Brook’s recent book is a historical analysis of western civilization’s great democracies and the sources of their resilience –the maintenance of the fundamental agreement among citizens to govern themselves as free equals. Co-authored with Josiah Ober of Stanford, The Civic Bargain was named a “Best Book in 2023” by The New Yorker magazine.
“… persuasive … The primal act of healthy democracies is the social bargain, and its product is an idea of citizenship that in itself depends on the coexistence of different kinds of groups.”
“[Manville and Ober] contend that any democracy, if it’s to last and thrive, is in essence a bargain…[they] chart the long and tortured process by which four democracies—those of Athens, Rome, Britain and America—achieved…‘institutionalized disunity’: messy, imperfect but peaceful and secure self-government.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist! Democracy is not dead. Not yet, anyway. But in the United States, it is begging for our recommitment. Josiah Ober, a Stanford professor of political science and of classics, and co-author Brook Manville make that hopeful point in The Civic Bargain: How Democracy Survives, in what turns out to be a riveting romp—no, actually—through thousands of years of Western political history.”
“Together, [MANVILLE AND OBER] present a beguilingly hopeful picture of democracy’s past and present—conditioned, however, on the willingness of democratic polities to confront two basic challenges, and to promote a specific program for civic education and action.”
“Even with all that seems discouraging in our own time, Americans should take heart that we the people can make a difference and maintain the continuity of our experiment…[Manville and Ober] offer a useful and accessible framework for talking about democracy—in a time when we are all too accustomed to speaking past one another on fundamental matters of civic life.”
“Allow me to offer high praise for The Civic Bargain: How Democracy Survives, the new book by the independent scholar Brook Manville and Josiah Ober of Stanford University’s Hoover Institution. While the entire book is well-written and insightful, its historical overview is a veritable treasure trove for anyone who wants to understand the events leading up to our experiment in self-government, the challenges encountered along the way (human nature being what it is), and the patterns that are most likely to be repeated in the future.”
“Most important, Manville and Ober argue, the great democracies survived because they forged and maintained a “civic bargain,” a political pact about who is a citizen, how decisions are made, and the distribution of responsibilities and entitlements. As a result, these democracies were able to persevere through recurring crises and face down existential threats.”
“… [The authors] take a deep historical perspective, they establish essential conditions for democracy, and they tell us that it is a process that is never finished. Civic bargains must be struck repeatedly at critical junctures to keep democracy alive.”
David Stasavage author of The Decline and Rise of Democracy: A Global History from Antiquity to Today
“In The Civic Bargain, democracy is a living system, ever evolving as the political agents shape and reshape the terms of their bargain with one another. [The authors] present the interweaving histories of democracy in such a way that one has the sense of galloping through a forest with a guide who knows the wildwood the way he knows his own kitchen.”
Jenna Bednar University of Michigan
“Manville and Ober’s new book offers new, fascinating insights about democracy, ancient and modern. They update the metaphor of the social contract to that of a ‘civic bargain,’ whose terms are constantly renegotiated by citizens as a condition of their mutual flourishing. A thought-provoking and captivating read.”
Hélène Landemore author of Open Democracy: Reinventing Popular Rule for the Twenty-First Century
“Looking at the past, present, and future of democracy through the lens of a civic bargain is both helpful and hopeful. Manville and Ober combine a lively history lesson with a practical way forward, lighting a democratic path through the darkness.”
Back in the day, American schoolchildren studied “civics” —the history and workings of our democracy. Curricula often included the formative influence of “the world’s first democracy of the ancient Greeks.” Thirty years ago, the role of American civic education became less important, competing with new priorities for better science and math, and facing curricular debates over new historical interpretations of the nation’s past. Meanwhile, study of democracy’s Greek heritage similarly slipped into a lower classroom priority. Read the full article here.
Brook writes regularly on Substack, connecting and extending findings of his Civic Bargain book to contemporary politics and issues of democratic renewal.
