Tag Communications Network

Miscellany.

A few odds and ends that don’t make a whole post in themselves, but are deserving of attention.

★★★

Michael Lopp, of Rands in Repose fame, has a great piece on how he uses email. He discusses subject lines, message lengths, and editing, but really what he’s talking about is thoughtfulness, and how one might use an oft-abused medium more elegantly. Definitely worth a few moments of your time.

★★★

The Communications Network is an affinity group of foundation communications professionals. Or at least it was until their recent conference, where they announced that they planned to expand their mission, and their membership, to nonprofit communications more generally. As someone who consults with foundations, I’ve been an member of the Network for many years, and have always felt welcomed at its conferences and impressed by the content they share. Expanding the Network seems like a logical next step for the organization, and I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

★★★

Merlin Mann is thinking about his value as a keynote speaker. As someone who presents trainings, talks and workshops on a wide variety of topics, I found his take on fees, preparation and working with conference organizers illuminating. If you give presentations as part of your working life, or are considering doing so, you should read this post.

★★★

Apropos of my last post about App.net, the service appears to have turned a corner with a recent drop in membership price and the release of an extremely polished client from TapBots, called NetBot. Still not much in the way of a nonprofit presence on the service, but it’s starting to seem like App.net might be around for the long haul.

What will they condemn us for?

It’s hard to believe, but it’s been more than a month since the Communications Network Conference, and I’m still checking off the mental to-do list of deep thoughts with which I wanted to engage. This last one wasn’t even part of the conference, but something I found during my morning trawl through the blogs.

Kwame Anthony Appiah is a professor of philosophy at Princeton, interested in ethics as they are applied in our modern world. The question he poses in his latest book, and in a Washington Post op ed that I read during the conference, is a simple one: what will our grandchildren condemn us for?

This is a subject that I’ve given some thought to over the years, wondering how our understanding of what’s just and right changes over time, and what the terms of debate will be in a hundred years. I have a hunch that future generations will not take kindly to my fondness for hamburgers, for example.

I found Anthony’s anwers to this question compelling, as is his logic for determining which of our (many) failings our progeny are likely to look back on and shudder.

He lays out three criteria for making the decision: first, that the arguments on either side of a debate are familiar; second, that the defenders of a custom rely more on an appeal to tradition (“That’s the way it’s always been”) than moral arguments; and finally, that the supporters of a wrong engage in a willful blindness about the true costs of the practice.

Anthony identifies four aspects of our modern American society that he thinks fit the bill: our prison-industrial complex; our industrial meat system; our treatment of our elderly; and our degradation of the natural environment.

Each of these surely represent a major failing on our part, of course, and I might add to them two others: marriage inequality and our treatment of immigrants. The arguments against the former are based almost exclusively on an appeal to ancient prejudices; those against reform of our broken immigration system rely on a willful ignorance about the economics of our construction industry and agricultural system.

I’ve had the honor of working with groups that I believe are on the right side of history such as Just Detention International, which fights to end sexual abuse in prison, and Welcoming America, which attempts to forge bonds between U.S.-born populations and the immigrants who have joined their communities. Increasingly, climate change seems to me a defining issue of our times, particularly as its contours become clearer and its impact seem certain to fall hardest on countries least able to deal with it.

There’s a danger with this kind of thought experiment, of course, that we argue backwards towards a condemnation of those practices we find personally abhorrent. Several conservative commentators have taken Anthony to task for precisely that failing, while proposing their own, quite different, set of practices sure to horrify future generations.

Still, it’s still an important exercise in my book, particularly for those of us whose work touches so directly on issues of social change.

Where should we be spending our time?

Telling American stories on Election Day.

This Election Day, the causes I care about look set to take a beating. Millions are still unemployed, there’s a pervasive sense that we’re headed in the wrong direction, and many people have thrown in their lot with a group that imagines “creeping socialism” as the root of our problems, believes there’s a crypto-Muslim president in the White House, and pretends that the First Amendment doesn’t separate church from state.

It doesn’t matter that none of these things are true. Conservative communicators have tapped into powerful fears, and their candidates look set to reap the benefit.

The conventional wisdom is that we’re a “center-right nation” and politicians defy this center-rightness at their peril. There’s a counter-narrative to this: that a recession as bad as the one we’ve just been through spells trouble for politicians aligned with the party in power, whether they helped cause the recession or not.

Neither of these ideas are very uplifting and I suspect we’ll have enough bad news when the polls close on November 2. Let’s take a different tack, shall we?

The estimable Molly Ivins once wrote:

“It is possible to read the history of this country as one long struggle to extend the liberties established in our Constitution to everyone in America.”

This quote is not uncontroversial. I know this because it is at the core of my work on the “Telling American Stories” initiative, which has inspired a lot of contentious conversation over the past five years.

The purpose of the “Telling American Stories” initiative is to convince progressive communicators that they’re more likely to win on the issues they care about if they frame their work in a way that taps into deeply-held beliefs about American history and values.

