WHEN A CLUB SHOWS ITS OWNER THE RED CARD

In the carnage that followed incendiary comments by Sir Jim Ratcliffe, co-owner of Manchester United, a relatively rare phenomenon occurred in the world of crisis communications.

Ratcliffe’s remarks that the UK has been ‘colonised,’ alongside inaccurate immigration statistics, fuelled a huge and very public backlash, dragging the club squarely into the storm. Less importantly (except perhaps for United fans), Ratcliffe’s interview with Sky News risked derailing a Manchester United team which – at long last – seems finally to be finding fragile form. The swift chorus of condemnation of Ratcliffe’s attack on immigrants and people receiving state support included criticism from the Prime Minister, the Chancellor Rachel Reeves and the mayor of Greater Manchester, Andy Burnham. Given the need for political buy-in for the club’s plans to build a new stadium, the Monaco-residing billionaire CEO of INEOS appears to have scored a hat-trick of own goals.

The most unusual and consequential of these was that Ratcliffe’s own club felt it necessary to issue a statement distancing itself from his comments, pointedly emphasising the difference between its own values and ethos and those that Ratcliffe expressed, even without naming him directly.

Manchester United’s statement, published a lengthy 23 hours after the comments surfaced, reiterated its commitment to being ‘an inclusive and welcoming club’ and reasserted its credentials in diversity, equity and inclusion in both Manchester and in the wider football ecosystem. The message was clear: Ratcliffe’s name may be on the door but he doesn’t represent who we are.

The process of drafting the statement would likely have required some tense, high-level and hastily-convened internal discussions. The fact it took so long to publish probably reflects an initial ‘wait and watch’ approach in the (ultimately fruitless) hope that the story might fade away rather than escalate as it did, coupled with a reluctance from the Board to reveal the reality of a clearly dis-United club in respect of its co-owner’s controversial opinions.

What tipped the balance will have been the strength of feeling of its stakeholders, always the defining factor in determining the breadth and depth of any crisis.

While some of those views – such as those of United’s various fan groups – received extensive coverage, it seems more likely that it would have been behind-the-scenes anxiety from the club’s sponsors and commercial partners that will have cut through to the Board. Perhaps it was only the potential for financial losses incurred by prematurely-terminated partnerships - and the ongoing challenge of securing sponsors in the first place - that ultimately forced United’s hand. This may also have precipitated Ratcliffe’s subsequent and heavily-caveated apology.

But let’s rewind a little. As the communications team at Manchester United scrambled to craft a response to a situation that they surely hadn’t anticipated, I pictured one or two other corporate communications teams watching from afar with a sense of schadenfreude.

For example, on the other side of Manchester – just next door to United’s blue rivals at the Etihad Stadium –the press team at Tesla UK may well have been reflecting on trouble caused by their own figurehead. Elon Musk’s embracing of Trump’s political agenda and his amplification of the far-right on X continues to cause significant customer backlash, especially in European markets. Unlike United - and despite a host of economically-prudent reasons to do so - Tesla has stayed silent on the issues (although interestingly the company did concede that, along with economic uncertainty, “changing political sentiment” could have a “meaningful impact on demand” for its products).

Somewhat further from Old Trafford, I imagine a similar shudder passing through the comms floor at yoga-clothing brand Lululemon. They’ve had their own ‘moments’ courtesy of Chip Wilson, the founder‑turned‑shareholder who periodically resurfaces to criticise the company’s ‘whole diversity and inclusion thing’ and deride the people in its campaigns as ‘unhealthy’ or ‘not inspirational’. Faced with remarks so fundamentally misaligned with the brand it has become, Lululemon issued an unequivocal statement making clear that Wilson ‘does not speak for Lululemon’ and that his comments don’t reflect its values. It also reminded the world that he hasn’t had any operational role since 2015, a polite but pointed way of saying that while he may still hold shares, he no longer shapes what the company stands for.

It’s possible that Sir Jim Ratcliffe will have expected his comments to reflect nothing more than his own personal views, or - at a stretch - the position of his company INEOS on Government policy. The problem is that views stop being personal the moment they collide with the values, priorities, expectations and commercial realities of the institution you lead. Whether he realises or likes it or not, Ratcliffe is seen as representing the world’s most iconic football team; his employees have certainly learnt this the hard way.