A young boy observes the statue of Confederate general Albert Pike after it was toppled by protesters at Judiciary square in Washington, DC June 19, 2020. (Photo by ERIC BARADAT) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Public statues falling everywhere. Robert E. Lee, Christopher Columbus, Thomas Jefferson, and more—memorialized leaders yanked to the ground, no longer heroes to angry crowds demonstrating this summer for racial justice. So which bronze effigies deserve to be (literally) knocked off their pedestal? Or, perhaps less clear, what happens after that? It’s easy enough to decry a general, or statesman or explorer’s historical sins with today’s sharpened retrospection: but what kind of leaders should replace the fallen? Should our public spaces still be graced with grand effigies of leaders at all? (President Trump has meanwhile pondered whether his own likeness should be added to Mount Rushmore).
US President Donald Trump at Mount Rushmore National Memorial in Keystone, South Dakota, July 3, 2020. (Photo by SAUL LOEB) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Expect the broader debate about celebrating—or not celebrating—particular leaders to rage on, raising ever more inflamed emotion. For a cooling pause, and some scholarly perspective, I reached out to Cornell professor Barry Strauss, an esteemed author of page-turning studies of many historical leaders (most recently Ten Caesars: Simon & Schuster, 2019). Our conversation focused on two questions: What can we learn from past civilizations about erecting public monuments to leaders? And how can such lessons inform America’s future commemorations?
Patterns Through History
Barry Strauss, Cornell UniversityPHOTO: ROBERT BARKER, USED BY PERMISSION, (C) CORNELL UNIVERSITY, 2020
Strauss first cautioned: “Every civilization has its own political values—lessons about monuments must be contextualized. But there are some common patterns. Also, we need to look beyond statues. Through history leaders have been promoted by whole systems of images and rituals: ceremonies, coins, religious buildings, different forms of art, education.”
As we proceeded, the discussion yielded several insights:
1. Autocracies and democracies monumentalize leaders differently—but always to influence a public audience. Professor Strauss contrasted civilizations like pharaonic Egypt and imperial Rome vs those of ancient Athens or America’s republic: in the former, awe-inspiring projection of a larger-than-life ruler vs in democracies, celebration of distinguished citizens who triumphed serving the people. “But in both cases, you still see promotion of certain heroic values—e.g., strength, courage, or perhaps mercy or duty; and an effort to elevate the leader to a higher plane. In autocracies, statues communicate a mixture of divine reverence and fear; democratic nations tend to inspire more human admiration. But for both the message is always educational—shaping opinions through public images and symbols.”
2. As the politics and values of a nation change, so will its monuments. Thus the central question of today’s debates in America: are we in the midst of a transformation that calls for new approaches in choosing leaders to celebrate? Or are today’s demonstrations more ephemeral, unlikely to affect enduring ideas of historical heroes (Confederate generals perhaps excepted)?
A Surge of Power (Jen Reid) 2020, installed in Bristol, England to replace the former statue of the slave trader Edward Colston. (PHOTO BY BEN BIRCHALL/PA IMAGES VIA GETTY IMAGES)
“It’s too soon to know,” Strauss warned. “But ancient Rome has some lessons about how shifting values can play out over time. Early Roman civilization was small and rough: there were few public statues, but instead elaborate funerals for members of the aristocratic families that controlled the state. Later, when Rome grew through conquest, public statues of successful generals started to appear, enhanced by other hero-promotion, like triumphal parades, and god-like images of leaders on coins—a practice Julius Caesar adapted from Alexander the Great in Hellenistic Greece.”
“But when the Emperor Augustus ended the Roman civil wars, he deliberately transformed the cult of warrior personalities, shifting his own public image towards “peaceful divinity” and also endorsing family and more traditional Roman values. The reliefs of his famous Altar of Peace were a brilliant blend of old and new, divine and human, and men buttressed by strong women—signaling his wish for a new era of the imperial culture.”
Members of the Imperial Family of Augustus depicted on the Ara Pacis Augustae. Ist Century A.D.BETTMANN ARCHIVE
How will America communicate its own transitions? Will America someday have its own Augustus to help us on our way?
3. Abstraction can sometimes be more powerful than celebrating individual leaders. “The Great Pyramids were a monumental symbol of the strict hierarchical power of ancient Egyptian kings—built by thousands of workers who owed labor to an omnipotent pharaoh. But they were also a public boast to instill cultural pride, like America landing a man on the moon.”
