A Trip Back to Iowa

Hello! I got back from Des Moines this morning, where I saw friends old and new:

Driving around Des Moines even briefly was a trip down memory lane. I saw the ice rink where we hosted Weezer and hundreds of supporters from around the country for Yangapalooza almost exactly two years ago. I saw the park on the way to Wells Fargo Arena where I stopped to rouse volunteers before speaking at the Liberty and Justice dinner for a crowd of thousands.

Most importantly, I met with staffers and precinct captains who had come to Iowa to fight for a vision of the country that centers on people.

One woman who came to my book talk said, “Thank you for coming back. And thank you for caring about the ordinary person like me.”

I’m glad I went back; I spent so much time there that it would feel odd not to return. My kids associate Iowa with fun in the snow and the science center where they let you actually saw things in half.

My trip to Iowa was a reminder of how great it is to reconnect with people. It’s the main reason why I’m eager to add dates to the Forward Tour – we will be announcing more cities shortly! We have already added an event in New York City on November 13th – that’s a Saturday if a trip to New York is appealing.

This week on the podcast Zach and I talked about something that I think is on a lot of people’s minds – the media. It’s a pretty big theme in my new book; 69% of Democrats trust the media, but only 36% of Independents and 15% of Republicans. It may be one of the defining elements of the parties at this point.

In Forward, I write about the different media incentives that push organizations to be more polarized in their news coverage. Ariana Pekary, an MSNBC producer, noted that they were more likely to show images of flames and violence, and they’d cut away if an event was peaceful. I also write about the demise of thousands of local papers, and social media rewarding sensationalism and giving rise to different versions of the truth.

On the podcast this week we discuss issues that touch cable news in particular: too much time to fill, a visual medium, a tone of judgment, Twitter narratives, etc.

One of the reasons I think so many people are pessimistic about the future of American democracy is that people are discouraged about the state of media. A friend of mine asked, “Where do I go for information I can trust?”

I started the Forward Party because I believe we need a new positive, unifying force in American politics that counteracts the polarization that threatens to tear us apart. We have many exciting efforts coming up – please join up to volunteer today!

But I also believe that we need an analogous positive, unifying force in the media. Messages that lift people up and also instill – and earn – a sense of trust. Indeed, this force in the media would make the political movement much more likely to grow and succeed.

These may be the two great projects of this time. I don’t know about you, but I’m eager to get to work.

- Andrew

American Optimism

Hello everyone! I am writing this from the Forward tour which has been phenomenal. I went on Bill Maher on Friday and had a blast. Then I met some amazing people in San Francisco yesterday:

Also while I was here my first Forward Party swag arrived!

The Bay Area was one of the first places to embrace my presidential campaign, I believe in part because the people here are more attuned to both technology and what is coming down the pike.  It’s a place of heightened possibility due to the culture of entrepreneurship here. 

In contrast, I had a call with a friend this week and she said something that struck me as a pretty good summary of the way a lot of people feel nowadays: 

“It’s like everyone can see the problem but no one thinks we can do anything about it.” 

She was talking about our politics, but she could have been referring to any number of things.
 
I’m an entrepreneur.  Most people find me to be very can-do and positive.  It’s part of what you do as a founder.  You take something that doesn’t exist, tell everyone it should exist, and then go make it happen.

Of course, a lot goes into this process. My first real brush with trying to start a company back in 2000 ended in failure.  It damaged my confidence quite badly, and everyone who knew me also knew that I’d failed.  That’s a feature of starting something new – at some point you tell everyone you know because you need them to help or get excited.  So if it doesn’t work out, it’s unlikely to be a private failure.

I picked myself up and worked for a series of small growth companies, eventually becoming CEO of an education company that grew to be number one in the country.  I saw firsthand how organizations can grow from modest beginnings to significant scale. I’ve been part of a series of unlikely successes, from a non-profit that I founded that grew to a dozen cities to a presidential campaign that grew into a popular movement. 

I try to tell people that entrepreneurship is just solving a problem or making things work better.  If you start a book club or a carpool, that’s entrepreneurship.  Most efforts won’t grow to the sky, but they’re still vital.  

I spent years trying to make entrepreneurship more available and accessible for young people in different communities.  It’s my favorite thing.  It’s magic. 

This is a tough time.  There’s a lot of struggle and a palpable sense of loss.  Lives have been disrupted.  People work remotely and sometimes get depressed (remote work is easier because it’s lower friction but it can also be isolating).  It’s a difficult time to be optimistic. 

Yet that’s when we need it the most. 

I’ve been struck by how much negativity pervades our politics.  There’s a lot of fear, a lot of “That’s not possible.” 

I spoke to a group of business leaders this week.  I said to them, “You would never accept this level of dysfunction in your companies or your industry.  Why do we accept them in our politics?” 

We can do better. We can move Forward.  

