Otis White

The skills and strategies of civic leadership

A Better Way of Judging Candidates

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As I write this, America is in the middle of a fever dream over who should be the next president. Every four years, Americans endure an astonishing amount of foolishness from our politicians, and this election has already served up way more than its share. Sorry, I can’t fix America’s crazy electoral system. (Pray for us.) But I do have some experience in making thoughtful decisions about people running for mayor, city council, county commission, school board, and just about any other local elected position.

It involves pulling together a group that cares about local politics, thinking a bit about the offices up for election and what they demand, creating a fair process of evaluating the candidates for these offices, then creatively engaging voters in a conversation about what it takes to be a good officeholder. What the group creates, in effect, are job descriptions for elected officials. And that act alone is a big step forward—for the group and (depending on how effective it is at engaging the citizens) the voters as well. I know. I’ve seen this approach work in two different cities. It might work in your city, too.

I was launched into this sideline in 2001 when the Metro Atlanta Chamber of Commerce asked my help with one of its affiliate organizations, the Committee for a Better Atlanta, whose sole purpose was to evaluate candidates for local elected office. Most of the time, the Committee slumbered. It awakened for a few months every election cycle, interviewed candidates, announced its findings, then went back to sleep. In that period, it worked like a newspaper editorial board or the endorsement committee of a political interest group: sitting down with the candidates, listening to their ideas, asking about things of interest to the group, then announcing who should get the job.

But two things were different in 2001. First, the Metro Atlanta Chamber did not want the Committee for a Better Atlanta to be seen any longer as just another interest group. After all, the chamber represented the region’s entire business community, not just one self-interested industry. And the Committee’s makeup was broader even than the chamber’s, pulling in a number of other business groups. The result was a diverse coalition of organizations concerned about Atlanta’s future, with a particular interest in its economic well-being.

The second difference was the election itself. In 2001, Atlanta was in a crisis. The mayor, Bill Campbell, had been indicted and would, in time, be convicted and sent to prison. The city faced huge financial and infrastructure challenges, much of which did not interest Campbell. The chamber and the Committee’s leaders felt the city could not afford another corrupt or indifferent mayor. They wanted this round of endorsements to make a difference.

So they asked me: Did I have any ideas that could help the Committee with its work? I’ll spare you the details, but the first thing I suggested was that the Committee meet and agree on its purpose and how it wanted to work. The results: It wanted to influence the election, it wanted to evaluate candidates in the fairest way possible, and its members were open to doing things differently.

This was helpful because I thought the three were connected. The best way to influence the election in a positive way, I felt, was to be transparently fair. And the best ways of being fair were to evaluate the candidates in a different way and present the results in a different way.

Wouldn’t it be better, I asked, if the Committee didn’t just announce to voters whom they should vote for but rather began a conversation about what makes good elected officials? One of the Committee’s co-chairs eventually came up with the right analogy: Maybe we could evaluate candidates the way Consumer Reports rates automobiles.

Consumer Reports doesn’t endorse cars. It defines the attributes of a good car (reliability, safety, performance, comfort, fuel economy, and so on), then tells you how each model performed in each category. If you valued reliability above all else, you could compare the models just for that. If performance and comfort were your things, you could look just at those scores. Want to put all the attributes together? Consumer Reports offers an overall score.

If we could bring this approach to judging candidates, we decided, the Committee could accomplish all we were seeking. It could engage voters in thinking about what makes good candidates for local office. It could point them toward the good ones by offering its assessments. But it could do so in a way that would seem fairer, because . . . well, it was fairer. This new approach began by judging everyone by a set of reasonable criteria. If two candidates were close in their qualifications and positions, that would be clear. If a third was woefully inadequate, that would be obvious as well.

This seemed like a breakthrough, but this was actually the easier part of our new approach. We had an innovative form, but what would be its contents? If Consumer Reports thought safety, reliability, comfort, and fuel economy were the elements of a good car, what were the elements of a good candidate? So we went back to the group with this question: What do you value in an office seeker? In other words, if you were writing a job description for mayor and city council members, what would you include?

