Volume Does Not Equal Value

“We have to get in front of them again.”

“We need more people in this meeting.”

“They really need to hear this from a lot of people.”

“Say it louder.”

These are a few of my least favorite lines to hear from advocacy organizations. Even though they’re not always wrong.

There are absolutely times in politics and advocacy when a show of numbers – a groundswell of force – makes a difference. There are moments – usually fleeting – when mobilizing a lot of people makes an impact. But I believe those moments are too few and far between for you to rely on them for the issues that matter most to you.

As cathartic as it can be to find yourself surrounded by the crowd of energetic voices all singing the same tune, all too often it accomplishes little more than if you were standing alone screaming into the void. Our job as advocates is to do better. We owe it to our cause to think differently about what moves the needle.

And it’s not more volume.

No, what moves the needle in politics is the same as what moves the needle in so many areas of our lives: adding value. Need to convince someone to buy a product? Show the value it adds to their life. Need to bring someone into your faith community? Demonstrate the value your faith adds to life. Want someone to give you their time so they’ll consume your content? Value. Value. Value.

And the unspoken reality of politics is that, regardless of the depictions we see in the media, decision makers everywhere need the same thing – credible voices who add value to the debate. Not folks looking to make a scene. You do that by showing how your solutions, your causes, connect to what matters most to them and helps forge a path where consensus can be built.

Practically, this requires us to look at our issue from different perspectives (e.g. both major parties at a minimum) and determine what aspects of the proposal would matter more two who. Connecting our issues to their priorities forces us away from a one-size-fits-all strategy when it comes to communicating our solutions. That activity alone helps us humanize both the complex nature of our issues AND the people we’ll be engaging on the topic – in the same exercise.

As I’m writing this week’s post, Capitol Hill is reeling from a series of body blows. A rough week of negotiating to prevent a possible government shutdown. Only to be followed by internecine conflict within the majority party. Leading into what promises to be a dramatic fight for the Speaker’s gavel in the US House of Representatives. But all of that is ephemera.

On Instagram today, a commenter went back to one of my old videos – made during the high drama of the rounds of voting that ultimately led to now former Speaker McCarthy’s selection. They asked if I still thought that there was value in people telling their story – in sticking to this kind of mindset. If you have read any of my pieces here before, there’s a good chance you know the answer: hell yes.

The latest from Capitol Hill is just a different flavor of the week. Regardless of all that frenetic activity, advocates are charged with taking their message to elected officials and helping them understand – and care about – solutions to real problems. You don’t achieve that goal by getting distracted by, or adding to, the cacophony you’ll here in DC right now. You do it by distilling difficult topics down to actionable asks.

I know, because I just had a few of my own asks advance – even just a little bit – in the midst of all this drama.

Effective advocates stick to the strategies I help teach, and they keep showing up. Because it’s not our job to play on the partisan field that moments like the last few weeks provide. Our job is to play our game, control what we can control, and find ways to make it easier for the players to move our agenda forward.

That’s why this week, I want you to think about the causes you champion. How do you talk about them? Do you focus solely on what you can control? Take a moment and place your issue – and your ideas – in the context of your target. Are they more concerned about other issues right now? Well, how can your proposal fit their needs in this moment and in the unknown moments to come? How can your stance help advance what matters most to them?

It’s not comfortable to do this. We want our issue to be top of mind. But the reality is we rarely, if ever, are. Being better in this space means understanding that screaming about our issue doesn’t make it more valuable to someone else. But aligning our issue to their interests can. That’s how we add value, not volume.

And those two are simply not equal.

Can You Find a Way to “Like” Your Opposition?

Have you heard of Vanessa Van Edwards?

Before I really started diving into podcasts, I can tell you I’d never heard of her or her work before. But this past weekend, she was a main stage speaker at a major personal & professional development experience held right here in central Ohio. And even though I’d been exposed to her work through one of my favorite podcasts, hearing her live brought her insights home to me in the world of advocacy even more.

In her remarks, Van Edwards pointed to research that showed an important trend in human relationships: the most popular, most liked people also happen to be the people who like the most people. If you were to catalogue their rolodexes, those with the biggest social reach are finding ways identify what they like in as many people as possible.

But her comments had me asking a question: does this hold for politics? I’ve been chewing on the topic since she left the stage.

In the four years after I switched to non-partisan advocacy work, I’ve often jokingly referred to myself as a “recovering partisan hack.” While working for elected officials, it’s hard to avoid the tug toward the extreme. Because our system lends itself to conflict, it’s not hard to constantly be finding, exploiting, and also disdaining the weaknesses and shortcomings of anyone on the other side of the aisle. We form our camps, and anyone outside the camp – the tribe – just can’t be redeemed. Right?

That kind of thinking won’t get you very far outside of the partisan squabbling. Unfortunately, I see a lot of advocates – individuals and organizations – falling into the familiar traps of partisan thinking and finding themselves stuck when it comes to taking their issues to decision makers. They can’t get out of their own way because they struggle to set their own partisanship aside.

But our job of advocates isn’t to win just the people who already agree with us. Our purpose is to bring others into the fold, inviting them into the cause and building credibility for our issue that spans partisan divides. Whether we like it or not, bi-partisanship works. More importantly, when navigating the hyper-partisan environment, it’s absolutely vital if you’re going to secure policy that stands the test of time.

