particularly helpful set of instructions. If your house is burgled, you know to call the police. If you become unwell, you know to seek medical advice. But if somebody starts spreading accusations about you on TikTok, Reddit or Google, who exactly are you supposed to call? And how do you know whether the situation is genuinely serious or simply feels that way because you’re the person being discussed?

The first thing I would say is that those are two very different questions.

Is my reputation actually being destroyed, or does it just feel that way?

When you’re the subject of negative attention, it’s remarkably difficult to assess the situation objectively. You might spend an entire afternoon reading hostile comments, refreshing your notifications and searching your own name, until it begins to feel as though everybody in the world is talking about you.

But there is an enormous difference between a controversy dominating your personal experience and one that is genuinely reaching the people who matter to your professional or personal reputation.

I always want to know who is actually seeing the information. Is it circulating among a few hundred people in a relatively obscure online community, or has it reached journalists, employers, clients and business partners? Are people simply expressing opinions, or are they taking actions that could have consequences for your livelihood? Is the story growing, or are you repeatedly revisiting a conversation that has already begun to die down?

These distinctions matter enormously. A post with thousands of angry comments might look catastrophic, but if the conversation remains confined to an audience that has never heard of you before and is unlikely to encounter you again, its lasting reputational impact may be relatively limited. Meanwhile, a negative article with far fewer readers could cause considerable damage if it appears prominently when a potential investor searches your name.

This is one of the reasons I dislike treating social media engagement as the definitive measure of a reputational crisis. A million views might sound terrifying, but it doesn’t mean a million people believe the allegations, remember your name or have changed their opinion of you. Equally, a story doesn’t need to go viral to cause serious problems.

What matters is the relationship between the information, the audience and the consequences.

Someone is spreading false accusations about me. Should I respond?

This is probably one of the questions I hear most frequently, and I understand why. If somebody has said something untrue about you, the natural instinct is to correct it. Remaining silent can feel almost unbearable, particularly when you know that other people might be forming opinions based on information you believe is inaccurate.

But responding publicly isn’t always the sensible option.

Imagine somebody with a relatively small social media following publishes an accusation about you. The post receives a modest amount of attention, mostly from people who already follow the account. You become understandably furious and publish a detailed statement to your own audience explaining why the allegation is false.

Suddenly, thousands of people who had never encountered the original accusation know about it. Some go looking for the post. Others share screenshots, discuss your response and begin speculating about what might have happened. You have unintentionally introduced the allegation to people who would otherwise have remained completely unaware of it.

This is one of the more frustrating aspects of crisis communications. Sometimes the very act of defending your reputation can cause further reputational damage.

Of course, there are situations where silence would be completely inappropriate. Serious allegations that are spreading widely, affecting professional relationships or creating genuine misunderstandings may require a clear and carefully prepared response. The important thing is understanding what that response is intended to achieve.

Are you correcting a significant factual inaccuracy? Reassuring customers? Addressing legitimate concerns? Providing information that people need to make an informed judgement?

Or are you simply trying to make yourself feel better by telling everybody your side of the story?

I appreciate that sounds rather unsympathetic, but it’s an important distinction. The emotional relief of publishing a statement can be very short-lived, particularly when the statement generates an entirely new round of criticism.

And once you’ve entered a public argument, it can become surprisingly difficult to leave it.

What if someone is trying to cancel me?

The phrase cancel culture gets used so frequently that it has become almost meaningless. It can describe everything from legitimate criticism of serious misconduct to a relatively minor disagreement that attracts an unreasonable amount of attention.

From a crisis PR perspective, I’m less interested in whether somebody has technically been cancelled and more interested in what is happening to their reputation.

Are people demanding that brands stop working with them? Has an employer been contacted? Are journalists investigating? Is an online community encouraging people to boycott a business? Or is the controversy largely confined to people arguing with one another on social media?

There is also an important psychological element to these situations. Once a group of people has decided that somebody deserves condemnation, the conversation can move surprisingly quickly from criticism of a particular action to judgement of the individual’s entire character.

A person who has made a mistake becomes a bad person. An allegation becomes an established fact. An apology is interpreted as manipulation, while silence is taken as evidence of guilt.

This can create an almost impossible communications environment because every available response is viewed through an existing negative impression.