The answer that emerged was that most members looked for two things: political positions and personal qualities. That is, they wanted elected officials who did the right things (and their positions would tell you what they wanted to do). But they also wanted officeholders who could accomplish what they set out to do and do so in the right ways, which has to do with ability and character.

The positions weren’t that hard to figure out. Given the city’s problems and Campbell’s shortcomings, this group of business people was focused on better city management, infrastructure investments, public safety, and stronger government ethics.

But the personal qualities were more difficult to define. After much discussion, Committee members came up with three attributes:

  • Does the candidate have a vision for the city and a personal vision of what she can accomplish in a four-year term?
  • Does the candidate have a set of experiences and qualifications that could make her effective as an elected official?
  • Could she actually accomplish the things she wants to do? In other words, once in office does she have the ability to implement the vision?

Once we knew the issues and qualities, what remained were mostly logistical questions. Among them:

  • How could we phrase questions so candidates would answer them thoughtfully and candidly? And, specifically, which questions should we ask in person and which could be answered on questionnaires?
  • How should we organize the in-person interviews? Should candidates be rated after each interview, or should the panel wait until all candidates were interviewed and then rate them as a group?
  • What should we do about candidates who couldn’t or wouldn’t appear before the panel?
  • Once the ratings were complete, how should we present the findings to the voters and explain our rating system?

Finally, there was the rating scale, which touched off a lively debate. I thought it should be on a 1-to-10 scale or maybe 1-to-5, but Committee leaders felt strongly it should be a 1-to-100 scale, since that felt more like the grades people remembered from school. So that was that. And if a candidate didn’t show up? He got an N/A, which stands for “not available.”

Microsoft Word - 2001_05_31 Proposed candidate evaluation matrix

How did it look in practice? Before we started the evaluation process, I offered the Committee a mock-up, using my name and the names of three chamber employees. Here’s how it looked.

We held the interviews at a hotel in downtown Atlanta. We did a training session with Committee members before the candidates arrived, including a mock evaluation in which one volunteer answered questions evasively and another completely so members could see the difference. Everyone who was a Committee member (and my recollection is that it was a big group, perhaps 40 or more) sat in on the interviews for mayor and city council president. Then we divided them into panels for the city council races. They filled in their evaluations after all the candidates in a race had been interviewed. For such an unfamiliar approach, it went surprisingly smoothly.

One reason was that we had spent a lot of time thinking about the division of questions between the questionnaires, which candidates filled out in advance, and the interviews. Our criteria was this: If the question might reveal the candidate’s ability to reason logically, we asked it in person. Everything else was asked on the questionnaires.

You could see the difference in two questions we asked about infrastructure. The first was asked on the questionnaire:

In your opinion, what are the three greatest infrastructure problems facing Atlanta over the next four years? Please rank them in terms of expense and urgency. (There was space for three—but not more than three—answers.)

In the interviews, we asked a second infrastructure question:

In the questionnaire, you identified the three greatest infrastructure problems facing Atlanta in the next four years. Taking a look at the one you ranked as most important, please tell us how you would address this infrastructure need—and how you would pay for it.

We knew the Committee for a Better Atlanta was made up of business people who had long experience in looking at resumes and then drilling down in interviews for a job seeker’s problem-solving abilities. So that became our guide: Let background and big ideas be spelled out on the questionnaires and let the “how” parts be explored in person. (Actually, I think this approach would work for almost any group.)

When we were finished with the interviews, which took place over two days, we had the candidate scores and a good story to tell about our process. Then we had to figure out how to present these things to the voters.

Today, this wouldn’t be much of a mystery. You’d create a cool-looking website, with the ability to compare the candidates and explore the issues. You would have a page about the process and how it worked. You might include videos of the interviews, along with the questionnaires and candidates’ answers. You’d have short bios and links to the candidates’ websites. You might have interactive features (build your ideal candidate!) and places for comments and questions. And, of course, you’d have a marketing campaign to catch the voters’ attention.