American Optimism.  We need more of it.  Let’s provide it. 

I am excited to have on this Monday’s podcast one of the most positive and entrepreneurial people I know, Xander Schultz.  Xander is the co-founder of One for Democracy as well as Give Us he Ballot, two initiatives that are investing millions in voter accessibility and strengthening democratic institutions.  Xander sent me a text a little while ago that gives you a sense of how he thinks:  “This is the first time in human history when abundance is possible and there’s more than enough for everyone.  We have to take advantage of it as quickly as we can.” 

Xander’s sense of optimism grew out of, or despite, personal tragedy.  His father, David Schultz, was a champion wrestler who was killed when Xander was a child.  This was documented in the movie ‘Foxcatcher’ starring Channing Tatum.   

I hope you enjoy this interview as much as I did.  I learn something from Xander anytime I talk to him.  He keeps my head up. 

This week the Forward Tour continues to Irvine, CA and then to Des Moines, Iowa, where I’ve spent a lot of time.  We have added a talk and signing in New York City on November 13th. 

You can of course grab the book anywhere and the swag at forwardparty.com.  

New dates will be announced soon – I’m loving meeting some of the most optimistic and hopeful people around!  Let’s grow the tribe.  See you soon.  

(Not So) Long in the Tooth

Hello and thank you for the support! I’m writing this from the road, where I just finished a book talk in the great city of Chicago:

I saw some amazing people that campaigned with us in Iowa.  It was a wonderful group.  Really pumped me up!  I must have done half-a-dozen rallies in Chicago that just got bigger and bigger.

This week I tweeted something that drew a lot of attention:

The average age of a Member of the 117th Congress is 58.4.  For Senators it’s 64.3.  House leadership is 81 and Senate leadership is 70.

Translation: our leaders are kind of old.

These are only averages.  Chuck Grassley is running again for Senate as an 88 year old.  Dianne Feinstein is 88 and has had reported issues with her energy and facility.  America is a gerontocracy.

Last week I wrote about how we are likely going to have a rematch between Joe Biden and Donald Trump.  They set a record in 2020 in terms of age – between them they were 150.  If there is indeed a rematch Joe will be 81 and Trump 77.

Our system is becoming absurd in terms of the age of our leaders, where the main variable is their health.

Why are our leaders so old?  In terms of electoral politics, a lot of it is that it takes time to build a following.  In many cases, literally decades.  By the time you get into Congress, you might have already been at it a while.  Climbing the ladder could take 10, 20, or 30 years.  Also, individual members have a re-election rate of 92% and the enormous moat of incumbency.

Congress itself is a seniority system.  The only way to assume leadership is to be there for a long time.  Nancy Pelosi got there in 1987.  Chuck Schumer in 1999.

When I spoke to Ro Khanna, who joined Congress in 2017, he said this:

Your power in Congress is very much based on relationships . . . who is going to have the best chance of convincing people to vote for them?  The people who have been in Congress the longest time . . . if you’ve been in Congress twenty, thirty years you probably know 150, 160 members of Congress.  So what you have is actually institutional static, basically a governing institution that is governed by people who won twenty, thirty years ago catering to people who won ten to fifteen years ago, and they actually hold the power in the institutions . . . Congress is being governed by people who won elections in the ‘80s and ‘90s.  The antidemocratic character of these institutions probably isn’t understood enough, that it’s so seniority based.

This has effects both in terms of understanding new developments like technology and data rights and also keeping the same leaders and ideas entrenched in place for eons.  Also, our representatives get progressively detached from the lived experiences of ordinary people.

So what can be done about this?  The obvious answer is term limits.

74% of Americans are for it.  They’re common sense.  If we send you to Washington, you shouldn’t be there until the day you die.  Do work on our behalf and then come home.

There was actually a significant movement toward term limits in the 1990s.  Voters in eight states in 1994 approved term limits for their members of Congress by wide margins.  Then, in 1995, the Supreme Court ruled 5-4 in U.S. Term Limits Inc. vs. Thornton that states could not impose term limits on their own members of Congress.  Also that year, the House of Representatives passed a bill 227 – 204 to impose term limits of twelve years in both the House and the Senate.  This fell short of the 2/3rds necessary to pass a constitutional amendment, but demonstrates just how serious the push was.

We should revive this by putting pressure on newly elected members of Congress to agree to support term limits.  And I’ve got a clever way to make its passage more likely: exempt current lawmakers.  They’re grandfathered in.  But eventually they’d age out while new members are subject to limits.  It would take a bit of time, but both the gerontocracy and the super-seniority system would fade.

If this seems like a worthy endeavor to you, term limits are part of the Forward Party’s agenda.  Let’s get behind leaders who want to do the right thing, including seeing to it that the system rejuvenates itself.  Representatives should do what they can for us and then, with our gratitude, gracefully step aside. Join us at ForwardParty.com.