So how do we do it? How do we build in the habits necessary to help us look past party affiliation, avoid the inevitable friction that it brings, and grow our reach? Well, Van Edwards’ work would point us to as clear an answer as any. But are you up to it?

One of the greatest gifts of stepping away from electoral politics is the opportunity to simply not give a damn about someone’s party. It’s given me more chances to find ways to like more people. I’m having just as much fun partnering with one party as the other now. It’s been such a valuable addition to my life, that I’ve often talked to advocates about this – and now we can back it up!

You see, as I prepare advocates to go to Capitol Hill or the state legislators, one topic almost always comes up. It usually sounds something like this: “how do I talk to (insert politician from the other party)? I don’t agree with them on ANYTHING.” Up until now, I’ve found my way stumbling through a heartstrings argument with folks – that we win more people over by treating them well. And I stand by that.

But now I have a new challenge for you. Can you set aside all of your disagreements with “the other side” and find one, single thing to LIKE about them? Can you look at an individual elected official, or their staff, and show them that you like them on any level? If so, you may be setting yourself up for a big win in the credibility column. Because likable people, like people. Credible people find the credibility in others.

See, what works for politicians can’t work for us. For those campaigning for office, there are gains to be made by pointing out our differences. But for those of us trying to build coalitions, it’s what we like about each other that can bring more voices to our causes. Politicians don’t need us to like them to win re-election. They simply need fewer people to like their opponent. But campaign politics is fundamentally different from governance politics. In governance politics, winners have to find ways to bring people together in even the narrowest alliances.

If you want your cause to find its way along those narrow paths, finding ways to like other people could serve you incredibly well. More importantly, I think it will also help you find more energy to stay in the fight. And that’s critical. Because the stronger your staying power, the more opportunities you’ll get to be at the table. Advocates who can find a way to like more people, could find themselves outlasting their opposition as they continue bringing new allies into the fold.

And that could make all the difference.

Vanessa Van Edwards is the founder of ScienceofPeople.com, as well as the bestselling author of some books you may just see on my bookshelf in the future: Captivate: The Science of Succeeding with People, Cues: Learn the Secret Language of Charismatic Communication.

Never Sacrifice Your Right to Not Have an Opinion

For days now I’ve had this little thought hanging on at the edge of my mind. Not one dominating my attention, just sitting there, patiently waiting for me to key in on it. It was bad enough that while writing a blog piece to post yesterday, I became completely derailed. So, here I am, a day later than my normal personal deadline to post and finally addressing it.

I shouldn’t be surprised at the thought that’s been there. Next week is the beginning of the end for another August recess – a period when members of the American Congress return home to interact with their constituents, reconnect with their districts, and see the real-world impact of some of the myriad decisions they influence in their work. That recess period Is not a restful time for the elected officials – but it is a bit of a reprieve from the normal scrum on Capitol Hill.

But in the next two weeks the legislators will return – first the Senate and then the House of Representatives a week later – and they’re coming back go a full docket. There are funding packages that need addressed, a Farm Bill to write, and mounds of political mud to fling as the parties begin gearing up for contentious primary elections around the country.

It will be a busy fall. News of the day will move quickly, while the legislative process grinds along slowly. And advocates will be back in front of their representatives, scraping for a bit of attention in the middle of what promise to be some ugly fights. There’s nothing new here. This is the norm. But it also happens to be a time of year when I see many advocates – novice and professional alike – fall prey to an easy temptation: having an opinion…on everything.

I’ll never forget a, relatively recent, trip to DC during a similar time when a federal spending fight was all that anyone would allow themselves to discuss. A government shutdown was imminent. Both major parties were moving to the brink – and all anyone could do was talk about the latest rumors on negotiations, or how one faction or another was taking advantage of the day’s crisis. In nearly every meeting I had that day, a looming government shutdown – that never came to fruition – was all our targets wanted to discuss. (Well, that and how the other side was playing dirty.)

Sure, they wanted to hear our opinion on it – and that’s fine. But we had other business at hand. We had another issue to push forward – unrelated to gossip of the day – and we were on the hook for progress regardless of that other fight. And as often as it can be beneficial to understand the context of current events when you’re advocating, its a short journey to get to a point where participating in the speculation and intrigue can actually harm your ability to make progress on the work you came to do. In short, having and sharing your opinion may be just enough to keep you from advancing your very real cause.

I’ve said in this blog before that studying stoic philosophy has helped me become a better advocate. It’s helped me step away from the partisan gamesmanship and focus more on the art of the possible. But for days now, a stoic quote from Marcus Aurelius has kept tugging on my thoughts and I want you to take it with you today for what it’s worth. I want to remind you: you never have to give up your right to have no opinion.

On that past trip to DC, one observation became painfully obvious – probably because I knew I’d slipped into similar meeting tactics before myself on the other side of the table. As I watched Hill staffer after Hill staffer bring the day’s meeting back around to the hot button issue of the day (and seemingly brush off the concerns of the advocates in front of them), it was clearly the easiest way to take control of the discussion and move it away from the hard issue we were supposed to be discussing and toward something they cared about more.

It was a diversion.

