History taught us the phrase “... a date which will live in infamy.” For the meat industry, that day was Dec. 23, 2003.

After witnessing the devastation BSE wreaked in Great Britain, meat industry leaders felt strong confidence in the U.S.’s “triple firewall strategy” and there was some hope that painstaking preparedness might actually be over preparedness. After so long without BSE in North America’s herd, might we fully escape the disease? But we didn’t, and that means the 20^th anniversary of the first BSE case in the U.S. is approaching later this month.

That fateful December day was a lesson in fundamental laws of crisis management: Crises never happen when you expect them or when they are convenient.

USDA identified the first case in a “downer” cow in Yakima, Wash., during routine surveillance. Confirmation prompted a late day press conference Dec. 23, just as key stakeholders and spokespeople were heading out for holidays, some already gone. I was the lead spokesperson at the American Meat Institute at that time, and with schools closed, I had taken the day off and was bowling with my young boys. Soon I noticed that my first-generation Blackberry was buzzing wildly as then-AMI CEO J. Patrick Boyle and then-Foundation President Jim Hodges sent multiple messages in capital letters: CALL THE OFFICE, with a follow up that said, “CALL THE DAMNED OFFICE.” They were non-specific messages, but I knew something very bad must be happening.

Six months earlier, Canada had detected is first BSE case, prompting U.S. industry organizations to update crisis plans and fact sheets as we began communicating with reporters about a host of issues, like effective surveillance and the risks of neurological tissues versus muscle tissue. Canada’s reverberated into our integrated North American beef system and offered us a bit of dress rehearsal for understanding the customer and communications impacts and trade and supply chain disruptions we’d face.

When our own case hit, a frenzy of media coverage ensued, and the case was dubbed “the cow that stole Christmas.” We triaged the calls that came in, starting with inquiries from the major wire services and top-tier outlets and working our way through requests from less impactful media. Spokespeople from the National Cattleman’s Beef Association, the American Meat Institute and other groups leveraged every opportunity talk to media throughout the holidays. I hosted NBC News at my home Christmas Day, showcasing the beef tenderloin I was cooking.

Industry and government spokespeople stood shoulder to shoulder in the initial response, communicating consistent messages about beef safety and the effectiveness of U.S. surveillance. Agriculture Secretary Ann Veneman was unflappable and reassuring and USDA spokesperson Alisa Harrison, formerly with NCBA, was an experienced media relations pro who knew her way around the U.S. cattle herd. When we disagreed with the government, we knew better than to take those views to the press for that would only risk consumer confidence.

Not surprisingly, soon after news broke, international customers ceased imports of U.S. beef and we quickly strategized how to restore international confidence. At the time, we couldn’t imagine that it would take years to restore.

In December 2003 and the early part of 2004, the coverage we received felt unprecedented. We were challenged to keep up with the volume of interest, and the mailboxes on our flip phones filled rapidly. We monitored coverage and requested corrections where we saw errors. We briefed reporters by phone, and we will held phone briefings to provide updates. While we weren’t thrilled to have this news break, we were fortunate that skilled agriculture reporters led the coverage. We also became accustomed to seeing clips of a stumbling British cow used to represent the U.S. case on broadcast news reports.

But there was an important tool we didn’t have at our disposal — or our peril: social media. Twitter wouldn’t start for 13 years and Facebook was 11 years off. Web sites were a relatively recent development. I was lucky to be armed with a Blackberry.

With time and sustained effort, we adjusted to our new normal as a country with BSE. Over time, news faded, so did consumer concern, with many consumers viewing beef eating as a patriotic duty. To this day, no case of variant-Creutzfeldt Jakob Disease has been linked to U.S. or Canadian beef consumption.

Imagine for a moment if our first case of BSE had been detected in 2012, just nine years later. That year, an unidentified photo of a bubble gum colored substance emerging from a long pipe and dubbed “pink slime” went viral on social media, helped along by ABC News, Jamie Oliver and other media outlets and bloggers.

In that case, we rushed to get accurate photos and video to compete with these images and misinformation, but the tweets were out of the bag and no senior editors or ombudsman governs bloggers and “X-perts” on the platform formerly called Twitter. Plants closed down, people were laid off and the industry was held by a network with a story that was setting its web site and ratings on fire.

As much as we wanted to prevent BSE in the U.S., we are fortunate that it occurred in what now seems like an antiquated media landscape. While BSE will never be “big news” again, something else will be, and it’s essential that we reconcile ourselves to the possibility of the threat we least expect. Even if we have a plan, as we did in 2003, the crisis won’t happen when we’re ready or when it’s convenient. It never does.

The speed and visual nature of our new media landscape mean we must prepare as never before for the visual-driven communications combat we could be called upon to deploy. Crisis preparedness has always been important, but today, it needs to be conducted as routinely as turning the lights on every days.

On Dec. 23, remember to pause for a moment. Consider where you were on that day in 2003 and the feelings that news of the first case caused for you. Remember the strength the industry showed and be proud that every crisis we’ve faced collectively has made our industry stronger and wiser. Let’s put that wisdom to use in 2024 by asking ourselves honestly: Are we ready for the next big thing?

How now, Mad Cow?

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