Next up for the Forward Tour, I am heading to Denver, and then San Francisco and Irvine.  I'll be on Bill Maher while I'm in LA - should be a great time.  If you're in one of those places join us - these events have been amazing!

Biden vs. Trump II

There have been a number of pieces out recently projecting that Trump is going to run in 2024 and that he will be very difficult to stop. 

I agree.  He’s raised over $100 million.  He polls at 65% among Republicans, thirty points higher than others.  His base remains fervent.  And many of his strongest opponents will choose to sit it out rather than lose their luster among the most partisan.  Nikki Haley has already said that she wouldn’t run against Trump.  Ron DeSantis may be the strongest alternative, but Ron is young enough to wait out a cycle rather than risk it all against Trump – and he’s been telling supporters in private he wouldn’t run against Trump.  Trump might draw an opponent like Chris Christie and Mike Pence, but it will likely be a cakewalk.  The biggest obstacles to this in my view are his health – he is 75 – or an unlikely legal prosecution based upon some of his past financial dealings in New York.  

One big variable – does Trump the presidential candidate get his social media megaphones back?  It’s hard to exclude the nominee of a major party or even a contender.  This is an awful thought, to me, as things have felt saner with him off Twitter. 

Let’s say it is Trump.  Who will run against him from the Democratic side?  The logical choice is Joe Biden, the incumbent who already defeated Trump once.  The main issues are that Joe will be 81 and may be visibly flagging by then.  Joe also is relatively unpopular right now for a President at this stage in his administration – he’s running at around 43%, though this could obviously rebound over the coming months. 

Joe characterized himself as a bridge to the next generation.  Does that mean that Kamala Harris would be the most likely candidate in 2024?  Some would love the contrast between Kamala and Trump.  Kamala, however, regularly polls worse than Joe by a few points.  Her one big national foray – her presidential run – underperformed.  The team around her is shifting.  And she seems to have some elements of the political media that aren’t favorable to her. 

Kamala reminds me of Hillary Clinton – a deep blue state Senator who underperformed in a presidential primary and then is appointed to a very senior position by the Democratic President who defeated her.  Her native ability to win a national campaign is a total unknown with the existing data points somewhat discouraging.  Unlike Kamala though, Hillary had a very deep set of relationships among just about everyone in the Democratic power structure. 

Who does that leave?  After you go past Joe and Kamala, you’d likely have to run a competitive primary.  It’s not like they can just look around and say “Our nominee should be . . . Pete!” even if a critical mass of the party decides that’s what they want.  There are also the terrible optics of pushing aside Kamala, unless she were to make it seem that it’s entirely up to her.  It would be difficult to run a competitive Democratic primary in 2024 with a sitting President and Vice President right there – it would make the party seem fractious and introduce uncertainty that Democrats wouldn’t enjoy. 

In my opinion, the Democrats’ best bet might be a candidate like Jon Ossoff, who is a young Senator from a swing state who could energize a lot of voters.  Jon is social media savvy, media friendly and has been through two races that were nationalized with flying colors.  But again, Jon would have to go through a competitive primary that Democrats would, I believe, prefer to avoid. 

So that leads us back to Joe. I believe the biggest variable is Joe’s health.  Joe underperformed in early primary states where there was a lot of retail politicking in part because he wasn’t as strong a campaigner as some others.  He did much better in states where it was strictly TV.  Note that I had a front row seat to this.  Will he have the strength after 3 years of being President?  He would be the incumbent which would have many advantages – most of his campaigning would likely be on television from the White House or other presidential venues. 

One thing that many don’t understand is that Joe’s victory in 2020 was razor-thin; 42,000 votes in 3 states – Arizona, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania – decided the race.  Joe’s massive popular vote win was driven up in blue states like New York and California, and that margin is irrelevant. 

Joe will also likely be saddled with a Republican Congress after 2022.  The in-power party traditionally loses 10 -15 seats in off-cycle elections.  Right now the Democratic majority is only 5 seats, likely to be reduced by redistricting.  Note also that Democrats surprisingly lost 13 seats against Trump in 2020, in what they were hoping was a wave election.  Betting markets have the Republicans retaking the majority in the House in 2022 as a 74% likelihood.  This will almost certainly make Joe’s ability to have major victories to crow about in 2023 and 2024 leading up to the race almost nil. 

If you’re a Democrat reading this, perhaps you are shuddering.  A lot can change on a dime of course.  Maybe the reconciliation package will pass and be so popular that Democrats hold the House.  Maybe one of the people we are discussing could have a major health issue tomorrow. 

But based on what we know, we are likely looking at Biden vs. Trump II. 

I don’t think that would be welcome news to a significant body of Americans who would look up and say, “We’re running this back again?”  The advanced age of both candidates would be historic on both sides.  It truly would be a sign of how sclerotic our system and institutions are. 

