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Advocacy is about the person being persuaded, not the person doing the persuading. If you ask me for something I assume it’s good for you – that’s why you’re asking – explain why it’s good for me.

This lesson has recently been driven home by students at George Washington University trying to persuade me to sign them into a course I teach in on language and politics in the School of Media and Public Affairs. One student spent last semester abroad and there was a power outage when she tried to register, another got a great internship that required dropping a class and needs a last elective so she can graduate on time, and so forth. All good reasons, from the perspective of the students. But less than compelling from my perspective. All the students asking to be signed in are seniors, meaning they had three years (and still have the coming spring semester) to fulfill their requirements. Most say basically they want to take my class because it fits their schedule rather than because of any particular interest in the subject.

I like my students and enjoy the conversations we have. But the classroom is small, there are fire code restrictions on the numbers of people allowed in the room, and each additional student is two more exams and four more papers to grade. All are reasons not to sign in. I get paid a flat rate regardless of the number of students, so there is no monetary incentive to add students (indeed, time I spend on students is time I cannot spend on clients, so there are financial costs to extra students). There are no advantages for me to sign in a student, and there are financial and personal costs to doing so.

A smart prospective student will do what smart advocates do:
Determine the goal – get into the class, which the students have done;

Identify power – in this case me, which all have done;

Determine what power finds persuasive – this is the problem, the students use what they find persuasive with no consideration of what I would find compelling;

Learn from whom the message is most persuasive – the students assume they are their own best advocates, which may or may not be true; and

Do that – without the message and messenger steps, this step cannot successfully be taken.

Smart students will talk about what I will get out of them, not what they will get out of me. For example a student who studied abroad could talk about the international perspective she would bring to class discussions, or someone with a great internship could talk about bringing what they learn to class, and they will highlight a passion to learn about the topic rather than being available on Wednesday nights. Very smart students will talk to others who have taken courses from me to learn what I find persuasive and from whom (for example my sister in law is a big deal in the department). And the sharpest students will focus on what works for me, not them.

According to the Wall Street Journal food retailers will soon begin posting calorie counts. (This is via Ezra Klein’s Wonkbook).

According to the article:
“Health advocates say the change could be a powerful tool in fighting the obesity epidemic, a top initiative in Washington since first lady Michelle Obama made childhood obesity her signature cause in February.

"Everybody's going to be a little bit better informed, and that's a good thing," said Lou Sheetz, executive vice president at Sheetz Inc., an Altoona, Pa., convenience store chain with 380 outlets in six states.”

The notion is nice, but misguided. As I have written elsewhere, facts are not incentives. Raw bits of data don’t mean a lot. To have power, facts need context that gives them meaning. For example, researchers across a number of fields point out that to act I need to know what my peers are doing with the data; if you want me to lose weight put me around others who are losing weight and I’ll try to keep down with the Joneses.

At my desk I’m surrounded by bits of data. According to my water bill, which is on top of my “to be filed” pile, my “current read” is 788, my “Usage (CCF)” is 8 and my “Usage (gallons)” is 5,984. I have no idea what the first two phrases mean and I have no idea if 6,000 gallons is a lot or a little. Calorie counts will become CCFs – numbers without context or meaning. I try to eat relatively healthily and I try to exercise, but haven’t the slightest idea how many calories I consume in a day and how that number compares to other men in their mid-40s who are six feet tall.

But, I hear my liberal foodie friends cry, there is no disadvantage to more information. Again, I would disagree. First, more data become more bits of white noise that we simply stop seeing thus arguably making it more difficult to make informed choices with meaningful data. Second, it is one more thing that small businesses must do – there is a cost to those who serve us the cheddar fries and chocolate covered bacon (both of which I love). That cost comes out of very slender profit margins, which means other cuts elsewhere in the company or it means increased prices for us. Just because it might not hurt to have a data point is not a reason to mandate action.