I won’t go so far as to ascribe it to malevolent intent – I think the practitioners were victims of the cycle themselves. They likely wanted to be seen as credible and in-the-know, all while trying to afford us the same feeling. Because it feels good to feel like an insider – and that builds rapport for all those in on the secret.

But from my view, the negative impact on our agenda far outweighed the positive -but highly temporary – feelings of camaraderie we established that day. Because in meeting after meeting, we didn’t get to the meat of our issues. We lost control of the agenda. Not every time, but enough for me to be disappointed with the final outcome of our efforts.

That’s the earliest moment I can remember coaching an advocate on the sentiment behind Marcus Aurelius’ quote above. I told her: it’s perfectly ok for us to not have an opinion. We can even say so respectfully and transition back to our issues. Because we didn’t spend all this time and effort to be here and NOT discuss our issues. They don’t get off that easily.

One of the core principles in stoicism is that we don’t try to control the things not in our control. As advocates, we can’t control the legislative calendar, the 24 hour news cycle, or the latest scandal. We can’t have an informed opinion on every issue because there are too many. But we can own the responsibility of not falling victim to the temptation to be an insider. It’s ok. We don’t have to hold an opinion on everything – let that be someone else’s issue.

And philosophically, that sounds well and good. But how do we put it into practice?

You just be you, and tell them what you’re there to discuss again.

Try something like this on for size: “thank you for sharing that concern about the debt ceiling. I can honestly say I’m not prepared to chat with you about that today. I’m willing to look into it more and get back to you. But today, aside from that really challenging topic, I wanted to talk to you about these other issues because they’re also having a tremendous impact on our district back home.”

That quick deflection doesn’t blow them off. It doesn’t dismiss the issue as unimportant. It does state that you’re willing to do more to get informed on that issue – but that today there’s another agenda item you can’t allow them to miss. And you are fully in your rights, your responsibilities, and your good manners to do it just like that.

It may not seem comfortable. It may not seem as fun. But you should never sacrifice your right to not have an opinion. You never have to fully care about someone else’s issues. And not doing so could just be what keeps your successful advocacy day on track.

So as Congress and more than a few state legislatures get back into the swing of things this fall, I want to challenge you to keep this stoic advice in the back of your mind as well. Avoid the temptation. Don’t have an opinion on everything. If for no other reason than you simply don’t have to. It will make you more survivable in this work. And that means you’ll keep showing up.

How Many Times Do I Have To Say This?!?!?

A few months back I was in DC for some hill visits with new-ish advocates. And they were tired. Dog tired.

Going to DC is no joke. It takes a toll on you. Like any business travel, it throws off your system. Your sleep, your diet, your energy – it’s all off. But when you’re there to fight like hell for your cause, the pressure doubles at least. And you get worn down sneakily fast.

That’s where we were. These good folks who were fresh-faced only hours earlier were ready to throw in the towel – but we still had 3 or 4 more meetings to go! If I had a nickel for every time I’ve seen the looks on their faces spread across all the advocates I’ve worked alongside.

But this time, the real exasperation just spilled out of one guy on the trip. After what seemed like his 17th time working through his portion of a meeting, he pulled me aside in the hall and just asked what so many want to ask: how many times do I have to say this?

I just wish I’d had a better answer for him.

In the moment I just told him to dig deep. I reminded him that we only had a few more to get through and then we’d get a celebratory bourbon so he could put it all behind him. It was enough in the moment. But I’m afraid I sold the guy short.

It’s never just 3 or 4 more times. Never. In almost every issue area, our politics moves at a glacial pace. Through immense effort, we move the needle just ever so slightly. Then we have to figure out how to move it again, and again, and again. Just to get a little bit of momentum. To far too many of us, that’s just an unbearable prospect. It really does separate those who do from those who won’t.

The reality on the ground is that you’ll have to do your part 10,000 times.

Okay, that may be an exaggeration. But the number of reps you’ll put in for your cause will astound you in the end. And in many cases, you’ll still not arrive at a final “win” on your issue. It’s a dilemma I didn’t fully appreciate it when I was on the other side of the table as a young congressional staffer. I didn’t quite come to terms with how many times you have to be willing to have the door closed in your face to make a difference.

That’s exactly why we must stop thinking in the terms of winning and losing. You don’t win politics. You may win a debate. You may win a vote. But there’s always the next rung to climb, the next barrier to overcome, the next door to open. The game is infinite.

This week, I want to challenge you to think about your issue in a different way. I want you to ask yourself: “how many times am I willing to say this?” Be honest with yourself. Is this an issue that’s going to keep you excited when it’s your 437th time telling a personal story? Are you really motivated to show up – even when no one else does?

Because that’s the real answer. The truth is you’ll have to share it all, over and over again. You’ll have to teach that new staffer everything you taught the last one. You’ll have to choose the times to forget what’s happened in the past and show up to face a longtime opponent with the pluck of a happy warrior. You’ll have to sweat through your suit on an early summer day in DC again. And you’ll have to unlock whatever it is that helps you keep showing up.

So stop asking yourself how many times you have to do it. That ultimately couldn’t matter less. Instead, challenge yourself to think about how many times you’re willing to do it. Don’t hide from the answer. You may just realize that the issue really is worth all that to you.

