In this case, that’s surprisingly unsatisfying.

See, I have felt for years that trying to guilt people into voting by emphasizing how few people vote, and how important it is, and how they’re really bad people if they (like all of those other degenerates) don’t vote…is really, completely ineffective.

And, here, research discussed in Nudge that confirms my practice experience, culled from hundreds of hours spent doing voter registration and Get-Out-the-Vote work, that telling people to vote because not very many other people do is exactly the wrong way to approach increasing voter turnout.

If we want to increase voter turnout (and, from the perspective of nonprofit organizations working with marginalized communities, we do!), what we need to do is channel people into voting, prime them for the voting experience, and, if we can…

make it sound like other people ARE voting, so they should, too.

I thought about this a few weeks ago in class when, despite the oncoming spring, 9 out of the 15 women in my class were wearing the exact same boots.

I mean, in marketing, no company would ever try to convince someone to buy something by stressing its unpopularity (“you should wear boots like these because only 35% of other young women wore them last season”? Not effective.).

We get people to do things, especially things they may have never done before, or may even be reluctant to do, by normalizing the experience, creating a like-minded community, and taking away as much of the uncertainty as we can, in order to make it really, really easy to make the behavior change.

So, what does this look like in the realm of voter engagement, since we want people to shape our electorate, not wear matching footwear?

What if we…

• Had high school seniors register to vote as part of the classroom experience, when they turn 18, so that they’re registering as a group?
• Used voter data to target those who are not engaged in the electoral process, by highlighting others within their social networks/peer groups who are? (“Can I register you to vote today? Your neighbors have really high voter participation, so I figured you would probably want to get registered, too.”)
• Presented examples of reference peers voting, in a sort of micro-targeted ‘Rock-the-Vote’ way?
• Implemented more user-friendly voting procedures, so that voting wasn’t such an extraordinary experience (like allowing online voting, or allowing people to vote in places they frequent (their own schools/colleges, for example) rather than the church down the street they only go in once every two/four years?
• Invested in marketing campaigns that underscore not only the civic importance of voting but, indeed, its centrality to our understanding of what it means to be an American…a sort of, “everyone’s doing this, so we’d love you to join us” message?
• Reached out to underrepresented communities year-round, instead of expecting that they’ll make a big behavior shift right around election time?

What kinds of approaches do you think would ‘nudge’ unlikely voters to civic engagement? How are you shifting from a ‘thou shalt’ to a ‘wouldn’t you like to, too?’ message?

How can we make claiming our civic right as ubiquitous as those boots?

Yes, I’m still talking about the cool ideas that I have taken from books (the actual, printed-on-paper kind, which still have a lot to tell us, even in 2012!) over the past couple of months.

This week, it’s about Nudge, a book that considerably more social-sciencey than I normally read and, nonetheless, completely applicable to my advocacy practice.

And, I think, to yours.

Much of the premise is that what we think are ‘free choices’ are really choices framed by choice architecture, the sets of incentives and disincentives and defaults that outline some options as clearly superior, others as inferior, and still others as seemingly impossible.

The idea, then, is that, if we can frame our preferences such that they are more naturally appealing to those who are doing the choosing, we can shape the likely outcome in less-obtrusive, but no less powerful, ways.

Like the way that my kids are WAY more likely to choose fruit as their snack if it’s already cut and in individual packaging (because then it’s theirs), and at eye-level (even more if there’s no other option, but, then, we couldn’t call it ‘choice’ architecture, could we?)

What this means for advocacy, I think, is that we need to think more about how we get that elusive ‘eye-level’ placement for our policy alternatives. We need to spend more energy making our policy preferences the easiest ones to choose, so that, perhaps, we can spend a bit less energy trying to convince people that they should really, really, really choose them.

Mostly, I think this is about framing, about how we wrap our policy alternatives in the values and preferences of those who will be doing the choosing.

Especially because we believe there are multiple routes to most good ends, can we opt for those that are likeliest to be chosen by our policy targets? Can we use the tax code, for example, to increase low-income families’ incomes? Can we talk about economic security, instead of always talking about poverty? Can we ‘reward work’ and ‘protect families’, because doing so makes policymakers more apt to choose as we would?