Camels resting before the Great Pyramids of Giza, Cairo, EgyptJOE SOHM/VISIONS OF AMERICA/UNIVERSAL IMAGES GROUP VIA GETTY IMAGES
“Consider also classical Athenians, which celebrated the civic dignity of their democracy: sculpting images of anonymous citizens in procession on parts of the great Parthenon; or, in another famous relief, depicting the demos symbolically—the common people as a wise man, crowned by the god of Democracy itself.”
4. Monumental messages can be subtle or even ambiguous. Iconoclastic attacks on contemporary statues may miss the deeper history of their intended messages: “Alexander the Great enhanced his public charisma by managing minute details in all his images, like a modern consumer brand: his hair always windswept, no beard (unlike most Greek men)—indicating a vigorous and eternally young ruler.
Alexander The Great, King of Macedonia (356 – 323 BC), bust dated c. 330 BC (Photo by Hulton Archive) GETTY IMAGES
He also ennobled particular lieutenants with their own statues, signaling the value of royal loyalty. He was relentless in his messaging.”
Historical monuments can have multiple meanings. “Many Civil War Confederate generals were memorialized in racist support of Jim Crow laws. But some monuments were also dedicated in the spirit of reconciliation, echoing Lincoln’s hope of ‘malice towards none.’” Consider also the silent message of non-monuments—who is and who is not being commemorated: “After the American Revolution there were no statues erected of loyalists who had supported the Crown, even though many were once distinguished citizens. And post WW II Italy is a story of commemorations that should have been removed but weren’t: unlike Nazi monuments almost universally destroyed in Germany, some Italian fascist monuments were sometimes left standing. You can still see some today.”
5. Judge public monuments in the context of the broader national narrative. On the eve of the American Revolution, rabble-rousing patriots in New York pulled down a gilded statue of King George III— a rejection of kingly power of the sort that led to our war of independence. But at the time, nobody knew if and when a new American democracy would be born. But it was, and thus the story of toppling King George can today be added to our national narrative. And of course, so was the other George (Washington) who fought the war and then became our first president.
Today, the second George is now under attack for himself owning slaves: are we on our way to another revolution, that will somehow explain our historical past with a different and more relevant narrative?
Images of demonstrators protesting racial injustice in June 2020 reflected in a WW1 US Army recruitment poster. (Photo by Brendan Smialowski) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Professor Strauss commented with some appropriately sober academic judgment: “We can’t predict the future, but we should honestly confront the reality of today—America is clearly having a debate about the story of its history, and ultimately the story of America itself. It’s been going on since the 1960s, and we’re not near any resolution yet. We shouldn’t be surprised—our society has gone through huge change—greater social freedom for many constituencies (people of color, women, gay people, etc.), lots more immigration and new values, more social inequality. There’s also an ongoing conflict between older generations and the values they hold dear, and a rising younger generation that sees our world very differently. Controversies about statues and leaders are ultimately just signals of deeper clashes about our national story.”
So Where Do We Go From Here?
I closed by pressing this Cornell historian a bit more—what’s the right way to find our new national story, and agree the right heroes to celebrate therein?
He first offered some sound procedural suggestions (forming a diverse and multi-generational, multi-local commission, facilitating a national conversation, blending expert opinions with those of everyday citizens, etc.) But his final thoughts were wisest of all: “We have to engage many different opinions—but ultimately find some common thread, a shared unity that ties us together as a national community. Our future story should combine the best elements of the past, with more forward-looking ideas—respecting the valued core of yesterday but also informed by real innovation now underway. The Romans built a thousand-year civilization on that basis. There’s no reason we can’t reconceive our democratic society the same way.”
Friday, 9:30 pm, another humiliating workday. Boss mocked your client presentation—then four-letter insulted you in front of colleagues. Come 4:30 pm, he threw you a “little weekend project,” due Monday morning.
Back home, ready to scream, you head to the kitchen: “Please oh god, let there be malt whiskey.”
Take a breath. Things could be worse. Imagine if you worked for some cruel and depraved emperor from Roman history.Consider Caligula (AD 12-41). This tyrant reveled in humiliating rivals (e.g. extorting sex from their wives) and brutalizing august Senate elders (forcing them to honor a horse as their consul, and to run behind the emperor’s chariot). Caligula’s nightly paranoia was to lie in bed, plotting false accusations against his countless enemies. Rome sighed in collective relief when a few of his body guards dispatched him with loving swords.