But this was 2001. The iPhone hadn’t been invented. Netflix wouldn’t start streaming movies for another six years. Many people had access to a slow version of the internet but not everyone. We decided, then, that a booklet was the best way to present the information, something that could be inserted into a newspaper a week before the election. Then we called a press conference on the steps of Atlanta city hall to announce our new approach to rating candidates. (Hey, this was the way things were done in simpler times.)

In the end, did it work? Did the Committee for a Better Atlanta really influence Atlanta’s 2001 elections in a positive way? Oddly enough, the chamber wasn’t as interested in this question as I was. And, in truth, there are limitations to knowing how much impact a single group’s efforts can have on an election.

I tried my hand at answering the question in two ways: First, anecdotally; then by doing a little math. I started by looking at whether there were any surprises in the endorsements. That is, whether the new approach had caused Committee members to look at the candidates in a different way. And I thought it had, at least for the two most high-profile positions, mayor and city council president.

In both cases, the Committee rankings had surprised me. The two who scored highest for mayor and city council president were Shirley Franklin and Cathy Woolard. Both were less familiar to business leaders than their rivals and generally viewed as less business friendly. So something in the process had caused this group to consider the candidates in a more open-minded way. That, I thought, was significant.

Then I looked at who won the election and how the Committee had ranked them. The candidates with the highest rankings for mayor and council president (Franklin and Woolard) had won their races. But what about the council members? As I told the Committee in a post-election analysis: “Congratulations. You now have the city council you wanted.” Of the 15 council districts, nine had contested races. Of those, seven went to the candidates rated highest by the Committee. And the other two districts were won by candidates ranked exceptional (90 on a 1-100 scale) or acceptable (73).

Together with the incumbents who did not have opposition (and, interestingly, they wanted to be rated as well; all of them showed up for interviews), the average score of the city council incumbents who took office in January 2002 was 89 out of 100. So, yes, this was the council the Committee had hoped to elect.

None of this proves causation, of course. I couldn’t say the Committee’s ratings caused a candidate to win her race or her opponent to lose. But it was possible. (Among other things, we knew that the Committee judgments influenced how business groups contributed to candidates.) At the very least, I thought, it reassured one influential group that it would have a much, much better city government than it had endured under Bill Campbell.

So, what has happened to the Committee for a Better Atlanta since 2001? There’s good news and bad. The good: It retained the Consumer Reports-style approach of grading candidates along issues and qualities. So if two rivals are close in their issue positions and abilities, that’s obvious from the ratings. If they’re miles apart, that’s apparent as well.

The bad: It no longer gives much detail about the ratings so you can’t tell where the candidates succeeded and where they came up short. That’s a shame because the ability to drill down on issues and qualities was, I thought, the key to engaging the voters about what makes a good officeholder.

And this conversation, conducted over time, can be more important than any single election. The aim should be to help citizens make consistently good choices in the voting booth. And the way to do that is to apply something we’ve learned in the business world: that it helps if you focus on the job before you consider the candidates. The critical first step in doing that, of course, is to write out a job description. Everything that follows should be about how the candidates measured up to that description. If we leave out the detail, I fear, then we’ve lost the job description.

Footnote: I got a second opportunity to run this experiment in judging candidates a few years later, when a civic group in Memphis (again, made up mostly of business people) contacted me. A critical county commission election was ahead, and the group’s leaders wanted to know if a process similar to the one we used in Atlanta might work in a city even more divided by race, class, and geography.

We went through the same process with the Memphis group (define the issues and qualities, judge the candidates by those standards, then engage the voters). The leaders there even chose a similar name (the Coalition for a Better Memphis). The issues were different, of course, but most of the qualities carried over.

One difference: This was a startup group, so Coalition members began a bit more skeptically than the Atlanta group, which had long practice in working together. But when they saw how deliberate and fair the evaluation process was, they were won over. So were the candidates as they learned about it.

And the results? The scores of the winning candidates in Memphis were even higher than the city council scores had been in Atlanta. So I told the group, in my post-election analysis, repeating what I had told the Committee in Atlanta: Congratulations. You now have the county commission you had hoped for.

And what has happened to the Coalition? I’m happy to report it’s still around and still rating candidates using the system we pioneered. I can’t say how effective it has been in maintaining its conversation with the voters.