But I think looking at policy advocacy as the practice of choice architecture needs to also encompass building better frames, the step before fitting our policy approaches into that framing structure. Much like, quite honestly, those who do not necessarily share social work values have done for decades, which is precisely why the current choice architecture is mostly incompatible with the kinds of policy aims we articulate.

It means that we need to adjust the shelf height, I guess, so that people are looking where we need them to look–at the corrosive effects of income inequality, at the dangers of global climate change, at the need for educational competitiveness.

It means that we can’t rush in to fit our solution onto the current problem definition, because that’s inevitably going to require a tremendous amount of pushing.

It means that, if we do the right work in advance, people should think that our ideas were…theirs.

Freely chosen.

See, if societies grow progressively (no pun intended) less egalitarian as they develop, and if social work’s collective beliefs about the distribution of resources more closely mirror those of the past than today, then what’s the future for our profession? And, of course, for society too?

Evidence suggests that hunter/gatherer societies were more cooperative and less hierarchical because of a clearer sense of interdependence; as natural resources are depleted, will we regain an understanding of just how much we need each other? Will social work values, then, that are obviously more well-suited to ‘flatter’ societal power structures, come back in style?

Or are social workers destined to cope within a dominant value structure that doesn’t reflect our understanding about the way that wealth should be distributed or, perhaps more importantly, about the negative consequences of tremendous inequality?

If that’s the case, then how will we, as social workers, respond? Will we cave to societal norms that devalue redistribution? Will we seek status in order to thrive within that power dynamic, rather than resisting it? Will we spend increasing professional energy dealing with the symptoms of inequality?

Or will we rise to the challenge of turning the tide?

Does it matter, I guess, if we’re ‘out of touch’, if we are true to our value code? Do we, in fact, gain some maneuvering room if we’re operating a bit outside the system? Is there some advantage in being seen, in fact, as distinct, because it helps us to attract social workers who are not only clear about the mandates of the profession with which they are affiliating, but also obviously comfortable with the idea of standing apart?

Will history come around to us, again?

Will we concede?

Or are we content to be anachronistic, since we believe it to be right?

My oldest son wants to be either an archaeologist or a tow-truck driver.

And when he gives that answer to the ubiquitous questioning of well-meaning adults, the response is almost always the same.

They nod when he says ‘archaeologist’ and laugh a bit when he talks about driving a tow truck.

It has always bothered me, the way that I cringe whenever someone jokes to a child about studying hard so that he/she won’t end up sacking groceries, or some other purportedly inferior occupation.

Because, really, who would you rather have around in a crisis–someone who can pull you out of a ditch, or someone who digs for fossils? I mean to say, what makes the former a perfectly respectable job and the latter obviously not, despite the contributions that both make to our overall society?

I don’t want Sam learning the lessons he undoubtedly absorbs from these repeated exchanges, the idea that economic status confers societal legitimacy, and that pursuit of that stature should drive his life plans.

And, so, it was with great parental, as well as policy advocate, interest that I read the part of The Spirit Level that presented evidence that children are more likely to aspire to lower-skilled work in more equal societies, because those jobs are more adequately (and accurately) valued in societies with greater equality.

And, without the stigma that attaches to jobs disdained in our highly unequal economy, kids are free to choose the occupations that seem terrific to their yet-untainted-by-inequality minds.

Like driving a big truck that can carry around big cars.

Setting aside my parental angst, there are policy reasons to care about how the next generation views its work, especially because we’ll always need tow-truck drivers.

With many of the fastest-growing industries those with comparably low wages, we have to confront our ever-increasing demand for occupations that are poorly compensated. Are we content to be a society where those who take care of us are not taken care of? Will some of these most critical jobs, then, continue to be filled by those who couldn’t make it to the truly-valued (although not always as productive) upper echelons?

Or do we want an economy, and a society, where hard work and meaningful contributions are rewarded adequately?

If so, we know how to get there: robust protection of labor laws, strong unions, progressive tax policies to finance a vibrant safety net.

