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Last Friday night my wife took me to see This Beautiful City a play based on interviews with those in and around the Evangelical movement in Colorado Springs, at the Studio Theatre. Parts of the performance reminded me of some of my work with progressive activists.

In one scene three US Air Force cadets are at a table explaining their faith and denying that they inappropriately evangelize on campus. One says they do not preach at folks by saying “I’m right and you’re wrong.” Rather they “show people the truth” and let them come to their own conclusions (or something to that effect – the quotes are probably wrong but the spirit of the thing is right). The cadets say they simply show the truth, and once seen it cannot be denied.

This sounds a lot like a lot of activists I’ve known over the years. Most folks reading this have a list of issues about which they cannot understand disagreement - most at some point say, “if they only knew what was really going on they would agree with me.”

Most of us think of ourselves as mostly reasonable most of the time. We tend to make decisions for what we think are pretty good reasons. Almost no one has a conversion based on the simple revelation of new information. This is especially true of issues that involve values, judgments, and other areas that more personal than which type of detergent to purchase. Our political decisions – from whether or not we support free trade to our political candidates of choice – fall into the former rather than the latter. We make political decisions based on internal visions of how the world works and how the issue or candidate in question fits that view.

As such, just showing the data and hoping for a conversion is bound to fail. And insisting on our truth, the rhetorical equivalent of repeating yourself louder and slower, mostly makes you look foolish and angers the person you’re talking to.

The problem isn’t fungible truth or “mere relativism.” The problem is that most issues and most people are mostly true on a lot of fronts. Free trade does, on balance, increase the wealth of the nations that engage in it, while trade barriers are on balance bad. So the truth is that free trade is good. But free trade does create winners and losers, does perpetuate a capitalist system which itself has winners and losers, and development (a result of trade) does hurt the environment. So the truth is free trade is bad. One does not deny the other.

And, of course, while truth may not be relative is it is often personally held. So even if the person who thinks they have Truth has a lie, telling them “you’re living a lie, your beliefs are misguided at best and evil at worst, join me because I’m better than you” is not likely to succeed.

Good persuasion learns what the audience believes to be true and matches the action to that belief. Rather than saying, “you’re wrong, I’m right, do this” good persuasion says “you’re right, do this.”

I recently took part in a day-long meeting that wanted to discuss ideal model legislation absent political considerations – what would the participants like to see as law if politics weren’t a concern?

On its surface this is an appealing notion and logical first step, like a career planning session in which you start with “if you could be anything what would it be?” You start where you want to end up and then figure out how to get there. There are several problems with this approach.

Organizers made political assumptions going into the meeting. The issue was framed as one of good public policy, a way for states to save money and as being non-partisan. These are political considerations.

Organizers asked what participants would want in a law. Laws, of course, do not do anything by themselves (if they did there would be no crime). Laws give people something to enforce through fines, incarceration or public pressure. This question put the outcome in a political context. A better question would have been “what policy outcomes do you want?” This leaves open the opportunity for local regulations or administrative rules, organizational best practices, or court rulings.

Participants contributed to the failure of the approach as well. Rather than focus on painting the ideal picture, many made two political moves. First, many worked within the assumptions above (though some did talk about looking at non-state legislative bodies and one made a strong case to avoid laws and instead work to change agency rules). Second, and more tellingly, many participants talked about what they thought needed to be in the law to get it to pass.

Most importantly, however, organizers assumed that public policy could be made non-political. It cannot. In a democratic society, public policy is inherently political. This is not a cynical assertion with a hidden lament for the good old days when good people did the right thing because it was the right thing to do. Those days never were, and as long as we have to argue about how to solve our shared social problems, policy will be political. Some in the discussion suggested that the best way to achieve the ends would be to quietly act, burying provisions in long bills, sneaking new procedures in to administrative rules. But hiding from politics doesn’t work. Someone would notice and make it political, and advocates would lose their gains. Positive change needs a favorable political environment in which success is likely. The policy outcome – the social change – being sought by organizers depends on public support to succeed.

The ultimate problem is that organizers got their approach backwards. Rather than start with the bill and then figure out how to manage the politics to get to there, they should have asked what political environment participants wanted to achieve and then what role, if any, laws could play in getting there.

It’s past time to put together the next Milo Public Affairs eNewsletter. And this being summer it is also past time for summer reading lists. What’s on your reading list? Post your suggestions here or email them to me at ploge@milopublicaffairs.com and I’ll put them in the next eNews in a week or so.