But this is where the political incentives will lead. 

This isn’t even the main concern.  Bill Maher makes the case that the issue isn’t who the Democrats run or even what the vote totals look like – it’s going to be the integrity of the system itself and whether people stay home or take to the streets.  In an environment where millions of Americans don’t trust vote counts and can be encouraged to insurrection, the unthinkable is on the table: widespread violence and a contested election. 

The superficial script will be Democrats vs. Republicans.  The underlying challenge will be the continuation of a stable Democracy with peaceful transitions vs. an arena of political chaos in a time of record-high institutional mistrust. 

You can put me in the camp believing that this is a real possibility. 

So what do we do? 

People imagine that I am setting up a third party in order to set the stage for a presidential run in 2024.  That’s wrong.  I’ve founded Forward in order to provide a movement to reform a system that is increasingly setting us up to both fail and turn on each other. 

There has to be a positive, unifying political tribe that acts to reform the dysfunctional system in 2022 via ballot initiatives and elevating aligned candidates.  I hope you’ll join us!  This is our only chance before 2024 to introduce a different political dynamic and free a critical mass of representatives from complete adherence to party dictates.  It may mean the difference between election integrity and civil unrest. 

There is the battle between the 2 major parties.  And then there is the battle to modernize, preserve and sustain a functioning democracy in the time that we have. 

That’s our opportunity.  We don’t have long.  Let’s spread the word and work hard and fast.  2024 will be here before we know it. 

- Andrew

Breaking Up with the Democratic Party

I changed my voting registration from ‘Democrat’ to ‘Independent’ today. It was a strangely emotional experience.

I registered as a Democrat back in 1995 when I was 20 years old to vote for Bill Clinton’s re-election. It was a no-brainer for me. I went to a college that was very liberal. I lived in New York City. Everyone around me was a Democrat. Bill Clinton vs. Bob Dole? Clinton was one of the youngest presidents when he was elected and seemed more in tune to me, as a 20 year old.

Keep in mind that I grew up the son of immigrants and my family did not talk about politics at all growing up. I still have no idea how or even if my parents voted. I have a vague recollection of my Mom watching a debate and saying, “I don’t like him” but I can’t remember who she was referring to. She doesn’t remember either.

Throughout my twenties I remained a staunch Democrat, though like many others I was drawn primarily to national races. I co-hosted a small fundraiser for John Kerry’s campaign at a bar when I was 29 – I think we raised maybe $3,000. I thrilled to Barack Obama’s victory in 2008 and, to a lesser extent, his re-election in 2012. Around this time I was invited to the White House to receive recognition by the Obama White House as both a Champion of Change and a Presidential Ambassador of Global Entrepreneurship as the founder of a non-profit, Venture for America that helped create hundreds of jobs in the Midwest and the South. Bringing Evelyn to meet the President was a lot of fun.

In 2016, I donated to Bernie Sanders’ campaign – everything he said struck me as true – but then voted for Hillary Clinton against Trump.

When Trump won, I was surprised and took it as a red flag and call to action. Having spent six years working in the Midwest and the South I believed I had some insight as to what had driven Trump’s victory. I spent several years making the case for what I believed was the major policy that could address it – Universal Basic Income.

As you’d imagine, as a Democratic presidential candidate, I met a lot of Democrats around the country. Literally thousands. At first, many didn’t know what to make of the odd Asian candidate talking about giving everyone money. But over time I established deep relationships with some of the local leaders who have worked in party politics for years. Al Womble in Iowa, Steve Marchand in New Hampshire, Jermaine Johnson in South Carolina and others.

I also became friends with some of the other candidates out in the field. Cory Booker, Michael Bennet, Pete Buttigieg and Beto O’Rourke are people I’d consider friends who are motivated by the right things. As I’ve become more of a household name, I’ve worked with many senior officials. I headlined several fundraisers for the DNC and participated in fundraising appeals. I was a surrogate for Joe for months.

I spent weeks in Georgia trying to help win the seats for Jon Ossoff and Reverend Raphael Warnock, helping raise millions to do so. I’m proud of helping to activate Asian American voters in what I believed were historic races.

And running for mayor, I similarly met and became friends with activists and elected officials who are longtime public servants on the Democratic side. People like Grace Meng, Ritchie Torres, John Liu, Carlos Menchaca, Kenny Burgos, Vanessa Gibson and Dan Rosenthal are excellent.

Again, I have at this point dozens of friends and confidantes who are entrenched in the Democratic Party. I’ve been a Democrat my entire adult life.

And yet, I’m confident that no longer being a Democrat is the right thing.

Please, keep in mind that I am NOT suggesting that you also change your voter registration to Independent, as I have done. Doing so could disenfranchise you if you live in the 83% of the country that is very blue or very red. For this reason, I considered either not making this change or not talking about it.

So why do I feel in my heart that this is the right move?