And then we need to stop teaching harmful lessons to children like Sam, especially since we all claim to wish that we had careers that we chose for sheer love of the job, like the way his eyes shine when he sees those strong cranes on the back of a tow truck.

Because you could do a lot worse than to have him come to your aid on the side of the road.

We all could.

This week, I have three posts related to the really excellent book The Spirit Level: Why Greater Equality Makes Societies Stronger. You should totally read the book, which is full of data that turns what we think we know about poverty, and wealth, and well-being, on its head.

But, as usual, this isn’t so much a traditional ‘review’ as it is my reflections on what a particular concept means for me, and, I hope, for us.

Every parent wants a good quality of life for her/his children, right? I mean, I know not just for my neighbors–here in this pretty affluent suburb–but also for the immigrant parents with whom I have the honor to work, it’s the hope that the future holds something promising, and secure, and healthy for one’s children that motivates much of what we do.

But thinking about what the evidence says about real quality of life, and about how to get it, must provoke a reconsideration of our pursuits. Because, increasingly, we know that having more doesn’t mean having it better.

In the United States, especially for those not in the lowest income tiers, we’re reading the limit of what increasing living standards can offer us, in terms of health and life expectancy and all-around wellness.

In fact, we know that, inequality matters a lot in determining how healthy people are, how much they learn, even how happy they feel, even controlling for income.

It matters even more than we want to admit, because acknowledging how important equality is in shaping our own well-being means that we have to spend more collective energy (and public resources) figuring out wealth distribution instead of trying to get as much as we can for ourselves, or even just adding to the total aggregate.

Mental illness rates are higher in societies with more inequality, with even health among higher-income populations affected by overall levels of inequality.

It’s not enough to have ‘enough’ for yourself.

You’re harmed, in some real, tangible ways, as well as some more subtle psychological ones, by the existence of others who have far less than enough.

And less than you.

We know that from data, but we know it from our lived and practice experience too, right?

I see the anxiety around me, from parents who put their 5-year-olds in tons of activities because they want to produce ‘well-rounded scholars’ (yes, they use that phrase) to neighbors who reluctantly acknowledge that they’re in deep debt because of out-of-control spending to couples whose marriages fall apart because of the strain of overwork. I see a harsh side of inequality in the smugness of those who accept mediocrity from our public school system, secure in the knowledge that it’s still better than what other kids get.

It’s not ‘cultural’, this stress and malaise and vindictiveness.

It’s born of the proximity of desperation, and the knowledge that we are but a few ‘failures’ away from the bottom rungs of the economic ladder, which seem like such a long way down. It’s exposed by the tattered safety net and the panicking realization that there’s very little to catch us if, or when, we fall.

It’s a special kind of insecurity that can only be mitigated by building a society where everyone has enough, because we can never hoard enough for ourselves to feel safe.

And that gets me to thinking about our kids, and to facing the awareness that I cannot protect them, as long as I’m only trying to protect them.

Because I want BETTER for my kids, not better like iPads for my 3-year-olds but better like believing that people take care of each other when it’s needed, that belonging to a society comes with certain guarantees, and that no one should have too much…or too little.

In other ways, things have changed very little: I still am a full-time mom most days and a social worker, policy advocate, teacher, and thinker every evening. We have more regular childcare now, so I see sunshine in my work clothes every now and then, but I’m still engaged in many of the same ways, and, unfortunately, on many of the same fronts.

As I’ve alluded to a few times, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll keep blogging here. I absolutely cherish the conversations I have with fellow social workers, with advocates, and with students. I also cherish sleep and not having to multitask quite so ridiculously in order to have my children fed and clothed. So we’ll see. So far, every time I think of stopping, I read something on another blog that prompts my thinking, or I experience something in class or in my consulting that I long to process here.

In looking back, though, here are the 5 most-viewed and the 5 most-commented posts of the past three years, respectively. As you’ll see, there’s relatively overlap, largely because the blog serves different purposes for different people; some of you relish the dialogue, and others come in search of specific information. For all of you, and for us together, happy anniversary!