Clearly Americans need to make better choices about their health, which includes food. But rather than toss out data (11!) and hope for the best, smart advocates will learn why people make the choices they do, how those choices are affected, and work with those lessons.

There are a number of ways to analyze Glenn Beck’s recent rally on the National Mall. Each explanation offers different insights into different elements, and taken together all of the analysis can provide a complete picture of the ‘what’ and ‘so what’ of the event.

One way to view the event is to rely on Ernest Bormann’s work, The Force of Fantasy: Restoring the American Dream(Southern Illinois University Press, 1985. It is almost as if Beck read Bormann one night and came to work the next day saying “I have a great idea…”

Bormann writes:
“The rhetorical fantasy type of purification through rebirth and restoration was central to the Puritan persuasion of the founders of New England, was the key to the rise of the evangelical persuasion of the New Lights of the Great Awakening, was the basis for the restoration movement of the Disciples of Christ, and was the foundation of the vision of the evangelical agents of abolition. The fact that the restoration fantasy type was the central rhetorical form of Ronald Reagan’s first inaugural address in 1980 provides further evidence for its longevity and staying power.”

Bormann’s analysis of Lincoln’s rhetoric is especially explanatory (an analysis for Beck’s rhetoric made awkwardly more appropriate by the location of the speech):

“Lincoln’s archetypical fantasy was that of restoration [emphasis in original]. Lincoln’s drama of restoration portrayed a nation fallen on evil times, a nation which needed to restore itself, to return to the purity of the time of its founders, to renew the basic value and ideals of the Declaration of Independence, and to restore the Union to the original foundations of the constitution to show that the great experiment in self-government could work and that ‘the last best hope of mankind’ would be lost forever if it failed.”

Even Beck’s persona is one that Bormann suggests is part of the American narrative: the former sinner turned savior who leads a revival.

Bormann argues that the world is “chaotic and confusing”, and that shared rhetorical fantasies are “coherent accounts of experience in the past or envisioned in the future that simplify and form the social reality of participants.” By offering coherent explanations speakers give their audiences a ground on which to stand. By relying on the shared restoration fantasy, one that has appeared again and again in American history, a speaker is able to locate a person in a story with which they are already familiar.

Our economy remains in trouble, we’re fighting two wars, technology is changing a light speed, and ‘the other’ is here (gay marriage, an African American president, a higher profile for Muslims in America, etc. – things that make some people very uncomfortable, in part because the phenomena fall outside their explanation of the world, outside of their rhetorical fantasy). Beck relies on an American trope to explain the change and to explain the role of the audience in that change. Seen in this light, Beck’s rally is fundamentally American in both form and substance.

Where an argument takes place can have an important impact on the outcome of the argument. Attorneys “venue shop” hoping to try cases in front of favorable judges, kids quickly learn which parent is the soft touch and smart advocates strategically select legislative committees for their bills.

This morning’s Washington Post Wonkbook points to the most recent example of advocates using jurisdictions as a tool. They point to a Wall Street Journal piece on advocates encouraging the Senate to debate extension of the Bush tax cuts through the Finance Committee rather than bringing the debate straight to the floor.

Advocates will no doubt make arguments about the regular order of the Senate and the importance of following the rules, especially when public cynicism with Congress is running so high. Good reasons to be sure – but as the Journal notes, a more likely reason is that the Senate Finance Committee is more amendable to the tax cut extension than the full Senate is.

(As a side note – if you don’t read Ezra Klein’s Wonkbook you really ought to – smart, well written, fun asides, no DC gossip.)

In this case the venue can help determine the outcome without having any persuasive effect; that the debate happens in Committee doesn’t make it more or less persuasive, it simply changes those in charge of the outcome (another critical point about power, which is another discussion for another time).