The Most Concerning Talking Point You’ll Hear from Congress Right Now

Three separate meetings. Three very different members of congress. From both major parties. One message: you should expect a shutdown this fall. That’s the most concerning talking point I’m hearing consistently out of DC.

Just a couple of weeks after they will return from the August recess period, Congress will face yet another fiscal cliff. And while I’ll leave the speculation on deal-making to the pundits, I think it’s important for the average concerned citizen to realize this isn’t coming out of the blue – and that it does mean you’ll need to lobby for your own causes differently.

At the end of September, Congress will be consumed with one topic: funding the government. Since the 1980s, this type of fiscal emergency has been wielded by one party or the other to force major policy concessions. This fall will be no different. That being said, with Congress laser-focused on this one massive issue, it falls on us to ensure our issues remain relevant and respected in the course of that debate.

Razor-thin republican majorities in the Congress give an incredible amount of power to small groups of legislators. And right now, a small group of Republican members is causing a headache for just about everyone as they position themselves to bring the government to a halt and force federal spending reductions.

As advocates, that’s all out of our control. And while it can be incredibly frustrating, and even a bit demoralizing, the truth remains that we cannot control the situation. All we can control is how we react to the situation we see ahead of us. What’s steamrolling toward us that has both major parties concerned – so concerned they’re openly talking about just how likely it all is.

Some of this rhetoric is about raising awareness of the coming problem. Some of the rhetoric is about expressing the concerns individual members of Congress have and how they plan to act in the midst of the drama. But much, much more of the rhetoric is identifying that there’s common ground between large portions of the majority and minority parties – and that they need our help.

No, we cannot control the actions of a few members who want to force a political fight. We can’t force them to negotiate. But we can back up those who will.

If you have an issue you’ve been supporting through advocacy, it’s an important time for you in the coming weeks. You have an opportunity to build credibility and trust with an elected official near you. Because those members of congress are looking for help from back home.

That’s the other part of the talking points I’m hearing around my own state this August: we’re going to need your help.

Government shut downs suck all the air out of the room. Until a funding spat is resolved, the rest of the government’s business simply cannot proceed. That means every debate on every other issue also comes to a halt. And as important as your issue may feel to you, it’s important to recognize there are a few good times when it makes a lot of sense to chart a different course for your issue. A government shutdown is the big one.

If you try to continue advocacy as normal during a shut down – without any adjustments to your strategy – you’ll be seen as tone deaf. This is the perfect time to practice putting your target’s agenda in the spotlight where you can, and trying to be that critical backup voice they need to press the issue.

It’s important right now to listen for cues from your federal elected officials. Are they sending out digital surveys to their constituents on federal spending issues? They may be looking for personal stories about how a shutdown will impact their district. Are they holding town halls and speaking about what they expect in the fall? They’re clearly trying to get the word out. How can you help?

You can use this time as an opportunity to both continue to educate the public on your issue and demonstrate the setbacks you’d experience in a government shutdown. Ninety percent or more of what we do in advocacy isn’t lobbying. It’s not getting to the point of asking an elected official to take action on an issue. Rather, that 90% is about using the platforms at our disposal – and the political debate of the day – to win more people to our cause.

Get creative. Find personal, impactful ways that others can feel heroic in the midst of your issue getting sidetracked by the bigger political debate. Along the way, capture the stories and find ways to empower your congressional representatives with the solutions you’re creating along the way. Write an op-ed or a letter to the editor, call in to the local radio show. You don’t have to get into the partisanship of the debate to tell your story. You can simply tell your story and let others come to their own conclusions.

But the bottom line is this: when a disruption like this comes along, it’s not time for business as usual. Now is the time to think differently, be nimble, and feel empowered to step (temporarily) away from your big, bold plan. Take a side quest, find a way to bolster those working to resolve the debate, and make yourself more credible and trusted along the way.

From someone who’s needed that from community leaders in the past, trust me, it’s ok. You can do it. And you’ll likely win some new champions along the way.

Did you know that most members of Congress have a newsletter they send out periodically via email? This is a great way to get a view on what they’re spending their time on both in DC and back home. It’s a great source of intel if you’re looking to understand what’s important to them. They also often include surveys on the issues of the day. Use your local representatives newsletter as an opportunity to rethink how your cause can play into those priorities – especially at times when big disruptions are headed our way.

If you don’t know who your federal representative is, you can search by zip code on the House of Representatives Website (the search tool is in the top right corner of the webpage).

Balancing Urgency and Resolve; A Quick Mantra for Advocates

I’m writing this short piece as I sit on a flight after a productive week in our nation’s capital. Over the course of five long days, I was able to work with a group of volunteer advocates seeking to capture the attention of Ohio’s congressional delegation and garner their support on a litany of issues.

There were some wins. Long months of coalition building put our team in a position to move the needle and get some key decision-makers thinking about issues just a little differently. As important, a few days together allowed us the chance to do our homework, practice as small teams, and build our confidence.

But none of that could guarantee a flawless performance – nothing can. That’s the dilemma we face as advocates, isn’t it? No matter how well we prepare, flawless is never an option. 

I talk with advocates about this problem nearly every week. Wether I’ve worked with them for years or hours, I find myself beating this drum nearly every time we take to Capitol Hill or the state legislature: don’t strive for perfect, instead, reach for present. 