“The best political commercials are Rorschach patterns,” [Tony Schwartz] wrote in his book “The Responsive Chord” (Anchor Press, 1973). “They do not tell the viewer anything. They surface his feelings and provide a context for him to express these feelings.”

Over the weekend media guru Tony Schwartz died in his home (The New York Times obituary is here).

Schwartz was, of course, most famous for The Daisy Spot, an ad for Lyndon Johnson in 1964 that contrasted a little girl pulling petals off a daisy and counting up to ten with a cold voice counting down from ten and ending in a mushroom cloud. The ad, which aired only once, never mentioned Barry Goldwater by name – but made a clear argument that a vote for Goldwater was a vote for global annihilation.

In his first book, The Responsive Chord, Schwartz argues that sounds – not arguments or conversation, but the ambient sounds of our lives – ‘pluck’ responsive chords and remind us of things we already believe. A good ad-man can put the product into that recollection and sell almost anything. The Daisy Spot reminded viewers that Goldwater was nuts (something a lot of folks believed) by contrasting innocence and life with a machine sounding voice and global death. Similarly a Schwartz-created ad for Coke featured a sweating bottle and the sound of soda being poured – viewers weren’t told “when it’s hot you sweat a lot, and often it feels good to have a cold soda to both cool you down and rehydrate you; Coke is a soda that can be served cold; so on hot days consider purchasing and consuming a Coke.” Instead, viewers were subconsciously taken to hot and sweaty, then cooled and refreshed, via Coke.

The core Schwartz’s insight, a lesson not well-enough learned by advocates and candidates, is that the best arguments remind rather than tell. The most compelling arguments find something the audience already believes to be true and puts the issue in the context of that belief.

This is not a new insight – it’s the basis of Aristotle’s enthymemes. There are echoes in Stephen Toulmin’s notion of the warrant and in countless other analysis of rhetoric and persuasion.

And yet…as campaign season heats up and advocates try to make ever more clever arguments with ever more clever data (and at ever increasing volume), as economists construct ever more complitacted charts to show why they are right about taxes or recessions, and as environmentalists create ever more depressing maps about where less and less land will be, it is a lesson that will likely be again forgotten.

Those who are the most successful in the November elections (and in Congress and other legislatures, and pretty much everywhere else) will be those who remember that it’s more persuasive to remind than it is to tell.

I offer the below for your consideration – citation and explanation follow the lengthy quote.

The blog…is a one man show. One has complete freedom of expression, including, if one chooses, the freedom to be scurrilous, abusive, and seditious; or, on the other hand, to be more detailed, serious and “high brow” than is ever possible in a newspaper or in most kinds of periodicals. At the same time, since the blog is always short…in principle, at any rate, can reach a bigger public. Above all, the blog does not have to follow any prescribed pattern. It can be in prose or in verse, in can consist largely of maps, or statistics or quotations, it can take the form of a story, a fable, a letter, an essay, a dialogue, or a piece of “reportage.” All that is required of it is that it shall be topical, polemical, and short.

As one might guess, this isn’t about blogs at all, but rather about pamphleteers writing before the American Revolution. The original quote is below, and is taken from Bernard Bailyn’s Pulitzer and Bancroft Prize winning book, Ideological Origins of the American Revolution. Bailyn, in turn, is quoting Orwell writing in British Pamphleteers.

The pamphlet [George Orwell, a modern pamphleteer, has written] is a one man show. One has complete freedom of expression, including, if one chooses, the freedom to be scurrilous, abusive, and seditious; or, on the other hand, to be more detailed, serious and “high brow” than is ever possible in a newspaper or in most kinds of periodicals. At the same time, since the pamphlet is always short and unbound, it can be produced much more quickly than a book, and in principle, at any rate, can reach a bigger public. Above all, the pamphlet does not have to follow any prescribed pattern. It can be in prose or in verse, in can consist largely of maps, or statistics or quotations, it can take the form of a story, a fable, a letter, an essay, a dialogue, or a piece of “reportage.” All that is required of it is that it shall be topical, polemical, and short.

There is a terrific article in today’s Washington Post on DC United midfielder Santino Quaranta (I Should Have Been Dead). The piece tells the story of the early promise of a Baltimore teenager signed by DC at age 16, his drug addiction and injuries that led to benching and trades, and his redemption and return to DC.

Any who has ever heard me talk about politics or regularly reads this blog knows this story: boy meets girl; boy loses girl; boy gets girl in end. Hope, loss and redemption. Early promise, setbacks, overcoming through personal strength and conviction.