While it was simply a small piece of paperwork, I genuinely felt a shift in my mindset as soon as I signed it.

My goal is to do as much as I can to advance our society. There are phenomenal public servants doing great work every day – but our system is stuck. It is stuck in part because polarization is getting worse than ever. Many of the people I know are doing all of the good they can – but their impact is constrained. Now that I’m not a member of one party or another, I feel like I can be even more honest about both the system and the people in it.

The key reform that is necessary to help unlock our system is a combination of Open Primaries and Ranked Choice Voting, which will give voters more genuine choice and our system more dynamism. It will also prevent the spoiler effect that so many Democrats are concerned about, which is a byproduct of a two party system with a binary contest and simple plurality voting.

I believe I can reach people who are outside the system more effectively. I feel more . . . independent.

Also, on a personal level, I’ll admit there has always been something of an odd fit between me and the Democratic Party. I’m not very ideological. I’m practical. Making partisan arguments – particularly expressing what I often see as performative sentiment – is sometimes uncomfortable for me. I often think, “Okay, what can we actually do to solve the problem?” I’m pretty sure there are others who feel the same way I do.

I’ve seen politicians publicly eviscerate each other and then act collegial or friendly backstage a few minutes later. A lot of it is theatre.

I’ve also had people publicly attack me and then text or call me privately to make sure that we were still cool. It just had to be done for appearances.

Perhaps it’s the nature of my upbringing, but I’m actually more comfortable trying to fix the system than being a part of it.

One very senior Democrat member of Congress texted me to say, “I’m sorry to see you go. But I know you’ll do as much good as you can from the outside. And eventually, remember the outsiders become the insiders.”

I’ve got to say it feels really good to be building my own team. This is where I’m most at home.

Recently, in an interview I commented that I wasn’t particularly driven by a desire to hold office. I’m working for impact.

Breaking up with the Democratic Party feels like the right thing to do because I believe I can have a greater impact this way.

Am I right? Let’s find out. Together.

The Priests of the Decline

The following is excerpted from “Forward: Notes on the Future of Our Democracy” published by Crown and now on paperback 

During the six years I spent running Venture for America, my job involved speaking regularly about the mission of the organization — in our case training entrepreneurs and creating jobs in communities around the country. Over time, I became aware that the economy was transforming in fundamental ways that would displace millions of workers, requiring larger changes to society than my nonprofit could address. Our nation’s $22 trillion economy was turning against people, and there’s no nonprofit on earth that operates at that level; the largest nonprofit in the United States has a budget of less than one-hundredth of $1 trillion.

Despite my epiphany, it was very difficult to acknowledge this thinking in my role. My job was to motivate people and to be grateful. People were volunteering, working hard, and donating money every day to keep the organization going. And we were doing phenomenal work that was changing lives. I had to be a can-do guy. The last thing I, as the CEO of a nonprofit, could do would be to stand up and say, “The problems are getting worse, not better.”

There are many people stuck in versions of this same situation. You do good work. You’re proud of it. But part of you knows, “There are deeper problems here than I can solve.”

One example of this is schoolteachers. We expect schoolteachers to do amazing work. Millions of teachers do just that every day. But the data shows that two-thirds of our kids’ educational outcomes are determined outside the school by many external factors: number of words read to the child when they’re young, parental income, parental time spent with the child, stress levels in the house, quality of neighborhood, and so on. Teachers know this. Imagine being asked to do a very important job when you know that you can control only about one-third of the result.

The economist Eric Weinstein has posited that our failing economic system is making liars out of many people. Two examples he cites are academia and law firms. In academia, it used to be the case that someone could go to graduate school, get a PhD, get an academic post, and aspire to a full-time professorship. But today, tenure-track positions have dramatically shrunk in number relative to the supply of graduates. Since 1980, the number of teaching positions has increased by more than 100 percent, but the number of tenure-track positions has increased by only 22 percent. Most academics will never get tenure or even be considered. PhDs keep getting produced every year, though, so the vast majority leave the field or become underemployed as permanent underpaid adjuncts in a sort of nebulous purgatory.

The same dynamic is playing out in the legal industry. Graduating law students incur well over $100,000 in school loans. I owed about $120,000 myself when I graduated from law school in 1999. It made sense when you could be confident you’d have a high-paying job waiting for you when you got out of law school. Today’s graduates have far less certainty about their financial rewards, yet their tuition is significantly higher than mine was. Similarly, young attorneys agree to work themselves to the bone for eight to ten years in the hopes of being named a partner, getting a corner office, and making even bigger money. But law firms aren’t growing as they used to. If profits don’t grow, partners will not want to anoint new partners, because they will just be cutting the same pie of profits into smaller slices. They can’t come out and admit that to the associates who are joining the firm. So they wind up telling them eight years later that it turns out there’s no room for them at the top.