There are cases in which the location helps define the issue and thus is itself part of the persuasion. For example, if network neutrality is debated in the Judiciary Committee it is “about” fairness for consumers but if it’s debated in the Commerce Committee it’s about economics. Similarly, if vertical consolidation of media is debated in Judiciary it’s about anti-trust, if it’s debated in Commerce it’s about the market and if it’s debated in the Small Business Committee it’s about entrepreneurs and job creation. Each location highlights a different dimension of the debate, privileges different arguments, gives different witnesses and advocates credibility, and has different standards for what makes a good argument. The location is itself persuasive and helps determine the persuasive aspects of the rest of the debate.

Smart advocates consider the where of an argument when they construct their strategies, factoring in the specific decision makers in a specific location as well as the broader rhetorical effects of their chosen venue.

“…participants who said they did lots of environmentally responsible things on the energy front actually had less accurate perceptions of all this—suggesting that while people may think they’re doing the planet good, they are not.”

- ”Green and Clueless”, Sharon Begley, Newsweek, 8/17/10

This essay is another reminder that facts are not incentives.

We get facts wrong all the time. The piece points out that people don’t know how much energy things use, either in absolute terms or in relationship to each other. This ignorance isn’t limited to the relative environmental impact of clothes lines versus cell phones – most of us don’t know state capitals, how the federal budget process works or who signed TARP into law.

Even if we get the facts right, that does not mean that we will act on them. Flossing will keep my teeth healthier and diminish the amount of shame I feel at the dentist, yet I haven’t flossed in a week. A number of Republican candidates, and presumably their potential voters, simply don’t believe in global warming in spite of mountains of evidence to the contrary.

And even if we get the facts right that doesn’t mean we will act in ways that those pointing out the facts would like us to. One study of the effects of messages about global warming found that scare tactics made people want to drive SUVs more and economy cars less; clearly not the conclusion advocates were hoping people would reach (the logic is that if we are about to be under siege from storms and rising waters we want to be in cars that can handle it – what you rather be driving through armageddon, a Mini Cooper or a Hummer?)

Some of us do get the facts right and do intend to act in ways that we think make sense from the facts – but still get it wrong. My dad is very environmentally conscious and talks a good global warming talk. One of his solutions is to “hyper mile”, squeezing every possible mile out of a gallon of gas. But to the best of my knowledge he has never cleaned the lint-filter in his dryer.

A better solution than dumping facts on the field and hoping they get picked up in the right ways is to provide clear incentives to act. One example of relying on incentives rather than data is a company called OPower which uses competition and social norms to drive down individual energy consumption. Homeowners can track how much power they are using compared to their neighbors in the context of who is saving more – sort of keeping down with the Joneses. So far their approach works, with individuals cutting energy consumption by 2.5%. Cutting your power consumption by that amount may not seem like much, but added up across all of the homes in a city or region it quickly becomes real and important.

If you want someone to behave differently find a way to reward that person for the behavior.

Advocacy is not for the impatient. When Congress moves quickly, it moves slowly. And when it moves slowly – which is most of the time – it can appear to be standing still. Ours is a political system designed to prevent rapid and radical change, and in that regard it succeeds.

One rule of thumb I use with clients (which, like most rules of thumb, is more explanatory than accurate) is the Three-Congress Rule. In the first session of Congress you maybe have a hearing or two on your bill, get some cosponsors, get a little media, generate some letters to legislators, spend time talking to staff. This takes two years. In the second session you go back to your cosponsors (remember that when a Congress adjourns all the unpassed bills vanish and you have start over again), have a few more hearings, get some more coverage, generate more grassroots and grasstops support, maybe you manage to get the bill out of Committee or even the House or the Senate. Then time runs out and another two years is over. In the third session you again go back to your cosponsors, and folks say “didn’t we pass this last year?” and you get your bill. When the bill eventually does pass it probably looks very different than it did at the start, and may be tacked onto a larger piece of legislation that may or may not have anything to do with your idea. This is if all goes well. And things rarely go well.

The administrative process isn’t much better. The rules mandate a slowness – there is a notice of inquiry, followed by a notice of proposed rulemaking, followed by replies, followed by responses. And this is just the official timing – the clock can stop and start, issues can move for months or years before getting to an NOI.