But no matter the team, I’m invariably met with either rolling eyes or impatient stares. And it’s fully understandable. How frustrating is it to give so much of your time and talents with zero expectation of measurable progress? Simply stating the obvious here, but that’s politics.

But I have a secret to overcome that frustration. Two little words: festina lente. Together, they translate roughly as “make haste, slowly.”

Blame it on the stoicism I study. It’s making me a more patient person, but it must be more than a bit maddening for those stuck working with me. 

Yes. We all want to make change – change that we believe will leave the world a better place for our having been a part of it. And that belief compels us to action. Which is great. But it’s also exhausting – because that world rarely rises to match our sense of urgency. That disconnect drains us. It wears us down and in all too many cases, affords just the cover we need to disengage. 

To varying degrees, the roadblocks we encounter pull us out of the fight. Our only chance to win out is to adopt a mindset that allows us to continue to face those blocks head on. And of course, keep showing up.

But that little classical adage, festina lente can resonate for anyone trying to accomplish any big, incomprehensible goal. Because internalizing it will help us balance our sense of urgency with an appreciation of the small step forward.

The trick is not getting hung up on slowly. And I’m the first to admit – slowly doesn’t sound appealing when we’re talking about the big issues that motivate us. It doesn’t spin us up and get us energized. But it’s not meant to. We have the sense of urgency. The far more important reminder I try to convey to advocates is that slowly is where we turn passion into progress.

Don’t like that your congressman has been silent on an issue? Stop defining a “win” as getting them to take a stand, issue a statement, or vote on a bill. Instead, set a goal that you’ll meet with their staff four times in the next calendar year, and that you’ll invite them to some kind of event that shows them your experience.

I’m working with farmers these days, so this is especially appealing. So many young staffers, even members of Congress have little to no background with the agriculture sector. So instead of throwing issues in their faces, what do we do? We invite them out to the farm. We make them part of our story for even just a day. Do they want to see equipment? Great! Help with some livestock? Wonderful! Even just a taste of your personal experience helps humanize complex issues and will build trust.

This is the worst kept secret in American politics: personal relationships matter more than political partisanship.

A former boss used to quote the great Buckeye football Coach, Woody Hayes when he’d remind us how to measure success in this field. “Politics is like old school big ten football,” he’d say. “Wins don’t happen with flashy, explosive plays. They happen with three yards, and a cloud of dust.” If you can gain three yards on every play, you control the clock, and you eat up the field.

Each play still has its sense of urgency. Each play still requires your immediate attention – your presence. But no single play has to come off perfectly. Mistakes will be made, blocks will be missed. But if you hustle for each play, and help your team make just three more yards, well, you’re still in the game.

Festina Lente. Make haste, slowly. You’ll get there.

CHALLENGE: Take out a piece of paper and write down those words. Festina Lente – Make Haste, Slowly. Put them on your desk, your fridge or wherever and think about how you can gain three yards today. Extra credit if you post a photo of your note online today with a thought on how you’re going to put the words to use in your own life!

Every Advocate Should Ask This One Rude Question

“They weren’t anything like I expected!”

This has to be a sentiment I hear nearly every time I accompany new advocates during their first swing at lobbying meetings. Nearly every time I’m in that position, I hear folks spanning the political spectrum coming to the same conclusion: that legislator they’d written off had found a way to surprise them.

I started reflecting on that this week as someone shared a third hand story of a friend going through a similar evolution. They’d met with a member of Congress and – much to their surprise – the devil they thought they knew failed to manifest in the room. Instead, they walked away from a good meeting scratching their heads. In the course of a discussion, the member of Congress in question “wasn’t that bad.”

What a standard, eh? Not “that bad.” I think meteorologists and lawyers may be the only other professionals who can challenge such a low bar to shock and awe their clientele. Hide the pitch forks, this guy wasn’t a monster, so we can work with him.

But here I am now – rather late at night – scratching my head. Because there’s more to the story. This particular advocate went on to express to their friend another common sentiment when they stated, with a great deal of pride, that they “hadn’t even lost their cool” with that particular congressman.

I’m sorry, what? You’re proud you weren’t a jerk to a public servant? As the kids say, yikes. This person should be looking themselves in the mirror and asking: “am I the asshole?” In fact, we all should. Yes, I’m quite sure of it. Every advocate should pause and ask themselves: “am I the asshole?”

One of the reasons I go on and on about planning and practicing your meetings is because, unfortunately, this particular advocate isn’t unique. In fact, I’d say they are fairly common. After so many years of sitting down with constituents on behalf of an elected official I can tell you a lot of folks take pride in the wrong accomplishments in this game. They focus on winning an argument or forcing a “gotcha” moment.

But if we want our issues to be taken seriously by decision-makers, we have to take ourselves seriously too. Advocacy meetings aren’t about proving you’re right and the other side is wrong, they are fundamentally about humanizing complex issues. That’s the bulk of what I do as a lobbyist. I try to help folks connect the dots between complex policy concepts and the very real people who will be impacted by a policy’s adoption. I help humanize it.

Yet when dealing with new-ish volunteer advocates, I often find myself spending a great deal of time simply helping them to realize their target is also human – just as human as they are! Members of Congress, governors, city council members – they’re all just people. But the way we talk about “the other side” usually sets us up for failure.