No one wants to admit the above realities in academia and law. As a result, institutions and the people who make them up keep proceeding as if opportunities will exist that won’t be there.

I call this dynamic constructive institutionalism — a tendency among leaders to state publicly and even hold the belief that everything will work out, despite quantitative evidence to the contrary, coupled with an inability to actually address a given institution’s real problems. Maybe you even acknowledge the failings and struggles, but you do so in a way that ends up increasing both your credibility and trustworthiness. Imagine a gathering of twenty university presidents to talk about why colleges are so expensive and why the underprivileged don’t have a higher level of access. They would say very smart and compassionate things about the perverse incentives put forward by the U.S. News & World Report rankings and the financial pressures of maintaining competitive appeal. You would think, “Wow, these people really get it.” But not one of them would actually go back and change anything important.

“How will we train Americans for the jobs of the future?” or “How will we overcome polarization and bring Americans together?” I’ve been asked these questions innumerable times over the past several years. The honest answers are “We probably won’t. It will almost certainly get worse.” I then talk bravely about the caring economy, vocational programs, changing the language of politics, or circumscribing social media. But none of those things will actually happen. By talking about them as if they were possible, I’m giving people a mistaken sense of reassurance. We have become a whole network of people bullshitting each other into believing that smart people are thinking about it and good things are happening that will address the problems. And then we all just go back to whatever we were doing.

Government is largely about this kind of theater. When I talk to government officials, oftentimes they lack the power to do anything about a problem, particularly in a time of legislative gridlock and dysfunction. You know what many of them say? “We do have the power to convene.” They will send fancy invitations to a bunch of powerful or well-known people who are involved with or knowledgeable about the issue at hand, and everyone will come together to discuss “the future of work” or “elevating entrepreneurship” or whatever the issue is. Their big delivery will be to get a mayor or senator or member of Congress to show up to said event as an enticement.

I was named a Champion of Change by the Obama administration in 2012 and a Presidential Ambassador for Global Entrepreneurship in 2015. Both of these honors involved meeting President Obama. When I was running for president, I sometimes made use of the photos I had from these gatherings to great effect. I still use them today.

But it turns out the photos were the main deliverable. Champion of Change was a designation given to people doing work that the White House Office of Public Engagement was looking to spotlight. When I went to the Champions of Change event, it was as one of a group of nonprofit leaders to meet the president. We did an interview with the Office of Public Engagement afterward where we were asked for feedback. The first speakers expressed their gratitude for being there. By the third or fourth leader, though, people started saying things like “I wish that we were given a contact who could help our organization” or “I wish that I was getting resources so that we could grow our work.” Many of these nonprofit leaders were running small grassroots organizations and were constantly scrapping for money. The power of the keepsake photo was already wearing off.

The Presidential Ambassador for Global Entrepreneurship program, on the other hand, was for business titans, including several billionaires and household names. If I was one of the coolest Champions of Change, I was certainly one of the least cool Ambassadors for Global Entrepreneurship. I joked that they must have needed an Asian American for the photo. I met Daymond John, Mark Cuban, Barbara Corcoran, Hamdi Ulukaya, and Nina Vaca at the White House. (Also there — Elizabeth Holmes, the since-disgraced Theranos founder. She struck me as odd, but I was like, “Who am I to say?” Meanwhile, Daniel Lubetzky, the founder of KIND Snacks, at one point asked us if we were hungry. A bunch of us said yes, and he opened his jacket pockets and produced all of these experimental KIND Bars that none of us had seen before; he was the Batman of snacks.)

Even for people at this level, our function was mostly ceremonial. We convened at the Global Entrepreneurship Summit in Palo Alto in 2016. The highlight of the event was Mark Zuckerberg sitting on a stage and advising young entrepreneurs from around the world. Some of these entrepreneurs were from Africa and clearly of modest means. I felt like screaming out, “Mark, cut these folks a check!” from my seat in the tenth row. But no. It seemed that the entrepreneurs walked away with a photo of being onstage with Mark and some advice.

If running for president consisted of camera angles, our current approach to governance rests significantly on photo opportunities and performances that demonstrate our understanding. I found out later that at least one major entrepreneur who was a public company CEO turned the honor down because he was more about action than ceremony.

As someone who’s been a part of this theatrical tradition, my incentives are to continue the fiction. If I was on a panel or attended a conference, it’s much better to suggest that the panel really did make a difference. If I have a photo with Obama, I must have his cell-phone number or at least be able to get in touch with him.

Indeed, two groups that are especially prone to constructive institutionalism are those that we rely upon both to give us a sense of the problems and to solve them — journalists and politicians.

Journalists are typically trained to be impartial observers, which inhibits them from expressing emotion or opinion. They are supposed to calmly document and present the news. For many, there is an implicit perch of authority and stability. Unfortunately, this has also turned many into market-friendly automatons and cultural guardians who make pro forma gestures about decorum, virtue, and propriety while ignoring the disintegration of trust, the dissipating integrity of their own organizations, or the decline of the American way of life.

