In 1996, Lance Armstrong, the now-disgraced pro cyclist, was diagnosed with testicular cancer.
Only 25 years old when he found out he had cancer, Armstrong chose to focus on being a survivor, not a victim. During his personal battle with cancer, he soon realized there was a
critical lack of resources for individuals facing this disease. He decided to start a foundation devoted to helping others manage their lives on the cancer journey. Since 1998, the Livestrong
Foundation has served millions of people affected by cancer. But in October 2012, everything turned upside down for the organization. That’s when the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency released its
report that "concluded once and for all that Lance Armstrong, the cancer charity’s founder and hairman, was guilty of doping during his legendary cycling career."
Doug Ulman, CEO and president of the Livestrong Foundation at the time, said he remembers that day clearly. In fact, he had anticipated for months that this day would come. As good
friends, Ulman had believed Armstrong’s statements of innocence over the years. But now, "there was no more hiding." After the news broke, Ulman called a meeting of every one of the
foundation’s 100-person staff, all squeezing into the foundation’s boardroom. There, shoulder to shoulder and crammed together, the suspicions and tingling uncertainties all of a sudden became
all too real. When Ulman announced that the organization could no longer "defend" its founder, it was a defining, watershed moment. Livestrong, the once highflying charity which had raised
half a billion dollars over the years, was now facing a crisis—maybe even a life-or death crisis— of its own. Now, Livestrong would be operating in "life without Lance" mode.
Although it might be tempting to write off Livestrong as a hopeless case, Ulman and the rest of Livestrong’s staff have worked hard to keep the foundation viable and focused on its purpose.
It’s not to ignore the challenges facing the Crisis Planning at Livestrong Foundation organization, because those challenges are significant. But in managing through the crisis,
Ulman had to keep staff morale up and make plans to transform and distance itself from Mr.Armstrong. One piece of advice he received from a crisis communications firm was to take the
opportunity to get the foundation’s message out. Like many of the cancer sufferers it helps, Livestrong wanted to come out on the other side stronger than ever. It’s not been easy. The
foundation has lost some of its biggest sponsors, including Nike and RadioShack. Revenues fell in 2012 and 2013. But in addition to his "crisis management" responsibilities, Ulman has been
formulating plans and strategies. He says, "It’s so ironic—we are in the business of survivorship, that’s what we do. Now we find ourselves dealing with the same circumstances in a totally
different place."
A new phase in Livestrong’s history began in early 2015. The foundation’s Board of Directors announced a new president and CEO, Chandini Portteus. She comes to Livestrong from Susan G. Komen, the most widely known, largest, and best funded breast cancer organization in the United States. With her extensive knowledge and skills in fundraising, global programming, and advocacy, Livestrong has an individual well-versed in the challenges of leading this organization
into the future.
What lessons about planning can managers learn from what Livestrong has endured?