It’s something I find particularly interesting about online reputation crises. People often assume that providing the correct information will automatically resolve a misunderstanding, but reputations don’t operate entirely on facts. They are also shaped by emotion, existing beliefs, group behaviour and the stories people have already accepted about somebody.

You can correct an inaccurate detail relatively easily. Changing somebody’s deeply established opinion of your character is considerably harder.

That doesn’t mean attempting to rebuild trust is pointless. It means the strategy needs to account for why people believe what they believe, rather than assuming a well-written statement will persuade everybody to reconsider.

A journalist has contacted me about a negative story. What should I do?

A journalist’s email can be one of the most frightening things to receive when you’re already worried about your reputation, particularly if it contains allegations you dispute or questions about something highly personal.

The deadline often makes matters worse. You might be given a few hours to respond to a series of complicated questions about events that happened months or years earlier.

My advice is to avoid replying emotionally, even if the questions feel unfair.

Journalists are entitled to investigate matters of public interest, and being contacted by a reporter doesn’t automatically mean the resulting article will be hostile. But it does mean you need to think carefully about how you communicate.

One of the first things I look at is what the journalist appears to know, what they are asking you to confirm and whether there are important factual inaccuracies in their understanding.

Sometimes a journalist has been provided with only one side of a dispute. Sometimes the information is accurate but missing context. Occasionally, the questions reveal that a story is much further along than the person receiving the email realised.

All of these situations require slightly different approaches.

There may be an opportunity to provide documents, correct misunderstandings or explain circumstances that materially change how the story should be presented. There may also be good reasons to limit what is said publicly, particularly where legal proceedings or confidential information are involved.

I’ve always thought one of the most valuable things a crisis PR adviser can do is help somebody understand the difference between information that genuinely strengthens their position and information they’re simply desperate to share.

People often want to explain absolutely everything. Unfortunately, a lengthy explanation can introduce additional questions, contradictions or details that distract from the central issue.

A good response doesn’t need to answer every possible criticism. It needs to address what matters, accurately and proportionately.

And if a negative article is going to be published regardless, there is still considerable value in preparing for it properly rather than waiting until the headline appears.

Can I remove negative news articles about me from Google?

This is another question that comes up constantly, particularly among business owners, executives and people whose careers depend heavily on their professional reputation.

For many people, the immediate controversy isn’t even their biggest concern. It’s what happens afterwards.

A negative article might receive attention for a few days, but if it appears on the first page of Google when somebody searches your name, it can continue influencing how people perceive you long after the original story has been forgotten.

And the people encountering that article later may know absolutely nothing about the circumstances.

A prospective client might search your name before a meeting. An investor might conduct background research. A potential employer might come across a headline that gives them an entirely different impression of you.

This is why Google reputation management and online reputation repair have become such important parts of modern crisis PR.

However, there is a great deal of misinformation about what can realistically be removed from search results.

If an article contains factual inaccuracies, there may be grounds to approach the publication and request a correction or amendment. If important developments have occurred since publication, it may be possible to provide an update that changes how the original story is understood.

Certain types of content may qualify for removal under applicable laws or Google’s policies, although this depends heavily on the circumstances and jurisdiction.

What you generally cannot do is demand that a legitimate publication removes accurate reporting simply because you dislike how it reflects on you.

Where removal isn’t possible, there are other approaches worth considering. Improving the quality of information associated with your name, developing credible professional content and ensuring that your current work is accurately represented online can all form part of a longer-term reputation strategy.

The objective should be to ensure that somebody researching you encounters a fair and reasonably complete picture, rather than having their entire impression determined by one negative headline.

And I would be extremely cautious of anybody promising guaranteed removal of every damaging article. There are no legitimate shortcuts that work in every situation.

What if the accusations are on Reddit, TikTok or a gossip forum?

One of the biggest mistakes people make is assuming that every platform requires the same approach.

A damaging TikTok video can spread rapidly through reaction content, with people creating their own interpretations of a story they may know very little about. Reddit discussions can develop into extensive collections of allegations, speculation and screenshots. Gossip forums sometimes sustain conversations about individuals for years, repeatedly revisiting old incidents and interpreting new information through an established narrative.

The difficulty is that these conversations often involve people who are not particularly interested in hearing the other side.