The most successful advocacy efforts recognize this reality and work within it. They develop and maintain relationships with policymakers over time, becoming part of the policymakers’ informal team on whatever the issue at hand happens to be. Given the turnover rate on the Hill and in the administration, outside advocates often outlast the policymakers themselves, further increasing their power and chances of success.

Less successful efforts jump in at the end, filing comments with an agency or generating a grassroots push around a bill in its final stages. This can sometimes work, but is often too late. By the time a bill hits committee or the floor the hard work of narrowing options has been done, decisions about which problem to solve and the general approach to solving it have been made.

Winning a policy debate is like winning any other debate, it is far easier to do at the beginning than at the end. If you want to impact policy at the end, get in early and stay in throughout.

Congratulations to Professor James Thurber on being awarded the 2010 Walter Beach Pi Sigma Alpha Award from the National Capitol Area Political Science Association. In his acceptance address Prof. Thurber answered the question, Has President Obama Changed the Way Washington Works? (Spoiler alert: No).

As a once, and possibly future, registered lobbyist I agree with Prof. Thurber when he says:

"Are lobbyists the major problem with the way Washington works as President Obama argues? I think not. The problems of hostility and paralysis we see in our national government is not caused by lobbyists. Washington has degenerated to the point where civic debate has become uncivil invective; analysis has been displaced by ideology. Many vital public issues are not solved, but rather stored for future partisan use. I think the disappearance of moderates or the “vital center” is a threat to our democracy. They are an endangered species and moderate Republicans must be put in the “witness protection program.

The inability of our political system - in the absence of a vigorous, bipartisan center - to address effectively such known and crucial issues as additional job creation programs, tax reform, the rising accumulation of public debt, a looming Medicare and Social Security shortfall, immigration reform, an education system that leaves still leaves too many of our children behind world standards, and serious energy and environmental problems is a scandal. The system that cannot confront these challenges will surely lack the reserves of comity and trust to face any future crises."

In his address Professor Thurber outlines several problems and solutions, including: reforming ethical behavior; reforming legislative procedure; reforming the earmark process; reforming redistricting (a favorite of mine - ed); reforming how money is raised and spent; and reforming registration of lobbyists.

Professor Thurber is a long-time scholar of Congress and committed advocate for a robust democracy. His honor is well deserved, and his advice is worth serious consideration.

“Statistics only capture one slice of the problem. But it is the renowned Harvard economist, Larry Katz, who offers the most compelling analogy. “Think of the American economy as a large apartment block,” says the softly spoken professor. “A century ago – even 30 years ago – it was the object of envy. But in the last generation its character has changed. The penthouses at the top keep getting larger and larger. The apartments in the middle are feeling more and more squeezed and the basement has flooded. To round it off, the elevator is no longer working. That broken elevator is what gets people down the most.”

Edward Luce in The Financial Times via Ezra Klein in the Washington Post

As I remember Immanual Wallerstein’s World System’s Theory (a memory that is almost certainly flawed), a primary reason there has been no global war between the world’s poorest and wealthiest nations is because those on the global periphery believe they can move through poverty into middle-class and eventually to wealth. As long as there is the belief that the earth’s poorest countries can become among the wealthiest, there will be relative global stability.

One could, and others surely have, applied this logic to domestic political stability as well. As long as the Horatio Alger story remains credible, there will be relative political stability in the U.S.; if those at the bottom of the economic ladder believe that with hard work and a little luck they can climb the ladder to – and through – the middle class then there will be relative political tranquility. Similarly, those at the top of the ladder need to sometimes fall. The middle class needs to be both attainable and fluid.

It’s not the big penthouses at the top of the building that are the problem but rather the broken elevator. (This also brings to mind J.G. Ballard’s novel, High Rise).

Seen in this light, advocates would be advised to promote policies and messages that speak to opportunity rather than outcomes. The point isn’t that everyone should have something, but rather everyone should have a realistic chance to have lots of things, and those with lots of things should be at risk of losing them. It’s about equal opportunity, not equal outcomes.