You see, that friend-of-a-friend was caught in the same trap we all are from time to time. The rhetoric she consumes back home didn’t track with the experience she gained in the room. She walked away questioning (if only for a moment) whether she really knew all that she needed to know about her member of Congress. And you know what, that’s a good thing. In fact, it’s the part of this fractious, slow-grind of a governmental system we have that I may like the most.

I believe the more you deal with the big issues, on a larger stage, the more often you’ll take a step back and think about your own opinions. The flip side of that, though, is where danger lies. Because the less often you dive into complex issues, the less often you engage in a broad exchange of ideas, the less reflective you will be.

The vast majority of people I know in politics don’t get their blood boiling every night watching the talking heads on cable news. Hell, they likely aren’t even watching cable news. Because all day, they’re seeing these issues in broader contexts. Our blood pressure isn’t rising because our ideas get pressure tested nearly every day.

And it’s good for us.

But it’s even better for volunteer advocates. I think the biggest growth curve you’ll face as an advocate is when a mission to DC puts your localized experience into a much broader context. Just as humanizing a complex issues builds support for our causes, contextualizing those issues in the broader political debate gives us pause and perspective. And it may just help us buckle down for the long haul effort ahead.

That’s important. Because you have to keep showing up for every bit of that long haul. And if we’re going to successfully elevate our issues, we’re going to have to raise the bar for ourselves along the way. We’re going to have to accept a new standard for our own conduct well above the bare minimum.

“Not losing your cool” just won’t be good enough the more you dig into this work. You’ll even find yourself – maybe, just maybe – liking some people from the other party (gasp!). And along the way, you’ll probably start to like being at the table with them.

Moments in Leadership: Nimitz and the Flight to Nowhere

In a time when social pressure demands a statement on every new crisis, does it pay for a leader to choose silence? In our own rush to take meaningful stands on issues, are there times when opting out of the conversation may be the better part of valor?

I’ve been devouring a biography of US Navy Admiral Chester Nimitz the last several days. Craig L. Symonds’ Nimitz At War: Command Leadership from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo Bay is a sweeping study of the Admiral’s time commanding the Pacific Fleet during the Second World War. Symonds dives into the battles, the personnel squabbles, and the learning curves that shaped the Allies’ campaign to turn back the Japanese under incredible strains.

I’ve always liked studying the battles of the Pacific. It was a logistics war through and through. In our connected modern world, it’s become increasingly difficult for the casual observer to fathom just how difficult it would be to conduct a multi-front war in a space as vast as the Pacific. Let alone one when the European front demanded the foremost attention of the allied governments.

Despite those challenges, within days of the strikes of Pearl Harbor, Chester Nimitz was ordered to Pearl Harbor to organize, equip, and launch America’s response. And while many are familiar with the Island hopping campaign, and famous battles like Guadalcanal, Midway and Iwo Jima, (and of course the Enola Gay) what I’m finding most intriguing in this read are the small stories. Stories, that for one reason or another, don’t stand out in such a crowded historical setting.

It was during Symonds’ analysis of the Battle of Midway that one such story came to light. And I’ll be the first to admit I’d never dug much into it before. Have you heard of the “Flight to Nowhere” during Midway? No? You’re probably not alone.

The Battle of Midway is studied in detail for a lot of reasons. Audacious decisions that led to victory, chance hunches that brought forces to bear, and overwhelming success that wasn’t a given. But this one sideshow to the battle hasn’t garnered a lot of attention. And it seems that Chester Nimitz – and the Spanish American War – may be why. The “Flight to Nowhere” became a story Chester Nimitz aimed to kill through silence.

At 0705 on June 4th, 1942, the USS Hornet and USS Enterprise launched their aircraft to hunt down a Japanese flotilla near Midway. But the vast majority of the planes from Hornet never came into contact with the enemy – and many had to ditch in the ocean, short of fuel to make it home. Why?

Well, we don’t fully know because there are a lot of holes in the historical log. What was reported contradicts later recollections from pilots in the Hornet’s squadrons. More concerning, the official after action report from Captain Marc “Pete” Mitscher seems to bear false witness. Symonds’ covers the discrepancies in a short piece that shows just how challenging it is to square the facts with the reports. And I’ll be glad to leave that level of historical detail to the real professionals.

What interested me in Symonds’ book is his revealing observation of Nimitz’s reaction to the whole affair: he squashed it, choosing to let the record of the flight to nowhere slip into the oblivion provided by a resounding victory at sea. Why? Why not bring Mitscher’s account to scrutiny? Why let a very possible lie stand?

Symonds’ reminds the reader that during Nimitz’s time in the Naval Academy, students would have been schooled heavily on the Spanish-American war. And during that conflict, a personal dust-up between commanders led to a black eye for the Navy. Accusations – and battles of ego – between two commanders became the headline instead of the victory they secured. The conflict carried on for years after the war, ultimately leading to one officer demanding a court of inquiry to clear his name and gain credit for his role in the decisive victory. Despite winning, in this chapter of the US Navy’s history, the Navy was the loser.

Did Nimitz have this bit of Navy history in mind when reviewing the … incomplete … report of Pete Mitscher? Maybe. But what Nimitz did thereafter reveals a lesson some of us may benefit from in the future. He chose silence. He buried the report. Leaving it as a minor footnote to the battle and keeping his own opinions on the matter secret all the way to his death. A black eye on his Navy? Not if he could help it this time.