Why should progressive communicators tell these American stories? For three reasons:

  1. Narrative Works
    As Andy Goodman once wrote, “No one ever marched on Washington because of a pie chart.” Humans make sense of the world by constructing narratives, by telling stories that explain why things are the way they are. You can throw around all the science and statistics you want—you can, in short, be objectively right about an issue—but it won’t stick if people can’t fit it into a story. Progressive communicators need to provide that story.
  2. Clear Majority Wins
    Winning on the causes we care about takes more than simply 50 percent plus one vote. Winning any kind of lasting change in our democratic system means assembling a clear majority, which requires reaching out to voters beyond the progressive base. Connecting with those voters means explaining issues in terms they understand and values they share.
  3. We Are on a Path of Progress
    Ms. Ivins was right. It is possible to read American history as a tale of progress. The Revolution was based on the then-radical belief that people had the right to govern themselves. There’s no denying that the founders’ definition of who was entitled to that right was tragically limited, but American history can be read as a slow, sometimes painful broadening of who is entitled to that right, and who gets to be part of the American story. That’s what the women’s suffrage and civil rights movements were about. Today, it’s what gay and lesbian Americans are fighting for when they rally for marriage equality, and it’s what undocumented workers are asking for when they march for immigration reform.

At the Communications Network conference last month, I heard a talk by Sendhil Mullainathan, a behavioral economist who studies how people make decisions. Mullainathan explained that rationality, perhaps unsurprisingly, often takes a back seat to gut feelings and deeply ingrained beliefs about the world.

One of the key points I took away from Mullainathan’s talk was that one of the most difficult things to accomplish in any kind of communications initiative is to change the mental frame that an individual uses to understand the world. It’s far easier and more productive to fit the story you’re trying to tell into their preexisting mental frame.

Not everyone buys the “Telling American Stories” concept. Many people whose opinions I respect would tell a very different version of America’s history, one filled with aggression, oppression, and injustice. They‘re not wrong. But, explaining how we could be living up to our high ideals makes for a more powerful and compelling communications choice than explaining why those ideals were never real to begin with.

What I’m advocating is for progressive communicators to tell the American story that taps into a mental frame that already exists in the minds of a lot of Americans—the very people we need in order to build a lasting coalition for progressive policies. Even if you don’t believe Molly Ivins’ idea about America, you can still believe that explaining progressive causes in terms of the American story makes sense as a communications tactic.

Politically conservative communicators have spent the past 40 years connecting their issues to the American story, and they’ve had a run of successes that looks set to continue at the polls this year. However, it doesn’t have to be that way.

I believe, to paraphrase Dr. King, that the long arc of history bends towards justice. There’s nothing wrong with giving it a nudge in the right direction—and telling American stories is one way we can do that.

The wisdom of crowds and the case for diversity.

LightBox Collaborative was well represented at this year’s Communications Network conference, held in Los Angeles a few weeks ago– Holly, Cynthia, and I had a chance to catch up with colleagues and old friends and make new connections. We also had a chance to hear from some truly compelling speakers, starting with James Surowieki (the financial columnist for the New Yorker) in the opening plenary session.

He spoke about his 2005 book, The Wisdom of Crowds. The general idea is that a crowd, when assembled according to some fairly specific criteria, is able to give a better answer than an expert– and a better one than a group of experts, too, which is counter-intuitive, but Surowiecki has the data to back up his claims. The mechanics of assembling the crowd and effectively aggregating their answers aren’t easy, but the implications are profound.

There were at least half a dozen big ideas in it worth sharing, but I’ll limit myself to three:

Crowds and Market Research. As communications professionals, we’re used to targeting audiences as narrowly as we can, and when we’re researching messages, we often start by assembling a group that looks like our target audience. Surowiecki talked about market research using large, heterogenous groups to arrive at better answers. The key is asking questions that get your research subjects to give their opinions on what other people will think and do. It turns out that people are quite good at understanding their fellow humans, and that by asking a large group, you control for some of the bias and obfuscation that can result when you ask people about themselves.

Fifteen minutes into his presentation, Surowiecki had my attention– and had me questioning one of the basic ways that we do our work as communicators.

The Role of Communicators. To work correctly, smart crowds need to have legitimate independence of thought, something that’s actually quite hard to come by in the real world as we form like-thinking groups in our work and personal lives. And if indepence of thought is so important to optimal outcomes, where does that leave us as communicators, focused as we are on message discipline and repetition to get our ideas heard? This line of thinking points us toward a role as connectors, aggregators and promoters of the best ideas– shaping conversation by activating our large networks of loose connections. All of which aligns with the shift away from mass media to social networks of course, and reinforces the importance of authenticity in our communications work. Think “thought leaders.” Now stop thinking it, because it’s an awful phrase.

The Value of Diversity. Perhaps the most important thing I heard in Surowiecki’s session was a powerful argument for the value of diversity. Smart crowds depend on it, because it’s what gives them their power. A group bringing together people of different backgrounds (socioeconomic, cultural, education level, life experience) comes to conclusions that a more narrowly constituted one–even one filled with “experts” on a given topic– would miss. The diverse group can see into each others’ blind spots and explore a broader range of potential solutions to a problem. Their diversity of background gives the group cognitive diversity, and the ability to reach better solutions because of it.

The mechanics of assembling smart crowds and aggregating their answers are complicated, and I wish that Surowiecki had gone into them further. Applying these lessons to the complex social and policy questions that we most often deal with is also challenging. But the ideas he presented were truly thought-provoking, and worth the price of admission to the conference alone.

And that was just the first session! For descriptions of and reactions to some of the other fine sessions, you might consider checking out Kris Putney Walkerly’s Philanthropy411.org, which brought together a team of bloggers to cover the conference or the conference-related contributions at the Communications Network’s own blog.

Wise crowds, indeed.