I’ve seen situations where somebody is convinced that responding directly to a hostile online community will resolve the problem. They imagine that if they can explain the facts clearly enough, the people discussing them will recognise the misunderstanding and move on.

Sometimes that happens. Frequently, it doesn’t.

Online communities can develop their own assumptions, relationships and shared interpretations of events. A person entering that environment to defend themselves may find that every word is examined for inconsistencies, taken out of context or used to generate further discussion.

That doesn’t mean there are no options. Content involving threats, private information, impersonation or other potential policy violations may be reportable to the platform. False factual allegations may also raise legal questions, depending on the jurisdiction and circumstances.

But negative opinions, however unpleasant, are not automatically unlawful or removable.

The sensible approach is to understand the actual reputational risk before deciding whether engagement, reporting, legal advice or simply leaving the discussion alone is most appropriate.

Sometimes the hardest advice to accept is that you cannot make a group of strangers like you.

Why panic makes people do the worst possible thing

One of the reasons crisis PR is such a specialised area is that reputational threats can interfere with people’s ability to make measured decisions.

When somebody feels publicly attacked, they often experience an overwhelming desire to regain control. That can manifest as repeatedly checking comments, contacting people involved, demanding immediate action or publishing increasingly detailed explanations.

Psychologically, this makes sense. Uncertainty is uncomfortable, particularly when the potential consequences involve your career, relationships or livelihood. Taking action can create a temporary sense of control, even when that action doesn’t meaningfully improve the situation.

The problem is that social media makes impulsive action extraordinarily easy.

You can publish a statement in seconds. You can confront somebody publicly before you’ve had time to establish the facts. You can delete years of content, threaten legal proceedings or send an angry message that ends up being screenshotted and circulated.

And once something is public, you may have very little control over where it goes next.

This is why I often think the first responsibility of a crisis adviser is to introduce some distance between the person’s immediate emotional reaction and the decisions they are about to make.

Not every allegation requires an instant response. Not every hostile comment deserves attention. And not every attempt to defend yourself will improve how other people perceive you.

Sometimes doing less, at least initially, is the more intelligent decision.

What if the allegations are true?

It’s important to acknowledge that not every reputational crisis involves somebody being unfairly targeted.

Sometimes a person has behaved badly. Sometimes a company has made decisions that have genuinely harmed people. And sometimes the public criticism is entirely justified.

In those circumstances, the purpose of crisis PR shouldn’t be to invent a more flattering version of events.

I’ve always found the idea that a publicist’s job is simply to make somebody look good rather reductive. If a client has done something indefensible, pretending otherwise is unlikely to help them in the long term.

There are situations where the most useful advice is to acknowledge what happened, accept responsibility and make meaningful changes.

But even then, the way those decisions are communicated matters.

An apology should reflect a genuine understanding of the issue, rather than simply a desire to end the criticism. Promises should be realistic. Statements should be accurate. And where people have been harmed, their interests shouldn’t become secondary to the organisation’s desire to protect its image.

The public can usually recognise when somebody is more concerned about being caught than about what they have done.

Equally, not every mistake requires a dramatic public statement, and not every controversy can be resolved through an apology.

The response should be proportionate to the behaviour, the harm caused and the people affected.

How long does it take to repair a damaged reputation?

People understandably want a timeframe. They want to know whether the controversy will disappear next week, whether Google results can improve within a month or whether their professional reputation will ever recover.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a universal answer.

Some controversies attract considerable attention for a few days and then disappear almost completely. Others have lasting consequences because the allegations are serious, the coverage is prominent or the individual has genuinely lost the trust of important people.

The audience also makes a difference.

A public figure might experience enormous criticism online while retaining the support of the people who actually follow their work. A relatively unknown business owner might receive very little public attention but suffer significant professional damage because a negative article reaches a small number of important clients.

This is why I think the concept of being cancelled can sometimes be misleading. Public disapproval and professional consequences are not always closely connected.

Reputation recovery is rarely about persuading absolutely everybody to change their mind. That would be an unrealistic objective in almost any situation.

It’s about understanding which relationships and perceptions matter, what has caused the damage and what can reasonably be done to rebuild confidence.

Sometimes that involves correcting misinformation. Sometimes it involves demonstrating changed behaviour. Sometimes it requires a longer-term approach to media coverage, professional positioning and online search results.