Occurring only months into the United States’ involvement in the war, the Battle of Midway was a stunning success. American industrial might hadn’t revved up for the long slog of the Pacific theater attrition. Resources were stretched unimaginably thin. In many ways, we had no right to win. But still reeling from Pearl Harbor, Americans needed a win. We needed a step forward, toward victory. And Nimitz’s silence may have secured just that.

More than ever, we are pressed to air our thoughts. To share our stances on every issue under the sun – every public failure, every crisis, every point of friction. In some cases, remaining silent may seem to place you at risk of being “canceled.” In others, remaining silent may just give space for a tenuous coalition to keep working together. But it’s a tough call.

Leaders are pressed with incalculable burdens, day in and day out. Nimitz certainly was. And just like all of us, he was fallible – especially in modern eyes. But I love fallible, fallen heroes. They’re more realistic. I love that Winston Churchill had so many personal failings yet was the man for the moment in his country’s history. I cheer when modern day heroes show us that they too are just human. In a world where picture perfect personal branding is sought after, give me the unkempt.

What those imperfect leaders show us isn’t that they always made the perfect call – but that they were willing to make a call. That’s may just be the delineator separating the great from the almost great. If you were faced with the same circumstances as Nimitz, would you have done the same? Would you have chosen the omission to promote your mission?

I’m not sure. And maybe that’s why I’m enjoying Symonds’ work so much. I’m hopeful for even more thoughtful nuggets like he reveals through “the flight to nowhere.” Even though I’m not quite through yet, I think it’s safe to give Nimitz At War has a place on the Bookshelf.

p.s. Mitscher went on to play critical roles as a pioneering aircraft carrier commander earning the nickname “The Magnificent Mitscher.” He and his aircrews share significant credit in the success of the Island hopping campaign in the Pacific. Sometimes, we should remember that our whole story isn’t written in one failure. 

Last Week in Washington

There’s a buzz in Washington, DC when Congress is in town. It’s a harried, frenetic feeling all around town. And as we made our way through Canadian brush fire smoke last week to take an advocacy message to Capitol Hill, a longtime colleague and friend and I were talking about the frenzied pace that descends when members are in town.

There’s just this…energy.

For two days at that point, we’d been weaving our way through the halls of Congress while witnessing that frantic buzz that accompanies our national legislature when in session. And then, all of a sudden, the town went quiet again. The members, released for the week to return to their home districts, took their part of that energy with them. But there was still plenty of work to be done.

Staffers kept meeting with constituent groups. Middle and High Schoolers from around the country kept touring. Most importantly, citizen advocates kept showing up. And despite the palpable change in tone, many of them still had some wins – even big ones.

But for too many advocates, not having their member of congress in the room for one of those meetings can seem, well, disappointing. We often have it in our heads that without the principal in the room, we won’t make the right impact for our cause. I’m here to tell you last week in Washington reminded me, once again, that those kinds of thoughts are just patently false. Especially if we remember three basics to a long-term approach to advocacy.

Respect The Clock

When the members of Congress head home, their staff don’t. Those young 20 and 30 something legislative aides keep firing away, fielding inquiries and following through on the commitments of their bosses, trying to keep their heads above water. When we come to their field to play, successful advocates keep that reality in mind. They prioritize adding value back to those over-worked, under-respected public servants. And the easiest way is to respect the clock.

A successful advocacy meeting doesn’t need to fit a specific time. There’s nothing magical about 30 minutes, or 60. There IS something magical when you can get straight to the point, share a clear and concise message, and give those staffers time back. Last week, we had several meetings that we wrapped early – because the work was done. Can you get to your ask, share the relevant information and commit to following up in as little as 7 minutes? If so, find a way to do it. Respect the clock, because that shows you’re also respecting your target.

(As an aside, earlier this year I watched one advocacy meeting take a grand total of 4 minutes from greeting to exit. It was magnificent.)

Right Size Your Asks

Clear. Relatable. Actionable. Measurable. That is the four-way test I apply to any ask when I’m heading into an advocacy meeting. As I CRAM for these meetings, that four-way test allows me to right-size my ask for any target. It helps me remove the extraneous, and break free from talking points. Unfortunately, it’s not something I see many advocacy groups prioritize for their volunteers.

Volunteer advocates don’t engage in this work every day. So it’s a big deal when we can get them in the room. Because they add a ton of value when wonks are working to understand the real-world challenges that emerge in the wake of policy decisions. But because of that, we want to squeeze every bit of value we can from their time on the Hill. Unfortunately that causes our list of asks to balloon – because we know those asks will be heard differently when delivered by a constituent.

But if you want to really stand out as one of those volunteer advocates, and build your own credibility, you have to remember that you are in charge of the agenda. That advocacy organization is giving you guidelines, but you have the discretion to help determine what takes priority. Applying my four-way test above may help you do just that.

Just Be Human

Natural born storytellers. That’s what we are as a human race. Individually, you may not think you’re great at it – but you’re likely better than you realize. More importantly, those you’re trying to influence are natural born story-listeners. And we’re all better at that skill than we realize.