The murder of Caligula in 41 AD by his Praetorian Guard. GETTY
Or how about reporting to Nero (AD 37-68)? Notorious for murdering his wife, mother and hundreds of Christians, this creature also demanded that subordinates ooh and aah for his operatic songs (yes, while Rome burned).
Or imagine a boss like Emperor Tiberius (AD 14-37): a craven scoundrel who enriched himself with stolen citizen fortunes, chased carnal pleasures in Capri while ignoring repeated public crises, and proudly proclaimed that “as long as people obey me, I take joy in their hatred.”
Beyond imperial antics, Roman civilization also offers some positive wisdom. That empire endured many chaotic bosses, but still kept all the operational machinery whirring for centuries. Some workaday professionals clearly figured out how to survive the monsters in charge. I asked Professor Osgood to reflect on Roman lessons for coping and prospering if you work for a boss both loathed and feared.
Josiah Osgood PHOTO: PHIL HUMNICKY/GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY
“Much is just common sense,” he began. “But there are also timeless insights in the stories of well-intentioned people serving awful leaders.”
Our discussion surfaced five career-enhancing suggestions:
1. Understand the risks and rewards of your professional aspirations. Do you have the stomach for a heartless supervisor? If you’re ambitious, there will always be one or two along the way, as you climb the ladder. Osgood explained why the risk increases as your career progresses—drawing from ancient Rome.“Working for the Emperor—essentially the CEO—was the ultimate prize: like today, a route to glory, wealth, and more prestigious marriages. The competition to join imperial service was fierce—which also made the man at the top the fiercest of all. Rising in the ranks always enters you into more stressful arenas.”
Own what every ancient go-getter knew: you have to steel yourself for the professional dangers and personal costs of some horrific boss in your future. It’s just part of the career-building game.
2. Accept assignments but keep learning and performing. Themost effective leadership development derives from experience in different jobs—but only if you work harder and smarter with each new post. The more you grow, the greater your value—even to future bosses from hell. Increasing skills become a protective asset.
The Georgetown professor invoked another Roman text: “Tacitus’ Agricola, a biography of a successful imperial statesman, reminds us that nothing builds your career faster—or better insulates you from reproach—than developing your capabilities and continuously improving. Agricola was first sent by Nero to help pacify the unruly British province. He turned the difficult commission into a learning opportunity. Working under experienced generals, he year by year cultivated essential knowledge about waging war and commanding soldiers. It eventually made him invaluable. He took less abuse from volatile emperors, because they needed him.”
3. Align yourself with the fundamentals of strategy and values. Beneath every bad boss lies an organization with tangible goals and its own cultural values. Anchor yourself to those, to help withstand the gales of a stormy overseer. Osgood again bridged to an ancient example: “Agricola’s success was buttressed by his steady focus on traditional Roman ways and empire-building. In Britain he resisted personal luxury and enrichment which was the norm of provincial generals. He also consolidated military victories by importing Roman institutions and schooling the locals in Latin. He shrewdly kept furthering the civilization for which his boss emperors wanted to be known.”
4. Reach for the sky—but not too high. “Never look better than your boss”— sage advice today, and no less for ambitious Romans. Jealousy is a dangerous human emotion—especially in your supervisor. Strive to contain it.
Nero (AD 37-68) GETTY
First, have some empathy for the boss himself: jealousy springs less from vanity than fear. Professor Osgood underscored that with another Roman insight: “There was no law of succession for emperors, so anyone could potentially usurp—or kill— them. They had reason to be paranoid, and not surprisingly, many lashed out when they saw rival talent rising.”
“Note, therefore, the contrarian wisdom of Agricola. Throughout his career he tip-toed with his personal reputation. Asked to organize public games for Nero—who himself loved hosting big flashy circuses—Agricola produced events that were professional but never extravagant.”
“Under Domitian, who was a poor military leader, Agricola sent campaign dispatches that were informative, but minimized his own accomplishments. He deliberately restrained friends from boasting on his behalf. Assiduous modesty propelled his rise.”
5. Dare the tyrant only when you dare. Even if you do everything right, you’ll still come to some moment of final despair with your insufferable boss. You’re fed up and want to fight back. But before you do, press “pause”—consider what you’re willing to sacrifice. Or not. And why the confrontation.
