Gooseberry's further rules on politics

Gooseberry's further thoughts on all things political.

3. Any message worth repeating is worth repeating, over and over again, redundantly, always saying the same thing.
Effective message distribution is a lot like flood irrigating a field. The message needs to flow out of the head gate and into the community in a way that allows it to spread out and carefully seep down into the roots. It can be a slow, painful process, but once that message hits home it stays and becomes a permanent part of the political psyche. If you turn the water out too hard and too fast, on the other hand, the message only hits a few people, tends to dig out the field, and leaves large portions of the community untouched. One of the best ways to spread the message is to develop a simple, one sentence concept then repeat it, over and over again until you start hearing that same message coming back to you, hopefully, from key decision makers.
For example: Gillette Community College in Gillette, Wyoming was looking for money to build a technology training center on its campus to accommodate the needs of local industry for trained electricians, welders and diesel mechanics. The plans had been developed, the land was identified and everything was ready to go, except for the $27 million needed to purchase bricks, mortar and pay off the contractors. Since very few community colleges have that kind of money sitting around, the school decided to go to the state government for a one-time appropriation. The first year they tried the full-blast drenching approach. They got nothing. The next year they formed a coalition with other schools, and spread their message out in a steady, regular pace, and they kept their message simple, “We need the school to develop a workforce that can keep the revenues flowing into the state’s coffers.” Half way through the effort, Wyoming Governor Dave Freudenthal took at least one lobbyist aside and delivered the message that we needed to fund the school construction because, “we needed it to develop a workforce that can keep the mineral revenues in Campbell County flowing into the state’s coffers.” The next session Gillette Community College got the money it needed to build the school.

2. It’s too late to make a friend when you need one.
I love peanut butter cups. They are chocolate goodness wrapped around sweet peanut butter heaven. I don’t get them too often because when I do I have to share them with my wonderful wife and amazing five children. If you do the math, one of me versus six of them means the closest I usually get to my two great tastes that taste great together is a faint smell emanating from empty wrappers. The best way I have found to get an adequate amount of peanut butter cups to satiate even my hankering is to make friends with parents whose kids have peanut allergies, then, when Halloween rolls around and all of the little munchkins collect bags and bags of peanut butter cups, the parents carefully collect those allergy bombs and give them to me. Those who don’t know of my interest tend to just tragically throw them away.

Another way to look at this is to break down the elements of political action into four main activities: 1. Agenda development (learning the issues and developing your message), 2. Audience Development (identifying stakeholders and making friends), 3. Application of the Agenda to the Audience (the campaign itself), and 4. Accountability (making sure your constituents know how things are progressing). If you neglect any of these items, you will pay the price in long hours and lost opportunities. The most time consuming of these efforts, and yet the most beneficial, is number two, Audience Development.

3. Never throw away a relationship
Once, when I was a fresh young reporter, I was assigned to attend a reception where a major local company was being given an award for being really swell to work with (obviously the entity granting the award was looking for donations). Being a polite young man, I stood in the reception line with all the other attendees and planned on asking just a couple of questions when I came to the front of the line in an effort to enhance the press release I was given to write the story. As I stood in line behind a nice young family, another man came up behind me and began talking to the head of the family in front of me. It turns out he was an important local political figure who was having a very bad day, mainly because the newspaper I was working for had written a story about him that he did not agree with. As the conversation around me developed the man learned I was reporter, and what paper I was working for. I offered to let him go ahead and be with his friends, but he insisted I stay right where I was. For the next fifteen minutes I was subjected to some of the most rude and backhanded comments about me, my family, my dog and my profession that I have ever heard. I swore that if I ever had the chance, I would get even.

Roll the clock forward three years. I am living and working in Washington, DC and this political big-wig is appointed to a position in the Federal Administration. Mr. Big Wig moves into my community, and through pure coincidence is a member of my same congregation at church. My job at church is to help families and provide service, even to people with whom I may have a grudge. I never mentioned the reception line incident to this man, and surprisingly over time came to know him as a good father and a hard-working civil servant. Had I pushed the issue, I am sure I would never have formed a friendship with him or his family. Even though I had the opportunity, I treated him like a human being and have absolutely no regrets about how everything worked out.