Along the course of human history, we’ve conveyed challenging concepts through a consistent medium: the story. We’ve shared our experiences through anecdotes, parables and metaphors – all built on individual experiences. That’s why I talk about storytelling in advocacy so much: it plays to our strengths.

But those stories also do something besides simplifying complex ideas. They also help us to humanize ourselves. When we’re telling stories, we’re often times taking down some of the mental barriers we erect to protect ourselves from outsiders. In advocacy, this means stories help us invite perfect strangers into our reality. And that’s a secret recipe for success – because it even helps us engage with folks we typically see as opponents.

Too often, our political preferences are driving us to engage less and less with those on “the other side.” It’s so common that in the trainings I give to non-profits, I’m always prepared to answer questions about how to overcome the partisan dynamic. People have difficulty seeing themselves positively engaging with “the enemy.” And that’s why we have to push ourselves past the talking points memos, and the heavy handed data.

Our task – if we’re to break through the noise of all that frenzy in Washington – is to stand out as human. Our targets expect to hear “asks” in these meetings. They expect us to bring information. But they NEED us to bring our humanity if we’re going to move the needle. They’ll need those personal anecdotes and examples, and they’ll need to be able to relay them to decision makers as well. We make that effort radically easier when we take our issues to them in the form of stories. And it helps us stand out.

Later this summer, I’ll be back in Washington for more of these Hill visits. I’ll prep advocates to get back into the rhythm of building relationships. And we’ll face the daunting task of showing up despite incredible discomfort. But I’ll tell them about this week – the successes and the blunders. And I’ll help them remember the basics of good meetings. Because this won’t be our last week in Washington – and every week there is a chance to build that credibility just a little more.

Tips for Advocates: Remember this truth as the Presidential Campaign Warms Up

This week, in the category of “worst kept secrets, two prominent Republicans will have announced their candidacies for the 2024 Presidential primary. Senator Tim Scott of South Carolina and Governor Ron DeSantis of Florida will officially enter the fray after months of will they-won’t they speculation. And like the many others considering the same move, they’re trying to carve out their own identity in what promises to be an expansive field – and a field aiming to overcome the ~35% bloc of GOP voters who reportedly support the return of former President Donald Trump as the party’s standard bearer.

Predictably, those of us in the field are already getting questions from friends and neighbors about what we think will happen. Frankly, anyone who says anything other than “I haven’t the foggiest” at this stage is a shyster. Handle them with care.

But I understand the urge to want to feel ‘in the know.’ Each of us, to some degree, wants to feel competent – and thus confident – when it comes to our public duties. It’s perfectly natural to feel this need to have authority around the water cooler. But for those of us in and around professional politics, we have to brace for the long haul over the next year and into the general election to follow. Because presidential politics throws partisanship into high gear.

And that drains the system.

Money. Vigor. Hype. Volunteers. Presidential races – even in the earliest stages of the primary fight like right now – suck all of the oxygen out of the room. It all gets a little bit harder. Because partisan talking points dominate the discourse, little room is left for folks to dive into the nitty-gritty aspects of our governance. Every issue, every topic becomes untouchable to some degree.

And it’s exhausting! Because of the tectonic shifts that can happen almost daily in a presidential competition, it can be hard to keep up with all the breaking news. That information overload causes a lot of issues for our limited mental bandwidth as private citizens. There’s just too much to filter. Because of that, we may unexpectedly find ourselves in a tenuous position: judging all the news, the actions of those in our circle, even the actions of our favorite brands through a litmus test curated by the partisan arguments of the moment.

This is a recipe for discontent and disengagement. It’s also the seed for the single most important lesson I’ve learned since quitting partisan politics: leaning into your issues, instead of partisan intrigue, will keep you in the fight.

Here’s what I mean a little more plainly: when we are willing to divorce ourselves from the identity formed by involvement in partisanship, we’re able to start seeing politics just a little differently. We’re able to step back, breathe, and gain a broader perspective. That new vantage point helps us avoid the motion sickness that comes with the frenetic activity of hyper-partisanship. That means staying power. That means an opportunity to endure in the fight when others are too fatigued to keep going. That, in and of itself, will give you more chances to win the day.

I’m not saying you have to walk away from your party identity. You have core beliefs. We all do. We need vehicles to carry those beliefs into the public debate – and political parties can carry quite a bit. But when we subvert our own identity, our own character and replace it with the fabrication of the political machine, we lose something. We lose ourselves. We lose our relationships. We lose our damn minds.

You know what I’m talking about. The caricatures of people that arise throughout a campaign. Meme after meme where individuals become the lasting image of rage, disappointment, even hatred. When we allow too much of our identity to be housed in that partisanship, we become those caricatures.

I will preach this for as long as I remain in the political arena. We owe it to ourselves and our causes to be better – and that takes a very personal commitment. A commitment to remembering that your political party is not a substitute for a personality – or your duty to think.

If you’re “in the ring” on an issue, fighting it out, this week’s announcements are your early warning signal about the partisanship coming our way. Find a way to distance yourself from it when working your issues. As hard as it may seem, consciously putting your partisan identity in the backseat will serve your issue. Doing so allows you the freedom to engage with those you’d otherwise write off. And over the next 18 months? That will be a breath of fresh air for decision makers.