Most Viewed Posts
What Makes a Good Policy Brief?
Social Work Ethics and Social Media
Ethics and Advocacy
But our path can’t be that easy, or why advocates can’t be Amazon
Agency Advocacy

Most Commented Posts
Value differences and international policy analysis
Social workers as policymakers
The dark side of local government (not really)
Someone should sue!
The future of our female-dominated profession

It’s still Happy Week, and I’ve been thinking about the reasons that I started this blog in the first place, and what I hoped to get out of it, and what it–and, more importantly, the practice of writing it–has done for me over the past few years.

My life has changed a lot over the past 3 years; when I started the blog, the twins were still babies, I hadn’t really started consulting, and, of course, I had 3 kids instead of 4, none of whom were in school full-time.

But, in other ways, it hasn’t changed that much, really. My biggest challenge, then and now, is trying to balance my role as a mom and my passions as an advocate. I still feel pulled into direct advocacy, and then struggle with how family-unfriendly a life that revolves around media work and legislators’ needs is. I still get a huge thrill on the first day of a new semester (and feel like a graduating senior on the last day of class!). I still wish that I had more time to read blogs by really smart people, to get through the ever-growing list of titles to read in my calendar, and to eat a meal uninterrupted.

But, this week, I’m reflecting not just on how I have changed in the time since I started this blog, but also how it has changed me…or, in some cases, kept me from changing. The 6 (2 a year, no?) awesomest things, then, that this blog has done for me, in no particular order.

And, please, because it’s Happy Week: has it done anything even somewhat awesome for you? Would you be willing to share?

• Kept me in touch with former students: It is truly a delight to get a comment from a student I had a few years ago, or to see a former student and hear that he/she has been impacted in some way by our ongoing relationship through the blog.
• Expanded the walls of my classroom: While former students are much more engaged than current ones–likely because they no longer have so much reading to do for class!–it is a real asset to my teaching to be able to use the blog as an extension of a conversation we’re having in the classroom, or as a way to connect my students with other thinkers in and outside of the profession.
• Introduced me to some insightful, passionate people: Some of my favorite people I have never met in ‘real-life’, yet I feel so blessed by the generous way they share their reflections, and even their guidance, online, in their own spaces and here.
• Kept me engaged with scholarship: While I’d never pretend that my writing here is of peer-reviewed caliber, it is such good discipline for me to have to write, and read, regularly, in order to produce content for the blog. Especially with the demands of my family, teaching, and my consulting work, it would be so easy to let those practices slip by, and I believe that I would suffer, personally and professionally, for it.
• Connected me to the social media sphere: I don’t think that I would have embraced social spaces online as thoroughly as I have without the blog; it was definitely my motivation to try Twitter, for example, and it complements my personal Facebook engagement, too. I can’t really imagine my life without those outlets, and those relationships, now, and so I’m grateful.
• Given me an outlet: There’s no denying it; I’m happier now that my husband isn’t the only entity to whom I can vent about policies that are maddening, or rave about organizing campaigns that are inspiring. When I finish a book, I have something to DO, actually, with the sticky notes that I’ve littered it with. And that’s really therapeutic.

  Thank you, those who read and, in so doing, both enrich my thinking and justify my pursuit. YOU are, without a doubt, the awesomest of the awesome things that this blog has brought to me.

  Happy Happy Week, to you!

  
  ]]> http://melindaklewis.com/2012/05/08/happy-week-the-best-things-this-blog-has-done-for-me/feed/ 2 melindaklewis 005 http://melindaklewis.com/2012/05/07/happy-week-the-awesomest-things-ive-seen-lately/ http://melindaklewis.com/2012/05/07/happy-week-the-awesomest-things-ive-seen-lately/#comments Mon, 07 May 2012 13:01:29 +0000 melindaklewis http://melindaklewis.com/?p=3395 Continue reading →]]>

  Image from I Wish This Was

  This is Happy Week! So, then, here are some things that make me super happy/excited/energized/hopeful/inspired.

  What awesomeness can you share?

  IfWeRanTheWorld: What would you do if you could do anything? And can’t we?

  FIXES: Innovative approaches to solving major problems, available in RSS feed every Wednesday…like a dream come true.

  Social Work Activist Reader: There hasn’t been much new content added to this lately, but what’s not to love about anti-racist, ‘justice-centered social work’? Online?