As an immediate political matter, such an understanding could create the larger narrative structure that has so far been missing from this Democratic president and Congress. Health care reform levels the playing field by opening opportunities for entrepreneurs and ensuring that everyone who gets sick can see a doctor; financial services reform levels the economic playing field and promotes accountability; investment in industry creates good jobs at good wages so that working Americans can again work their way up the system; and so forth. The story is one of a working elevator rather than one of wrecking a nice apartment in which we all believe that we may one day live or a series of patches to crumbling walls.

Earlier this week I overheard a Member of Congress say that he was approached by two members of the Tea Party, one older who expressed concern that Medicare Advantage would be cut and one younger who wanted unemployment benefits extended. The Congressman was clearly frustrated that these constituents both wanted smaller government (his assumption about the point of the Tea Party) and wanted their big-government programs protected. The Congressman’s consternation is understandable, and is based on a flawed assumption about the Tea Party.

The first important caveat is that there is no single Tea Party, no agreed upon manifesto or platform. Tea Party members have a range of ideas and ideologies, got involved in local organizations for a variety of reasons and have different goals for their organizations.

To the extent there is a unifying theme it is not one of policy but rather of process. Members of the Tea Parties around the country share a frustration that Congress and Washington seem out of touch with the challenges facing America’s families. There is a sense that elected officials spend more time sniping at each other than solving the problems of their voters, Congress appears to care more about political points than solutions. And when solutions are developed they are often seen as being the result of insider deals or political trades rather than based on what will most benefit voters. Politics appears to be a game rigged for politicians rather than a means of addressing shared challenges.

Tea Party members are not alone in this. Everyone wants “a seat at the table” and their “day in court.” Most of us are more likely to accept outcomes with which we disagree if we have had a say in those outcomes, we want a decision making process that takes us and our ideas seriously. We distrust and loathe a process that seems rigged or contrived behind closed doors.

While we all want to be listened to, it is more important that we believe we have been heard.

By most measures President Obama has been remarkably successful – he has shepherded critical legislation to reform health care (something no one else has been able to do in nearly 100 years of trying), financial reform, workforce protections, and more. He has stabilized an economy on the brink of collapse, has repaired relationships with allies, and has begun to tackle the federal deficit. Yet, as countless observers have noted, the President’s public approval ratings do not reflect these successes. On a day when the President should have been taking a victory lap for passing legislation reforming the financial industry the press focused on the firing (and subsequent un-firing) of a U.S. Department of Agriculture official.

Earlier this week I was a guest on The Alyona Show on the RT network talking about why there is an apparent gap between President Obama’s legislative successes and the public’s perception of his presidency.

As bears of little brains we have a view of how the world works, and when we encounter new information we drop it into an existing explanation. If we see or hear something new that does not come with its own explanation, we construct an explanation for it. If someone hands us a new object we’ve never seen and says “this is a toy” we’ll play with it; if we’re handed the object without explanation we’ll decide what it is – a toy, a tool, sculpture – and treat is as such, playing with, banging with it, or dusting it, depending on what we decide it is.

The President has failed to construct an explanation for his presidency. He has not told us what the overarching theme, or point, of his actions is. As such, we are left to decide for ourselves. Absent and explanation, we come up with our own. Those who disagree with the President also provide explanations, they tell us the context or meaning of events. Those who think that government is too large point to health care reform and financial industry reform as evidence of their positions. Those who think the President is afraid of issues of race point to the USDA dust-up as proof of their wisdom. Those who think that Fox News is a tool of the political right point to reactions to the President and his policies and say “I told you so.” Without a narrative or context in which to put Presidential action we are left to our own devices or the devices of others. This is not redounding to the President’s advantage.

To regain his rhetorical footing the President needs to articulate a vision or value and use his legislative victories (and stumbles) as evidence of this vision.