Osgood again explained: “Many Roman statesmen reached the breaking point with cruel emperors, and then died for opposing their wishes. Today, thankfully, most of us don’t have to worry about that—but of course insubordination in a job can quickly get you fired. That can be its own existential moment in a career. History again offers some instructive insights.”
Emperor Augustus (63 BC – 14 AD) GETTY
“First, know your bosses and your true worth to them, before you decide to push back. Consider the story of Marcus Agrippa. The emperor Augustus heavily depended upon this all-competent lieutenant. So occasionally, if Agrippa was unhappy with some imperial demand, he would subtly hint about retiring from service. Then, as now: if you think you’re on solid ground, be willing to walk. But weigh the risks and rewards—if you miscalculate, there’s no turning back.”
“Second, confronting a boss will be different in different moments of your career. Some Roman statesmen, in their later years, simply became more philosophical about their lives (literally “Stoic,” following the then popular school). They were not afraid to take the consequences of challenging a corrupt leader — for the greater good of the institution.”
“One famous Senator, Thrasea Paetus, rebuffed the disgraceful subservience demanded by Nero. In visible dissent, Paetus spurned both applauding the Emperor in public games, and praising him in the Senate. The emperor had him killed. But Paetus took comfort in a noble death. His bravery echoes that of whistleblowers and others who act courageously in service to someone in power—at great personal cost, for the betterment of something more important than just flattering a self-absorbed leader.”
WASHINGTON, DC – APRIL 17 : President Donald J. Trump and Dr. Anthony Fauci, a member of the president’s Coronavirus Task Force. April 17, 2020. (Photo by Jabin Botsford) THE WASHINGTON POST VIA GETTY IMAGES
P.S. For a more lighthearted but still historical Roman tale—with contemporary lessons about leadership, imperial power, art and romance—check out Esme von Hoffman’s charming new film, Ovid and the Art of Love (streaming on multiple platforms).
You call me the “Silent Killer.” True enough, I’ve done in almost 90,000 of you. Also murdered a big chunk of your GDP. But today I won’t be silent.
America, you ought to be ashamed of how you’ve been fighting me. I’m going to challenge you to do better—and now tell you how.
Why the friendly advice?
I enjoy the sport of our struggle. I thought I might now even up the match a little, for the next time around. And believe me—there will be a next time.
So where to begin?
First, forget the blame Olympics. Your people are in a raging but unproductive argument about who’s been most at fault for my destruction: Trump’s leadership, Obama’s poor preparations, Chinese malice. Forget the rear view mirror.
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Think Differently
Instead, look now in your own mirror—and confront your democratic identity. You’re a big, complicated self-governing society—fundamentally vulnerable to my kind of attack. Your nation is open, diverse, and regionally differentiated. You love liberty in speech and action. You thrive on debate about what to do in a crisis. Compared to places like Germany and China, your complex and freedom-loving culture makes my job a whole lot easier.
Face your real strategic problem: you aren’t playing to your democracy’s strengths. Winners leverage what they do best, and mitigate the rest. Take a hint: up your game, by changing how you play it.
Five Tips
1.Depoliticize your processes of detection and action—but not too much.
Meanwhile, you’ve made yourselves even more vulnerable—turning me into a political football. As the clock ticks, I continue to get thrown around by different factions, arguing how big a deal I might be, and whose fault is that.
America: democracy means politics—but there are two kinds. Good politics is deliberating and debating a crisis, and what to do about it. People argue, but at their best, come to better answers together.Alas, bad politics is also part of democracy. As when elected leaders drive short-term personal agendas, selfishly bypassing the common good. They downplay risk to avoid telling citizens fearsome news, or about painful solutions a crisis requires. They kick the can down the road—to get reelected before the storm hits.
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How to fix that? Because we viruses can wreak such havoc, you’ve got to re-balance how your experts and elected leaders work together, to guide your people how to defend against me.