I’ve been blown away by how so many journalists seem to keep a stiff upper lip even as their industry has been decimated. Talk about bravery — or bizarre institutional acceptance — in the face of real-life distress. More than sixty thousand journalists have lost their jobs over the past ten years, with over half of that in 2020 alone. Digital media companies that were supposed to be the future have hemorrhaged employees along with the old-line businesses. On their way out, many tweet out chin-up messages about it: “It’s been an honor reporting alongside the most talented colleagues in the world for these past 10 years. I learned so much. Thank you.”

The most visible figures command enough of an audience to make the industry seem healthy, even while the rank and file disappear. Top journalists continue to make good money; there will just be a lot fewer of them, with others looking up at them. The winner-take-all economy is subsuming the field as it is so many others.

If you ask a journalist about the secular disruption, you’re likely to get a response like “Don’t worry, journalism will continue to reinvent itself via a combination of Substack and podcasting” — the kind of response that is the epitome of constructive institutionalism. There’s nothing wrong with the institution after all; it’s just that the journalists are not adaptable enough. Perhaps if they pivot quickly enough, you will subscribe to their new newsletter on coronavirus vaccine news.

That’s a much more common response than the correct one: “Help! I’m sad! Our sector is being blown up, and we need either massive philanthropy or public funding if it is to survive in a way that approaches the needs of a modern functioning democracy!”

If journalists are conditioned to calmly document dispassionately, politicians are conditioned to invoke profundity, resilience, and the greater good at every turn. As a politician you’re like a totem or shaman. You show up to a gathering or charity event to speechify and elevate the proceeding: “Thank you for the incredible work that you’re doing. It’s so important.” Which it is, of course. Though it would be if you didn’t show up too.

You are meant to embody the concerns of the community. You listen patiently to all. You are present. If someone asks you a question, you answer it reassuringly. You express values and aspirations. You are a human security blanket, and your job is to make people feel better.

You make false promises regularly or lay claim to powers you do not have. “Together we can ensure that every child has the kind of opportunity that they deserve in our community.” “If we come together, there’s no limit to what we can accomplish.” “If we listen to each other, we can create a bright future for all.” You are all about the singing of brighter horizons.

Perhaps the biggest example of this magical thinking is the political conversation around retraining workers, often expressed, absurdly, as “teaching people to code.” The actual success of government-funded retraining programs has been found to be near zero in a majority of cases, with many workers simply holding valueless certificates afterward. Has the politician ever tried coding before? Have they tried to retrain a thousand former manufacturing and retail workers? Would they hire those thousand people if they needed a thousand coders? How about a hundred thousand?

We accept ridiculous statements on their face because we have grown to regard them less as real actions or policy statements and more as simply value statements and political representations of the world as you wish it to be. The country has lost more than four million manufacturing jobs since 2000, devastating hundreds of once-thriving communities in the Midwest and the South. That’s fine; if ten politicians stand in a circle holding hands and chant in unison, “You’ll like to code, heed this refrain, despair not, you shall retrain,” those millions of workers shall all move to Seattle and become Amazon Web Services technicians.

You can’t solve the problem, so talking assumes the role of solution. Right before he left office, Justin Amash, a Michigan congressman, said, “I’m seeing all of these campaign ads right now, and everyone’s saying, ‘I’m going to do this, I’m going to do that’ . . . No you’re not. You’re not going to do that, because you have no power to do it. The system is not designed to allow you to do that.” It’s much easier and more compelling for a politician to say, “I’m going to fight for each and every one of you!” than “there’s not much I can do about that one.”

Of course, politicians and journalists reinforce each other’s fictions. I’m reporting on you because you represent the people. I’ll catch you if you misspeak, because your speaking right is the most important thing; if you spoke right, all would be solved. This is important.

Politicians are increasingly reduced to well-liked or poll-tested stewards to tend to our emotions rather than figures who can actually improve the situation. There’s a negation of the self: you are not a human being; you are our weathervane and expresser of grief, outrage, celebration, sorrow, sports allegiance, or whatever the occasion warrants. You can’t actually amend the institution that you represent, but you can make us feel better about it temporarily as we go home.

If there is a big hairy problem — climate change, automation of jobs and a dehumanizing economy, dysfunctional government — you can attend a conference about it. In a world where preserving your role means playing along, who is left to tell us the truth about either the organizations they represent or what is happening to us?

The mistrust that is building up in American life is born in large part of the pervasiveness of constructive institutionalism. We have conversations about what we can do better while the reality degrades around us, increasing the divergence between the world we’re talking about and the world as it is. We’re paid to be positive and market-friendly and can-do. We say something like “We must solve these problems” while counting our book royalties. The people who are on the outside of these institutions lose trust in us. Their instincts aren’t entirely wrong.