Quaranta’s story has all the elements of the American narrative:

Boy meets girl: Raised in a working class neighborhood, loving parents with blue collar jobs, talent recognized early and swept from the streets to the elites, married a girl he met at an eighth-grade dance, early fame and success.

Boy loses girl: Injuries introduce him to drugs (a weakness that’s not entirely his fault shows him the dark side), “no one is going to tell me what to do” (hubris), drug addiction (he doesn’t change, drugs change him), traded for “player acquisition funds”, then traded again, then another injury, then out of contract at age 22.

Boy gets girl in end: Through personal strength and conviction (and the help of a loving wife and strong figures like DC United GM Kevin Payne and mid-fielder Ben Olsen) overcomes and succeeds.

This is the American narrative, in politics as well as sports (and business, and just about everywhere else).

Senator McCain. Early promise: son and grandson of admirals, goes to the Naval Academy; fall from grace/tragedy: parties a lot (dates a stripper), held prisoner in Vietnam; Redemption: finds inner strength, suffers then emerges a hero and stands up for what he believes in (with support of a loving wife) and succeeds.

Senator Obama. Early promise: son of hardworking immigrant father; tragedy/fall from grace; father leaves and is raised by a single mother, tries drugs, is a bit aimless; Redemption; hard work and perseverance and he’s a star at Harvard Law, sticks to his values (with the support of a loving wife and grandmother) and succeeds.

Run down the list - President Bush: son of a president grandson of a senator, lousy business man and party boy, finds god and with strength (and help from a loving wife) gets his act together, sticks to his beliefs and is elected president. Senator Kennedy: last surviving brother, historic legacy, drinking and irresponsible behavior, recommits to his core values (with the support of a loving wife), emerges as the Liberal Lion and is an American icon. This story can be told about countless politicians, business leaders, and others we honor.

This “fantasy theme” (to steal from Ernest Bormann) is easily found in the telling of everything from the founding of the republic (pilgrims looking for god, fall on hard times, persevere through faith and build nation), the revolution (winter soldiers), the Civil War (Lincoln’s restoration rhetoric) and on forward.

Quaranta’s story is compelling, gripping, humbling, and deeply American.

Milo Public Affairs LLC is just over a year and a half old, and things are going well. The firm has been involved in a successful effort to abolish the death penalty in New Jersey, helped American Farmland Trust’s efforts on the farm bill, and has lobbied for both America’s Funniest Home Videos and WickedCoolStuff.com, and more.

Now it’s time to grow.

To that end I’m looking for a co-conspirator.

I’m looking for someone to join Milo Public Affairs at the top level, someone with skills and experience that compliment mine, someone who is smart and interesting, and someone who wants to help build a public affairs/legislative strategy/strategic communications company.

If this is you, or someone you know, shoot me an email at ploge@milopublicaffairs.com.

- Peter

There is no shortage of advice for consultants. There are guides for dummies, shelves of books that open “getting fired was the best thing that happened to me” and endless manifestos on how to make a million dollars (hint: write books on how to be a consultant). There is a profound absence of guides for clients.

In talking to clients and potential clients, some common concerns arise. As a consultant I try to account for those concerns, and address them head on in initial meetings.

For example, I try to ensure clients never wonder what I’m doing. For most clients I send a weekly update memo, generally a single page with a bullet points on what I accomplished in the past week and what I hope to accomplish in the next week. I try to make it clear what my fees cover and what they don’t cover (I don’t charge for faxing, long distance calls or other fixed fees that I would pay regardless of who hired me, I do charge for expenses like cabs and meals that I incur as the result of a specific project, I never charge a markup or administrative fee). That sort of thing. Some of what I talk about early in an engagement is in response to frustrations I have had with consultants over the years, and frustrations I have heard from clients (mine and others).

As a client, there are some things you can do to help me as well.

These tips are based on the premise that I want you to think I did a good job. If you don’t think you’re getting good value for your dollar, you are unlikely to hire me again. You are also unlikely to recommend me to your friends; worse, you may suggest your friends not hire me either. None of us wants that, no you, not me, not my mortgage lender.

This is an incomplete list, in no particular order, based on one consultants view –

Give direction. The more clear you can be about what you want, the less likely I am to deliver the wrong thing.

Consult. My job is to give you advice - ask for it. You don't have to take it (I'm paid to offer input, not have it taken), but it doesn't hurt to seek it out.

Give feedback. No consultant wants to send dispatches from remote corners of the empire that junior clerks record and file. Let us know what we’re doing right and wrong, and how we can better serve you.

