Mark Zuckerberg\u2019s frenetic media tour this week missed the mark. Though the honesty was refreshing, Facebook\u2019s CEO hasn\u2019t done anything to reassure the social network\u2019s 1.4 billion users that they\u2019re being protected from nefarious advertisers, campaigners and app developers \u2013 like, you know, right now.\nZuckerberg needs to grab a page from the playbook of James Burke, the CEO of Johnson & Johnson, who navigated the company through the Tylenol crisis 35 years ago, when someone laced with cyanide bottles of the pain reliever on store shelves in the Chicago area.\nAt the time, no one knew whether the poisonings occurred at the factory, during distribution or in retail. Rather than wait, Burke ordered a total recall of Tylenol, costing the company hundreds of millions of dollars. And before Tylenol shipped again, J&J unveiled a multi-pronged tamper-resistant system that has become the standard for locking down every consumable from aspirin to orange juice. His quick action and candor has made Burke the subject of case studies at business and communications schools.\nIn his media interviews, Zuckerberg achieved half what Burke did. He was candid. But he fell down on the quick action part. In fact, he as much as told the press that he still doesn\u2019t have a handle on all that\u2019s happened, nor how his company will fix it.\nIn other words, we\u2019re likely still exposed to apps and campaigns built on the psychographic models that were used to manipulate the 2016 election, and who knows what else. Burke never would have allowed that. He would have started by ripping all apps from the social network. Then he\u2019d set out to rebuild from scratch the system that dictates what those apps can do and see.\nThat\u2019s exactly what Zuckerberg needs to do. Until the company understands the extent of the damage, he can\u2019t leave us vulnerable.\nNo doubt, that would be an expensive undertaking. But not so expensive, I suspect, as allowing this crisis of trust to continue.\nAlready, the crisis has eroded our relationship with Facebook. Count me among the countless who soured on the social media platform during the years-long deluge of angry, baseless rants. And the changes Facebook enacted since last fall to clamp down on viral inanities have mostly served to mute any reason to return. When I glance at Facebook these days, the friends and relatives whose posts I\u2019m accustomed to seeing \u2013 that I enjoyed seeing \u2013 have mostly vanished from my feed.\nI suspect we\u2019ll soon see that the loss of 700,000 users in the US and Canada last quarter was not a one-time occurrence, as Facebook has argued. I just don\u2019t see how this too-little-too-late effort to return us to the good-old days of Facebook will work. Indeed, there can be no return. Because it\u2019s not just Facebook that\u2019s changed. We\u2019ve been changing along with it.\nIn that sense, Zuckerberg\u2019s challenge is far weightier than Burke\u2019s ever was. After the Tylenol crisis, the pain reliever delivered the same experience as it had before. That\u2019s not possible for Zuckerberg.\nWe\u2019re not the innocent, na\u00efve and wide-eyed users who flocked to Facebook to reconnect with long-lost friends and distant relatives. We\u2019re more jaundiced and distrustful now. We\u2019ve had our online don\u2019t-take-candy-from-strangers lesson.\nBut Zuckerberg can cross that bridge when he comes to it. Right now, he\u2019s only got one job: clean the platform of anything that could potentially violate our trust. And he\u2019s got to keep those apps off the shelves, so to speak, until he can show us that they\u2019re tamper-proof. So to speak.\nIf not, Zuckerberg\u2019s Tylenol Moment could devolve into the counter to Burke\u2019s: a case study for how not to handle a crisis of trust.