  The Fun Theory: Parenting has taught me how much easier it is to get people to do things if they are fun. Try NOT to smile at the piano staircase.

  Minnesota Idea Open: Ann Wiesner at Grassroots Solutions showed me this earlier this year. Crowdsourcing problems, with the added dimension of geographic-based community. It builds identity and addresses real concerns, and I think it’s pretty awesome.

  I Wish This Was: This reminds me a little of a photography project I did with immigrant teenagers more than a decade ago, when they cataloged what they saw in the community around them, and what they thought it said about what others thought about them. Except even cooler, I think.

  Open Source Leadership Strategies: File this under the category of ‘awesome people who are doing terrific things’, because I met Marisol Jimenez-McGee more than 10 years ago, and I couldn’t be happier to see her sharing her incredible talents in such an exciting way.

  The Montana State Supreme Court: Honestly, if I have to try to convince one more should-be voter that his/her vote DOES still matter, in the wake of the Citizens United ruling, I might scream. Thank you, Montana, for meaningful campaign finance limits.

  Nonprofit Vote: The good people at NonprofitVOTE are on my happy list for sending me emails every week with resources to help nonprofit organizations engage their clients as voters. I even appreciate their exhortations, because I just love their incessant emphasis on our responsibility to shape the electorate. Love them.

  
  ]]> http://melindaklewis.com/2012/05/07/happy-week-the-awesomest-things-ive-seen-lately/feed/ 0 melindaklewis i-wish-this-was-a-grocery-with-fresh-produce-and-pumpkin-pie6 http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/30/organization-culture-advocacy-and-free-spaces/ http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/30/organization-culture-advocacy-and-free-spaces/#comments Mon, 30 Apr 2012 14:26:49 +0000 melindaklewis http://melindaklewis.com/?p=3386 Continue reading →]]> These days, I have the luxury of existing somewhat apart from an organizational culture. As a consultant, I get to swoop in, sometimes, knowing that my mere presence will shake things up for the organization’s traditional way of operating, and that, within that dynamic, there are new opportunities for change.

  I also get to observe different organizational cultures, which is a very valuable experience. I can often get a quick ‘feel’ that a particular organization is, for example, particularly receptive to an advocacy orientation, or especially concerned about appearances and protocol. In one organization I’ve done some work with, they even started a Transformation Council, to specifically look at how the organization itself needs to change, in order to more fully live its mission. The formation of that council, in turn, has created momentum for change, which is embedding itself now within the organization’s culture (in a way that openness to change begets more openness to change).

  Since much of my work involves helping nonprofit social service organizations integrate advocacy and social change work into their direct service provision, I’ve been thinking about the role of organizational culture in helping institutions make this shift, and about how to use organizational culture as a lever for the kinds of alignments and redirections necessary for the organization to take on this advocacy function as a complement to their services.

  As quoted in Switch, “organizational culture isn’t just part of the game; it is the game”, and I find that that’s no where more true than in trying to get an entrenched organization, and, more importantly, the stakeholders who are entrenched within it, to embrace a new way of seeing those they serve (as co-creators of social change), their services (as bridges to fundamental social transformation), their staff (as catalysts for empowering advocacy), and their organizations (as resources to be leveraged in pursuit of social justice).

  Review of case studies of organizations that successfully tackle change find an important practice in common: the existence of small-scale gatherings where like-minded individuals can exchange ideas without surveillance from opposition, including internal opposition. These gatherings allow people to gain strength in unity, somewhat set apart, until they are ready to engage more openly. Applying what social workers know about groups, that’s how cohesion, and the norms that accompany it, set in, so that, in this case, before there is an effort to unleash the new ideas on the larger entity–the organization–they have rooted themselves within a part of it, demonstrating, of course, in the process, that the sky will not fall down.

  Understanding the critical role of these ‘free spaces’ within organizations, and the role they play in successful organizational culture shifts, doesn’t necessarily tell us how to build them. Or, perhaps more accurately, how to permit them to grow, since there’s a certainly organic element implied. They are in some ways like the learning circles used in the Building Movement Project’s model, except that, here, there’s a greater willingness to let only those staff members enthused about social change cluster together initially. In some ways, because of the appearance of distance from the rest of the organizational apparatus, they have a sort of ‘cell’ quality, which means that organizations, and these actors within them, will have to get at least a little comfortable with tolerating some dissent and division on the road to a larger purpose.