Ask questions. I work for you, you don’t work for me. Ask me questions, probe my thinking and approach. We’ll both be better for it. But with the answers in hand,

Trust. You’ve hired a consultant because I can do something you cannot, or that you do not have the time to do. Let me. Give me direction, ask a lot of questions, provide positive and negative feedback, and then let me help you.

This seems like a good can of worms to open on a Monday morning –
What are other tips for clients?
And what are other tips for consultants?

Mike Dorning’s piece in the Chicago Tribune on the historic moment that Barack Obama’s nomination represents (It Would Not Have Been Possible 40 Years Ago) led me to reflect on some of the coverage surrounding Senator Kennedy’s recent illness.

The question to which I return is “what is Barack Obama?” Or, more precisely, “what are Barack Obama?” Similarly, what are Senator Kennedy? And for that matter what are the rest of us?

The easy, though maybe not most obvious, answer is that Barack Obama is a man. He’s the guy who is supposed to take out the garbage on trash night and pick up the dry cleaning on his way home from the office. He’s a father, a neighbor, and a colleague. But most of us, most of the time, see different Barack Obamas that raise more complicated questions. Is he the first black nominee for president from a major political party? Or the first half-black (or half-white) nominee? Is he the first Hawaiian? Is his an immigrant story or a black American story? Is Obama an icon of race in America, or of our (final) transcendence of race in America? As he has noted, much of his appeal relies on voters assigning meaning to him, projecting their dreams (or nightmares) onto the candidate.

Over the past few weeks I have been thinking a lot about Senator Kennedy. Like Obama, Kennedy is a man. He’s the guy with a mini-van who went to his kid’s baseball games. But he is also the Liberal Lion, the last of a generation, a misty reflection of his brothers and a past that never quite became the future, an old-school legislator who fought like hell in public and worked like mad in private to find the common ground to, as he puts it, tack into the wind. Up until a few weeks ago he was a hard working liberal Senator who had lost some of his shine over the years because we all knew him so well. He is a target around which conservatives raise money, standing in for all that is wrong with America. To staff he is either EMK or The Senator, never “Ted” or “Teddy.” He is a metaphor of hope, of hard work, of promise; he is also a metaphor of privilege, liberalism, and big-government.

One can conduct a similar exercise for most public figures, indeed for most private figures as well. We are all bundles of metaphors that others project onto us and that we try to project into the world.

There has recently been some discussion about whether or not a book written by Someone Who Was There is a full and accurate portrayal of events. The author says it is; others who were also there said a review of the book seemed to be commenting on a work of fiction.

Is the book fact or fiction? Is it true or not? The answer, of course, is yes.

There is no single, complete and fully accurate description of anything. As countless philosophers and scholars have noted over the centuries, people exist apart from whatever reality may be out there. We experience events through our own lenses, we interpret events based on our previous interpretations. Where you stand, as they say, depends largely on where you sit.

For the author of the book in question, the events happened as explained. That truth is based on recollections, researching the book (which invariably got filtered through an evolving memory), and the need to put a series of events into a coherent narrative both for the sake of the reader and the writer). For the author, any recollections that significantly vary from his description are fictions rooted in personal agendas or politics. Others who read the book will encounter it just as the author encountered the elements in it – in retrospect, based on selected recollections, and with an eye to constructing a coherent narrative. Both tellings are equally fictitious – and equally true.

Which brings us to policy.

All policy arguments are constructions of reality. They are stories with victims, victors and vanquished. They make sense from a point of view that both reinforces and reflects a reality. Issues, like history, are multidimensional.

For example copyright protection can be about law enforcement and centralizing an already too-powerful oligopolistic elite (giving prosecutors the tools they need to enforce national and international law); rewarding artistic insights and continuing the commodization of our shared culture (people should get paid for cool stuff they think up); hanging onto fast-fading and failing economic models at the expense of new ways of working and creating new economic models(enforcing current copyright law); and so forth. All of these “stories” about copyright are accurate fictions.

The task of the policy entrepreneur is the same as the task of the would-be author. Authors who sell lots of books tend to know what their readers want, and deliver it to them. Successful advocates do the same – they learn who their readers are (decision makers), how those folks view the world, and then write their policies in ways that reinforce the decision makers point of view. Democrats who read kiss-and-tell books about the Bush administration, and Republicans who read books praising the President, do so for the satisfaction of saying “I knew it!” Legislators tend to support issues that allow them to say the same thing.