First, shore up the independence of your experts, so they can report unbiased data, and truth-tell publicly without fear of reprisal. They must be free to recommend best science and best practice. Perhaps you should re-charter your CDC (or create a dedicated pandemic advisory board) as a standalone institution: more like the Federal Reserve than a cabinet department.But don’t turn those experts into sacrosanct priests: sometimes they get it wrong. You must demand that they advise transparently, about levels of certainty, and the risks and rewards of potential courses of action. They don’t mandate policy, but work with elected leaders to help develop the best trade-offs for the nation. And there will always be trade-offs.
WASHINGTON, DC – FEBRUARY 29: CDC Director Robert Redfield speaks as National Institute for Allergy and Infectious Diseases Director Anthony Fauci, Vice President Mike Pence, and U.S. President Donald Trump listen, during a news conference at the White House February 29, 2020 (Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images) GETTY IMAGES
Good politics is part of the process: expert recommendations balanced by citizen voices—subject to debate and challenge, and accountable to civic judgment. Your elected leaders set final policy—but they too must be subject to debate and challenge, accountable to citizens. All parties must answer: how well do the solutions proposed support the long-term common good? What risks and sacrifices are we willing to endure together for that?
Hope all you like: democracies always have leaders both good and bad. Ain’t gonna change.
Shift your focus towards the real democratic power: your citizens. Invest in the people who will choose your democratic leaders, and work with them to build nationwide pandemic defense.
Start at the bottom and ensure their basic needs—food, shelter and healthcare. My destruction falls most heavily on your poor, who disproportionately work your critical front-line jobs—and are dying at higher rates. And don’t think that today’s government relief will be enough to stem the social inequality now shredding your democratic fabric. You have to fix that too.
Experts say the African American community is disproportionately impacted by coronavirus due to underlying conditions linked to poverty, and challenges in accessing testing and health care (Photo by BRYAN R. SMITH/AFP via Getty Images) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Next, build your citizens’ pandemic awareness—engage them honestly about what must be done to halt me (I grudgingly admire Governor Cuomo’s daily briefings).
Longer term, improve your education system. Too many of your children lack the scientific proficiency to fight future pandemic wars. Too many are ignorant of your nation’s history, and its traditions of sacrifice, empathy, and volunteerism. Build these capabilities to strengthen your future citizens’ defense.
3. Develop an integrated public health system.You haveworld-class hospitals, medical schools, pharmaceutical companies and research institutes. Thanks to their innovation competence, you’re now accelerating development of therapies and vaccines against me.
For all your pathogen foes, you need a fully-integrated, more collaborative system that harnesses all assets smoothly, continuously learning and taking action to curb every new pandemic threat.
4. Renew the advantages of your federalism.
Your federalist system, a great asset of your democracy, has lost its way. Its complementary roles and responsibilities once enabled you to be both big and small: Feds handle big investment, standard-setting, specialized assistance; states, closer to communities, provide citizen-facing services, tailored implementation of standards, customized local practices.
But now, lucky me, the system is breaking down: confusion and conflict about sourcing and allocating critical supplies; turf battles about decision-making; persisting arguments about relief funding.
US President Donald Trump and US Vice President Mike Pence watch a broadcast coronavirus briefing of New York Governor Andrew Cuomo: April 19, 2020. (Photo by JIM WATSON / AFP) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Some more friendly advice: first, revisit and clarify who does what for pandemics like me. Second, take better advantage of all the experiments in your “laboratory of democracy ” that the dual system provides. If some states want to roar back to work, accepting the risks of higher death rates, stop carping and observe what really happens. Study also lessons of states who move more slowly. Dramatically expand testing, so you can honestly assess the benefits, costs, and what works and doesn’t work—and manage relaxing or tightening social distancing as data unfolds. And get yourselves on the same page about the key metrics of success—you still seem confused about all the different data being collected and evaluated about my campaign against you—especially how to measure the right balance between stopping my curse and rebuilding your livelihoods.
BTW, while you’re at it: why not pass a law banishing from all civic discourse the phrase “I told you so?”
5. Don’t miss the opportunity of this crisis—to prepare for the next one. Anytime some national disaster hits, my human hosts vow to fix mistakes and do better in preventing and managing next time around. But inevitably, all is quickly forgotten. Will this crisis be different for you?
Well, I’m skeptical. But let me finish by spooking you to reach for a higher standard.