Photo by WFIU Public Radio licensed under Creative Commons.

How to Build an Army of Supporters

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My favorite quote about change comes from that notorious 16th-century cynic Niccolo Machiavelli. “There is nothing more difficult and dangerous or more doubtful of success,” he wrote, “than an attempt to introduce a new order of things in any state. For the innovator has for enemies all those who derived advantages from the old order of things while those who expect to be benefited by the new institutions will be but lukewarm defenders.”

There are two parts to this quote. The first is that change is hard. The second is why change is hard. Those asked to give up something will fight it tooth and nail, while those who might benefit will be “lukewarm.” After all, how can they value something they don’t already have? But I take a third lesson from Machiavelli’s quote, which I think he would have agreed with: If you want to change something important, you’d better come with an overwhelming case and an army of supporters.

So how do you make a case for change and build an army out of “lukewarm defenders?” Over the years I’ve talked with scores of civic leaders who’ve created successful civic projects, many of which involved significant changes by their cities. They all did two things you can easily imagine: They found ideas or solutions that worked (these were the projects they championed) and built a set of relationships that created political and public support.

Many did a third thing that propelled their projects forward: They spotted a breakthrough, a change of circumstance that, for a moment at least, opened the door for change. (In an earlier posting, I called these things “the opportunity.”)

But there’s a fourth element, I’ve learned, that can also be critical to success, and that is articulating the “why” of change. This is the element that transforms lukewarm defenders into an army of supporters, and it does so by answering this question: Why do we need this change?

What, then, do we need to know about articulating the “why?” Here are three good starting points:

“Why” is not the same as “what.” That is to say, the project is not the motivation; the “why” is always more basic. The best way of illustrating this is with an example. Mayor Nancy Harris of Duluth, Georgia has been a longtime champion of the arts and urban design in her suburban Atlanta city. For most elected officials, the projects she has supported—from downtown renewal to performing-arts facilities—would need no further explanation. But Mayor Harris always ties the arts and urban design to a bigger goal: attracting talented young people, especially couples with small children, to live in her city.

“Why” builds trust by making connections. Anytime we take on something new we are, by definition, journeying into the unknown. The way to give heart to our fellow pilgrims is to connect it with something familiar. Again, Mayor Harris offers a good example. There are many people who don’t understand or appreciate the arts, she says, but nearly everyone in Duluth understands the need for young people . . . and the connection between young workers and economic development.

“Why” must be both critique and vision. It can’t be just about what could be; it also has to tell us why we can’t stand still. Mayor Harris often reminds citizens that, without more young people, Duluth will age rapidly—and, therefore, will be less appealing to businesses.

Will having a well-considered “why” ensure success for your project? Not by itself. You still need good solutions, strong relationships, and perhaps a breakthrough opportunity. But it can motivate your “lukewarm defenders.” And this, as Machiavelli might say, can make change less difficult and dangerous . . . and more likely to succeed.

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by Bart Everson licensed under Creative Commons.

A Beginner’s Guide to Facilitation

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If you’re a civic leader, chances are that you’ll have to facilitate a meeting. It could be for a community task force or an intergovernmental planning group. It might be a community visioning meeting or a nonprofit board planning retreat. However it happens, don’t be surprised to find yourself managing a group of people who are struggling toward a decision.

You know how decision making works inside an organization or within a political setting, of course. A group makes a proposal, another group might argue against it, and a third group (the boss, the board, the city council) decides.

Well, put aside that image. In the meetings I have in mind, there’s just one group, which explores the issue, discusses different solutions, and comes to a decision. If you’re the chair (or if the chair has asked you to facilitate), it’s your job to get this group through its fact-finding and discussion and to a decision.

So how do you do that?

I’ll offer some pointers below, but first let me tell you why facilitation is growing in importance: We need more collaboration. Cities are increasingly archipelagos of dispersed power, and to bridge these islands of influence, we need people who can help independent decision makers think and act together. That can be you.

Here, then, are some of the basics of structure, process, and coming to decision. Consider it a beginner’s guide to facilitation.