Can this dynamic be changed? It’s an open question whether we can reinforce more disciplined communications that call out the reality of our situations without descending into happy talk. We must start distinguishing between compassionate and conformist statements, on the one hand, and actually improving the facts on the ground in a world where action and statement have become the same, in part because very few are capable of actually taking steps that would improve the reality on the ground.

The previous sentence was constructively institutionalist. You see how it works. Or doesn’t.

The above is excerpted from “Forward: Notes on the Future of Our Democracy” published by Crown on sale now

From ‘What’ to ‘How’ in Mountain View

Hello,

I’m writing this right after the Basic Income March in Mountain View, CA, where I saw many old friends from the presidential campaign.  The Bay Area is a special place for me on several levels – my parents met there, I’ve spent a lot of time there, and it was one of the first places that embraced my presidential campaign and the site of our first big rally.  

Among the old friends I saw were Bill Hotter who was my ‘bodyguard’ in Iowa, Tyrene Pamstein who literally yelled her lungs out at the debates, and Gisele Huff whose son, Gerald was one of our earliest and staunchest supporters prior to his passing away of pancreatic cancer.  Gisele – at 85 years old – has made advancing basic income her life’s work in her son’s memory.  Gisele’s Gerald Huff Fund for Humanity is an amazing force for good.  

Despite being the 3rd annual Basic Income March, this event felt like the beginning of something very new.  I characterized the presidential campaign as the ‘What’ – a vision of a human-centered economy and Universal Basic Income.  At this point, a majority of Americans actually agree with this vision, though it goes by a few slightly different labels.  

The next phase is the ‘How’ we get to Universal Basic Income.  

I used to believe that the problem was that people didn’t know what Universal Basic Income was.  I was wrong.  The problem is that our government doesn’t really listen to us.  

And why should it?  There are no consequences to our discontent or suffering.  Congress has a national approval rating of 28%.  That is, 28% of Americans think that Congress is doing a strong job.  It has bounced between 21 and 30% or so for the last number of months.  

The re-election rate for individual members of Congress?  94%.  They will get re-elected regardless of what the overall body does.  

Why is that?  83% of Congressional districts, thanks in part to gerrymandering on both sides – are ‘safe seats.’  That is, seats that will be comfortably Democratic or Republican no matter what.  Think the Bay Area or rural Alabama.  If you get to the general, you win.  

The only real challenge you MIGHT get is in the primary, where 20% of the most avid and extreme partisans participate.  Your major incentive is simply to avoid getting primaried within your own party.  Compromise will likely be used as a weapon against you or a sign of ideological impurity.  This is one big reason that Republicans haven’t spoken up against Trump – they are judged not by the general voting public but by the most extreme in their party.  Speaking out against Trump is the equivalent of political suicide in most areas because of the closed party primary.  

This has led us to an environment where politicians on both sides are rewarded by catering to the extremes and special interests who are closest to the process.  It has ramped up polarization to record levels – indeed, political stress as measured by Peter Turchin and others is at Civil War levels.  We can all sense it getting worse, not better.  

So how do we begin to change this?  One state – Alaska – last year adopted Open Primaries and Ranked Choice Voting.  It is one big reason that Senator Lisa Murkowski is the only Republican Senator who voted to impeach Trump who is also up for re-election in 2022.  She doesn’t have to go through the Republican primary and can think about what 51% of voters want instead of the most rabid 20%.  

Think about this for a second – a legislator can express independent judgment because of a systems change.  

That’s the opportunity.  24 states have ballot initiatives where we can make this change.  The other states can act similarly through state legislatures.  

This is the fix that will make all things possible.  And this is where our energies should go - amending our system so that it can actually start working for most of us instead of only the most avid partisans.  We can begin to provide a middle ground for people who want to be positive, universal and solutions-oriented and a wet blanket to bring down the temperature of our polarized nation.  

I make this argument – layered over stories from the trail, how to fix our equally polarized media and social media, data rights, and many other things – over 302 pages in my book ‘Forward’ which is coming out next Tuesday!  And then I’m hitting the road to have extended conversations about the substance of my book.  I’m heading to NYC (obviously), Washington D.C., Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Atlanta, Denver, SF, Irvine, Des Moines and more in the next four weeks.  I hope that you’ll join me for what I believe will be extraordinary sessions.  I also hope that you’ll pre-order the book and tell your friends.  I’m very proud of it.  Evelyn says that it’s a great read and she wouldn’t lie to me.   ☺   

But the book is just a small component of the movement we must build.  I talked before about the sleeping giant of the American people.  We are about to wake up to the mechanisms that are being used to both pit us against each other and separate us from real progress.  Can we actually fix a broken system?  Let’s fight like mad to find out.  Gerald Huff would have wanted that.

Yours, 

-Andrew