You may end up beating me, but other deadly pathogens will darken your future. And some will be even more lethal than Covid-19. Because, unlike me, they won’t be accidental. They will be engineered by malicious human foes.
Foreign enemies have been inspired by your clumsy struggle with me. They see that America the Great is now surprisingly vulnerable to a pandemic. They will soon enough come after you—with weaponized mutations. Trust me, pal: build up your democratic strength now—or say goodbye to your lovely and ornery land of the free.
ANNAPOLIS, MD – APRIL 18: Protester at a rally to reopen the Maryland economy amidst the coronavirus pandemic: April 18, 2020. (Photo by Drew Angerer) GETTY IMAGES
But these thinnish guidelines may be more “feature than bug.” The framework’s vague simplicity affirms the president’s concession to let governors decide when to end the business and social shutdowns. More important, the spotlight now shifts to a more promising resource for inventing our post-Corona lives—the emerging network of front-line local leaders, state officials, medical practitioners, researchers, business owners and everyday citizens. Right now, growing numbers of people, in the best American tradition, are pragmatically solving multiple problems spawned by the pandemic. As they increasingly collaborate across boundaries, they are implicitly evolving a regionally-tailored set of plans for “a new normal.”
Joanne Collins Brock , a second grade teacher at St Francis School teaches online due to coronavirus closure: April 15, 202, Goshen, Kentucky. (Photo by Andy Lyons) GETTY IMAGES
We’re looking at the best bet for successfully navigating a phase II Corona transition.
Next, abandon political forensics about past blame. We can’t invent the new normal via a zero-sum trench war of freedom warriors vs scientifically-cautious officials. Reopening will demand difficult choices for everyone—with differential risks and sacrifices, including some resurgent death rates. Proven therapies and vaccines still remain in the unknowable future.
Abandon also the politically convenient axiom that “no one must choose between saving lives and freeing the economy.” Reopening America hinges on exactly such choices. Embrace the problem-solving network to accelerate innovation, to manage the inherent trade-offs. The network must also forge democratic consensus for action plans and schedules for different populations across communities.
Principles For Network Effectiveness
Betting on the network calls for all of us to do more: to participate in its work where we can, and to press elected officials to make collaborative connections more effective. A few principles drawn from large-scale organizational learning can guide us:
Medical workers outside NYU Langone Health hospital as people applaud to show their gratitude to front lines of the coronavirus pandemic (Photo by Noam Galai) GETTY IMAGES
1. Keep extending the network and developing trust. The bigger the network, the richer the potential for breakthrough solutions. But scale without trust fast erodes progress. Trust is not about liking other people—it comes from shoulder-to-shoulder work together, on common challenges, without ego or ulterior motives.
Good news, we can build on network growth underway. The National Governors Association (chaired by Republican Larry Hogan and Vice-Chair Democrat Andrew Cuomo) has been developing a knowledge-sharing exchange for coronavirus action, spawning state to state collaborations and shaping a clearer partnership with the federal government. Two local sub-groups have also formed, one among six eastern states and another of California, Oregon, and Washington, each developing regionalized approaches to re-opening their economies. As other communities also develop plans, expect to see more “living experiments”: how to re-imagine, restructure, and creatively balance risk and reward of a new normal, in schools, businesses, and public gatherings, across different parts of the country.
Jeremy Reitman (R) and his wife Taryn display an internet-sourced design to make medical quality face shields on 3D printers in their garage in Calabasas, California (Photo by Robyn Beck ) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Add also the increasing innovation from private sector contributors . Thousands of small and larger businesses are developing faster, cheaper approaches to manufacturing masks, testing solutions, vaccines, as well as new ways to deliver consumer products and services more safely to consumers. Entrepreneurial non-profits and corporate philanthropies are also providing creative forms of support, with food banks, equipment donations, new forms of medical delivery, etc.
2. As the network grows, build shared purpose and performance goals. Once connections reach critical mass, mobilize a shared vision of success: “why are we working together, and how do we know if we are winning or losing?” More measurement of success and failure will also help clarify what processes should remain local and which must be national.
3. Develop a culture of transparency: Honest reporting of successes and challenges of performance strengthens trust. So does non-politicized analysis about why certain strategies make progress, and how transferable they are across different contexts. In general, we need less “gotcha” and “sympathy” journalism, and more analytical case studies.Finally, to repeat the now urgent chorus, more testing, testing, testing—and tracking too, so we can more dynamically adjust to ever-changing threats of the disease.