And sometimes the most sensible thing is to allow time to pass without repeatedly reopening a controversy that is already losing public interest.

Should I hire a crisis PR firm?

Not every negative review, social media argument or unpleasant online comment requires a crisis PR consultant.

But if you’re facing serious allegations, damaging media coverage, threats to your professional relationships or an online controversy that appears to be escalating, getting independent advice can be enormously valuable.

One of the difficulties with managing your own reputation is that you are emotionally involved in the outcome. You know what happened from your perspective, you know what you intended and you know which details you believe other people are misunderstanding.

But the public doesn’t have access to all of that information, and it won’t necessarily interpret events in the way you expect.

An experienced crisis PR professional should be able to assess the situation from the outside, identify the genuine risks and challenge your assumptions where necessary.

That last part is particularly important.

The job isn’t simply to agree with the client or produce the statement they already want to publish. Sometimes the most valuable advice is explaining why a particular response could make matters worse.

There are also practical considerations. If journalists are involved, somebody needs to manage those enquiries properly. If damaging information is appearing in search results, the available options need to be assessed. If legal issues are involved, communications decisions should be coordinated with appropriate legal advice.

And if a controversy has the potential to become significantly more serious, preparing for that possibility before it happens can make an enormous difference.

I’ve worked with people who contacted me before a story broke and others who waited until they were already receiving hundreds of messages. Both situations can be managed, but having time to think before everybody else begins reacting is an obvious advantage.

What should I do in the first 24 hours?

If you’re reading this because somebody is currently spreading allegations about you, the first thing I would suggest is resisting the urge to respond to absolutely everything.

Start by establishing what has actually been published. Save screenshots, links, relevant messages and any correspondence from journalists. Make sure you understand the specific allegations rather than relying on somebody else’s summary of them.

Then consider the audience. Who has seen the information? Is it spreading? Are journalists involved? Have clients, employers or business partners raised concerns? Are there genuine safety issues, such as threats or the publication of private information?

If somebody has made potentially defamatory allegations, seek appropriate legal advice. If you’re receiving threats or experiencing serious harassment, that may require action beyond crisis communications.

Be particularly careful about contacting the person responsible for the allegations while you’re angry. Messages that feel entirely reasonable in the moment can look very different when shared publicly without context.

I would also avoid making dramatic changes to your social media presence before considering how those changes might be interpreted. Deleting everything, abruptly disappearing or publishing an emotional statement can sometimes create more questions than they answer.

Most importantly, try to distinguish between what you can control and what you cannot.

You cannot force strangers to agree with you. You cannot guarantee that a journalist won’t publish a story. You cannot prevent every negative opinion from appearing online.

But you can control the accuracy of your own communications, the decisions you make in response and the way you conduct yourself while the situation unfolds.

Those things matter considerably more than winning an argument in somebody’s comments section.

Your reputation is bigger than one bad story

Something I regularly remind people of is that a reputation isn’t built from a single article, social media post or public controversy.

It’s formed over time through people’s experiences of you, the information they encounter and the assumptions they develop about your character or professional conduct.

Of course, one serious incident can change those perceptions dramatically. It would be dishonest to suggest otherwise. But the idea that every negative story automatically destroys somebody’s future is equally misleading.

I’ve seen how frightening reputational crises can be for the people experiencing them. The fear isn’t always limited to losing work or receiving criticism. It’s often the feeling that other people are being allowed to define who you are, without your having any meaningful say in the matter.

And I think that’s why these situations provoke such powerful reactions.

But the desire to regain control shouldn’t become the reason you make decisions that cause further damage.

One of the most important things I’ve learnt in this work is that good crisis management often involves resisting the pressure to do something immediately, even when everybody around you is demanding a response.

There will be occasions when you need to speak, apologise, challenge inaccuracies or take decisive action. There will also be occasions when the most sensible decision is to stop feeding a conversation that is unlikely to achieve anything useful.

Knowing the difference is where experience matters.

If you’re facing negative publicity, false accusations or an online reputation crisis and you’re unsure what to do next, you can contact Lauren Beeching, founder of Honest London, for confidential crisis PR advice.

Sometimes a conversation with somebody who isn’t emotionally involved in the situation is the most useful place to start.