Structure: There are three cardinal rules: Deal with the present before the future, the outside before the inside, and the “what” before the “how.”

If you have a day-long retreat, spend the morning discussing the current situation: basically, how we came to this place and how we’re positioned to deal with the issues we face. Many strategic planning sessions start out with a SWOT analysis (which stands for strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats). This can help participants understand the present before talking about the future.

If you do a SWOT analysis, be sure to begin with the “OT” parts, the external opportunities and threats, before the “SW,” the internal strengths and weaknesses. This will help focus participants on the issues they face and avoid getting bogged down in blame-casting.

As the discussion moves to the future, you’ll want the group to set goals before discussing strategies. This is harder than it sounds because most of us live in the “how” parts of our jobs, not the “what” parts. But if the group gets sidetracked by the details of doing, it will never focus on setting goals.

Process: The most basic thing participants want in an important meeting is to be heard. Not just listened to, but heard and acknowledged. So find ways of doing this.

When I facilitate meetings, I write down what people say on large flip charts. Others use laptops with overhead projectors. This isn’t just procedural. Recording what people say in such a visible way moves the meeting along, as people tend not to repeat themselves when their comments are on display. It also helps the group see connections among ideas, and that can help with decision making.

Coming to decision: As the group discusses the future, try framing what participants say as alternatives. As these alternatives are fleshed out, post them on a wall, adding details as the discussion moves along. At some point, it may be obvious which alternative the group prefers.

If not, you can ask the group to vote. Roll calls work, but a better way is dot voting, especially if there are a number of alternatives. You know the drill: You hand participants some colored dots and ask them to vote for the solutions they think are most viable.

Dot voting is transparent, interactive, and surprisingly enjoyable. You’ll be impressed by how seriously participants study the alternatives. And when it’s done, the group’s decision will be as plain as the dots on the wall.

The Temperament of Great Leaders

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Most of the qualities of a good civic good leader, I’m convinced, can be learned. A reasonably empathetic person can master the arts of relationship building, group management, and persuasion. An observant person can learn the processes behind public policy and, in time, see opportunities for action. With a little modesty, a good leader can find her role and, with a little audacity, fill it brilliantly.

But there’s one quality that the best leaders possess that I don’t think can be learned easily. And that is temperament. It’s an old-fashioned word that refers to a person’s nature or disposition, especially as it affects his or her behavior. And the temperament that the best leaders possess allows them to “quiet the self.”

The term comes from David Brooks, the New York Times columnist. He says it is the ability to “step out of the game” when criticized or insulted. “Enmity is a nasty frame of mind,” Brooks wrote not long ago. “Pride is painful. The person who can quiet the self can see the world clearly, can learn the subject and master the situation.”

Most of us can’t do this. If attacked, we inflate with anger. Our impulse is to strike back, quickly, with a cutting remark. What we learn is that, rather than ending the attack, it only escalates the conflict.

Or maybe we don’t strike back but seek revenge, using our positions to get even. A former president once went down that road. And, well, we know what happened to Richard Nixon.

Unfortunately, local governments are filled with those who can’t forget a slight or resist the impulse to strike back. I know of one elected official who no longer speaks to newspaper reporters, communicating only through emails that are filtered through an assistant. He then posts these emails online—as “the truth.” If asked, I’d offer one word of advice to him: Resign. He’s not cut out for this work.

That’s because being criticized in public life is like being hit in football. It’s not a flaw in the system; it’s a feature of the system. We give everybody a voice in politics in the belief that, in the din, the right way forward will emerge. But to get there, we have to endure a certain amount of nonsense and nastiness.

Successful leaders learn how to manage their reactions to the nastiness. Abraham Lincoln wrote what he called “hot letters” to his critics, then stuck them in a drawer with the inscription: “Never sent. Never signed.” Thomas Jefferson suggested cooling off by counting not just to 10 but to 100.

Some recommend a three-part response to being attacked in public: Listen politely, don’t get defensive, and ask for time before responding. This allows for a more thoughtful (and calmer) response.

