Governing from off-stage
Among the most important trends in American public life over the last century is the increased attention paid to the goings-on in Washington, DC. Prior to airplanes, cars, and mass communication, when life centered on a small geographic area and its community, there was little reason to fixate on that distant city or its federal government that possessed little power or money. Citizens’ minds were understandably occupied by the close-to-home.
But over decades, we were increasingly connected to a broader world by newspapers, radio, television, train tracks, and highways. And as international trade blossomed, foreign wars erupted, and federal domestic policy initiatives expanded, Washington’s activities could no longer be ignored. It’s no wonder why our eyes—for ages trained on towns, counties, cities, and states—were more often pulled to the shores of the Potomac.
But nearby institutions still have a natural gravitational force. We are drawn to them because we see them, we know the people running them, and we’re affected daily by their decisions. You would think that each of us would dedicate to the close and familiar the lion’s share of whatever energy we reserve for politics and policy. So why is it that our attention is glued to Washington? It’s a city many of us never visit, and it’s led by people we don’t know behaving in ways we often don’t like. And as that city does less and less meaningful work on real issues, it engages more and more in abstract debates far removed from our everyday experience. How in the world does Washington transfix us?
Theater.
To capture and maintain our interest, Washington must put on a show. Franklin Roosevelt’s fireside chats were a modern take on the atavism of stories around a campfire. John Kennedy’s Camelot made use of a familiar, inspiring myth. Congressional hearings showcasing celebrities are contemporary bread and circus. State of the Union addresses are now less about the text and more about who’s sitting in the president’s box and how members of Congress will react. Unsurprisingly, as contemporary Washington shows itself to be incapable of passing regular budgets, dealing with China, solving immigration, or addressing countless other pressing matters, its denizens seem to behave more like entertainers. They can give the impression of prioritizing communications, memes, social media, inter-party spats, and cable news hits over the basic duties of governing.
This phenomenon threatens our democratic republic. With local journalism steadily disappearing, Americans, unable to closely follow state or local happenings, are acculturated to believe that the burlesque in Washington amounts to modern citizenship and service. It most certainly does not. When ostensible leaders turn into performers, we turn into spectators. And that undermines our ability to self-govern and take seriously our public obligations. This cannot continue. The most important tasks today for leaders operating outside of the Beltway are ensuring our closer-to-home institutions don’t become local theater and restoring our capacity for self-government.
First, state leaders should commit to making state governments theater-free zones. They must remain a place for democratic work, not stagecraft. Legislative leaders should have strict codes of conduct that prevent members from verbally abusing colleagues, turning hearings into self-promotion exercises, or otherwise undermining their institution. Bad behavior should lead to censure and loss of committee assignments and caucus leadership posts. Legislative chambers have the authority to set their own rules. While duly elected members are generally free to behave as they choose—they don’t give up their First Amendment rights when they enter the legislature—each chamber can make certain roles and privileges contingent on following standards of conduct. Governors should do the same with the executive branch, establishing and policing norms of behavior for staff and cabinet officials. State senates should deny confirmation to appointed officials with track records of Washington-style behavior.
State leaders should also protect some space for private deliberation. “Public records,” “open meeting,” and “freedom of information” laws are invaluable tools for ensuring a high degree of transparency in government activity. But too much transparency can thwart sober, collaborative decision-making. Solving the most challenging issues typically requires discreet, frank, group deliberation. Finding compromises generally depends on mutual goodwill and typically necessitates concessions. Such things are best negotiated quietly. Indeed, over time, private conversations foster the collegiality that enables institutions to function well. Conversely, when private space is limited, we can see more and more individual-first instead of institution-first behavior. When every email, text, document, and meeting is publicly broadcast, accommodation, bipartisanship, and bargains can become more difficult. Those who broker and assent to agreements can look weak. When everything becomes an opportunity for posturing and grandstanding, the theatrical lone wolf rises, and the understated team member recedes.
Without compromising the public’s right to keep abreast of the government’s work, state leaders should find ways to keep private some deliberative communications and gatherings. This expanded private space would teach state leaders that their work should be primarily understood as cooperative — and considered problem-solving — not attention-chasing. It would also serve to foster stronger relationships among leaders, which would decrease polarization and increase collaboration.
At the same time, however, state leaders must begin working more closely with journalists. To refocus Americans on the close-to-home, these two sides must build a new relationship for this new era. In previous generations, when citizens’ eyes naturally fell on the close-to-home, state leaders and journalists had the luxury of maintaining an antagonistic relationship. Government officials could see themselves as decent public servants warding off prying, headline-chasing reporters. Journalists could see themselves as public servants uncovering public-sector waste, fraud, and abuse. The resulting creative tension might’ve had some public value. But today, with citizens preoccupied with Washington and local journalism disappearing, no one is well served by that model: Most happenings get no coverage, the little local journalism energy remaining inclines toward flash or scandal, and government officials keep their heads down and mouths closed.
The mantra of state leaders and close-to-home journalists needs to be: “Keep the public informed.” That means school superintendents and transportation secretaries talking to reporters more often, police chiefs and housing directors hosting more site visits, and governors and attorneys-general having regular lunches with editors. It also means newspapers covering high school sports, parades, food drives, library expansions, budget meetings, and grand openings, not just trials and whistleblowers. It also means state policymakers and local concerned philanthropists finding ways to support new models, including nonprofit forms, of journalism. In short, we need a partnership between journalism and government officials premised on growing public knowledge of and commitment to local institutions and activities.
Closer-to-home governing means more citizens participating in public life.
Lastly, state officials need to recommit to localism, that is, distributing as much power as possible to counties, cities, towns, and nonprofits. Public officials are less likely to engage in theater and more likely to engage in substance when they are working on issues that matter to their neighbors. And closer-to-home governing means more citizens participating in public life. States should minimize the number of policies that preempt local decisions. Though it will always be tempting to use state power to vacate an objectionable municipal choice, officials should refrain in the name of local self-rule. Similarly, state leaders should take steps to move from the “Dillon Rule” of presumed state-level authority to the “Cooley Rule” of presumed local self-determination. In the former, local power is understood as delegated; in the latter, local power is understood as inherent. The latter fosters active local citizens. And finally, state leaders should protect voluntary associations. These hyper-local bodies, which reflect the enormous diversity of American society, rely entirely on active citizens, and they engage in some of the most valuable civic work, for instance, related to education, housing, social services, and more. Their traditions and practices, however, can run afoul of government preferences; indeed, civil society bodies often reflect the views of smaller communities. So state leaders should consider adopting laws that codify associational protections.
In total, then, we must give citizens a reason to focus on close-to-home governing while protecting our state and local institutions from Washington-style behavior. We can do that by distributing power, recommitting to citizens’ self-government, and helping our public institutions stay places of deliberation and decision-making not platforms for posturing.
Andy Smarick is a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute, where his work focuses on education, civil society, and the principles of American conservatism.