  Have you been part of a ‘free space’ within an organization? What did it look like and how did it function? Organizational leaders, what do you do to cultivate this learning circle approach, and what within your organizational culture supports or resists those efforts? And social service agency change agents, when have you attempted organizational transformation without the benefit of this ‘incubator’? How do you think it might have made a difference?

  
  ]]> http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/30/organization-culture-advocacy-and-free-spaces/feed/ 4 melindaklewis http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/26/see-feel-change/ http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/26/see-feel-change/#comments Thu, 26 Apr 2012 14:18:59 +0000 melindaklewis http://melindaklewis.com/?p=3378 Continue reading →]]> I’m still thinking about change.

  About how we understand it. In order to spark it.

  Even though we can never really control it.

  I find that these inquiries lead me to rely more than usual on the ‘social-worky’ side of my self, since a lot of what leads people to change depends, to a great extent, on how they connect–to the people in the movement, to the cause, to their own hopes and dreams.

  It’s really, really not about the cookies.

  One part of Switch that fascinates me is the discussion about the psychological studies of how people make decisions.

  See, the way they describe it, we all think that we’re “analyze–think–change” types. In the policy world, too, policymakers always tell us they want more data. But when do they listen the most attentively? When someone tells them a story.

  Because they, like us, are really more “see–feel–change”. We respond best to what hits us in our gut, to what we see vividly from a reference of our own experience, to what moves us emotionally even when our brains may not be ready to go anywhere.

  This isn’t the same thing as relying on fear or anger or other somewhat negative emotions to catalyze action. We can feel empathy and hope and excitement just as powerfully, and the evidence suggests that they can spark change just as surely.

  And it goes without saying that our thinking isn’t totally marginalized in the process. What we feel is shaped in part by what we believe, which is the culmination of many thoughts we’ve had, that becomes our way of seeing the world.

  But this see–feel–change process does point us in a different direction, for our policy communication efforts, than we often believe would be most effective. It suggests that the stories that we tell are even more important than the data that we amass, and that wanting people to know something is not, at its core, the same as wanting them to do something.

  Here’s what I think it means, for how we talk with people about the problems we face and the policy solutions they demand. And, perhaps even more importantly than how we talk with people, here’s what I think it means for how we show people what’s going on in our community and why they are an essential part of those same solutions.

  • We can’t be so afraid to get people upset. I mean, sure, not instantly alienating our policy targets is always a good idea. But we need people to be somewhat agitated, if we’re going to get them to action. So when things are raw, we can’t be afraid of that.
  • We need to think creatively about what people need to see, and the kinds of emotions we want to prompt. Remember the piles of shoes from Auschwitz? And the way you feel when you see them? Obviously our problems today are not on that scale, but there are still vivid visuals that tell our stories, and we need to bring them into the communication.
  • We need to acknowledge our own emotions. We can’t expect to move people to action, through their felt response, if we are analytical robots who deny the ways in which we’ve been moved to this work. That means telling our story, too, and, when we’re angry or sad, saying it.
  • We need to acknowledge what we don’t know, or can’t yet understand. Sometimes we are so afraid to admit any weakness that we have to pretend that we’ve answered every question, when the truth is that we’re just figuring out what to ask. But we know how we feel, and why it’s not OK, and that has moved us to do something about it. We need to create spaces for others to accept the limits of their analysis, too, and to take the first step anyway.

  When have you been moved to act, in the advocacy arena, based on how you felt about what someone helped you to see? Or, perhaps more importantly, can you remember when a piece of data, or some analytical conclusion you reached, is what prompted your advocacy?

  We don’t make pro and con lists for most of the biggest decisions in our lives. It’s the same with trying to right a wrong.

  We see.

  We feel.

  And we do.

  
  ]]> http://melindaklewis.com/2012/04/26/see-feel-change/feed/ 0 melindaklewis