But techniques can take you only so far. The best leaders do something deeper and better. They look at tense situations as if they were observers who are removed in time. They see their interests and those of their critics, and because it doesn’t feel personal, they react as calmly as actors on a stage. Attack these leaders, and they smile.

It unnerves their critics—just as it rattles other teams’ players when NFL quarterback Andrew Luck congratulates them for sacking him. Here’s how one cornerback described what it felt like when Luck popped up and said to him, “Great job!” “You know if you hear a quarterback get mad, you are in his head,” he said. “With Luck, you thought you hurt the guy, you hear ‘good job’ and you just say ‘aw, man.’ “

That’s what you want to hear from your critics as well, when you smile at their insults. “Aw, man.”

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by Sarah licensed under Creative Commons.

Units of Civic Progress

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In March, Mayor Bob Buckhorn dedicated the latest section of Tampa’s Riverwalk, which now stretches nearly two miles down a river and along a channel leading to Tampa Bay. As he cut the ribbon, Buckhorn said something that must have puzzled some in the audience: “This is a day that we have waited for, for decades.”

For decades? Actually, yes. You see, the Tampa Riverwalk was proposed in 1975 by then-Mayor Bill Poe . . . as a Bicentennial project. The Bicentennial was in 1976. The Riverwalk has, well, taken longer than expected.

By all accounts, the Riverwalk is spectacular. It loops under a bridge and over the Hillsborough River, giving strollers the sensation of walking on water. It ties together several parks and museums, a performing arts center, and the city’s convention center. It offers downtown Tampa a gathering place it has long needed, and it has already sparked development of new restaurants and nightclubs.

But why did it take 40 years to complete? The simple answer is that it was more or less forgotten for 30 years before another mayor, Pam Iorio, revived it and drove it to completion.

But the more interesting story is this is how many great civic projects proceed, in fits and starts. That is, they are launched with a bang, only to lose momentum and fall into a deep sleep until a new leader comes along and figures out how to revive them. It’s a little like Prince Charming. But instead of a kiss, the new leader applies strategy, persuasion, persistence—and an occasional kick in the pants.

This is just one of the surprising patterns I’ve found in the last four years from interviewing leaders of successful civic projects. Here’s another: The leaders learn almost exclusively on the job.

This is puzzling considering how important these projects are. Civic projects are a basic unit of progress and, really, the only way cities make purposeful changes. Think about your own city and its milestones. They might include things like creating a modern transit system, building a new art museum, overhauling the government’s structure, bringing in professional sports . . . or building a riverwalk. Each of these things was a civic project, with a beginning, middle, and end—and clearly defined results.

And, yet, most mayors, city managers, chamber of commerce executives, nonprofit directors, and foundation leaders come to their jobs knowing little about creating these basic units of progress. Why? Because no one teaches it. There are no graduate schools of civic project management, no seminars, no books, not even a website you can visit. And this, I’ve learned, is why many great projects begin with a long hibernation. Once the idea is formed, nobody knows what to do with it.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Civic projects are complex undertakings operating in difficult environments. They require a set of talents and skills that must be assembled: people who can think strategically, apply a jeweler’s eye to tasks and details, and muster the political skills to steer projects around obstacles. Every community has these people. What they don’t have is a template for putting these efforts together.

Want to do your city a favor? Find an organization willing to create just such a template (or set of templates) by interviewing the leaders of successful civic projects. Then make the templates widely available, so the next mayor with a great idea doesn’t have to wait 40 years to watch his city walk on water.

A version of this posting appeared on the Governing website.

Photo by Matthew Paulson licensed under Creative Commons.

About Otis White

Otis White is president of Civic Strategies, Inc., a collaborative and strategic planning firm for local governments and civic organizations. He has written about cities and their leaders for more than 30 years. For more information about Otis and his work, please visit www.civic-strategies.com.

The Great Project

Otis White's multimedia book, "The Great Project," is available on Apple iTunes for reading on an iPad. The book is about how a single civic project changed a city and offers important lessons for civic leaders considering their own "great projects" . . . and for students in college planning and political science programs.

For more information about the book, please visit the iTunes Great Project page.

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