4. Empower the network to keep learning, but also to shape support from the Federal government. Experiments, lessons learned and knowledge-building are most powerfully done at the front-line—in the states, in hospitals, in businesses, in communities, in businesses, as they all wrestle with balancing risk and opportunity. But networks also need the right kind of support from a “central platform”—not top- down control, but enabling coordination.
New York Governor Andrew Cuomo and Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump: September 11, 2016 in New York. (Photo credit: BRYAN R. SMITH/) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
State governors must therefore keep finding ways to forge cooperation with the Trump administration. That begins by affirming the positive contributions from the federal government—specialized medical and scientific research, funding and sourcing materials (especially foreign). But governors must also keep pushing for win-win collaborations between state and federal, where both sides must do their part: development of technical and medical standards; rationalizing purchase and allocation of supplies; collecting and communicating best practices from across the nation.
5. Create non-bureaucraticshared governance. A large network—of state, local and Federal officials, non-profit and corporate leaders, entrepreneurs, scientists, et al., — must clarify how it governs itself, without becoming a sluggish bureaucracy, or defaulting to free-wheeling survival of the fittest. A simple governance model can be built by working together to classify who owns different decisions for reopening the economy, and related protocols for what members must be consulted, informed, or encouraged to act independently.6. Celebrate collaborative excellence and challenge failing performance—for the greater good. Every one trying to get us through this mess together must learn how to accentuate the positive while also holding each other accountable for excellence. That means honest assessment of problems and how to fix them, without resorting to accusations that are personal. COVID-19 virus is about as impersonal as anything on earth—and it’s deadly effective. There’s a lesson here for everyone now fighting it.
U.S. President Donald Trump with Coronavirus Task Force members at the daily White House briefing: April 09, 2020 (Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images) GETTY IMAGES
Presidential prerogative or not, America is now gripped by a major dilemma: to re-stoke our economy and society but likely also re-accelerate the COVID-19 death count; or to stay the current “curve-flattening” course longer, grasping a livelihood-destroying solution colorfully described as holding your head underwater beyond final breath,in order to save your life.
Mr. Trump’s challenge is not so much “whether”—because eventually the shutdown must end—but rather when and how. The president’s two biggest questions now are about that, and justifying the choices that must be made, i.e., “what’s the strategy for ending the shutdown?” And “why should we citizens believe it’s the right one?”
Strategy Making
What, in fact, is a “strategy?” To keep it simple: “pursuing a set of intentional, coordinated actions to reach certain agreed-upon goals.” If you’ve ever developed strategy for a large, complex organization, you know how hard it can be. That said, our nation’s current lack of something comparable for comprehensively managing the coronavirus has been a fearsome disappointment.
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The proverbial visitor from Mars might ask, “why, with such expertise available, has your collective problem-solving been so fragmented? Or, “why has your showpiece federalist system produced such conflicting efforts among your states and national government?”
Finger-pointing aside, we might still allow some humility about this nation’s initial response. The intensity of this virus was not adequately understood by most people at first (yes, including government officials), and it quickly overwhelmed our trusting nature and lethargic bureaucracy. The exponential crush of mortal infections has been aptly described as “a surprise storm that capsizes [your] boat” and tosses you panicking into the sea: no time for planning when all you can do is cling to a life raft and be grateful you didn’t drown right away.
But over the last several weeks, while clinging to our rafts, we’ve been steadily learning more. When will we know enough to start planning longer term? Especially because all the incoming new knowledge keeps changing our sense of the “most critical issues.” How does anyone create strategy in such shifting winds and waves?
“Naufrages et Sauveteurs” by A.P.E. Morlon GETTY
Well, savvy executives and other professionals do it every day. Even before COVID-19, the global economy was plenty turbulent and unpredictable. The art of strategy has evolved in rapid step, following a “lean start-up approach” to meet the volatility of the new world. Gone are the old methodologies of lengthy, bureaucratic analysis and arcane logic trees. The best strategies are now built rapidly and revised iteratively, through continuous market learning: generate a hypothesis-“beta product,” quickly release and test it, learn from your frequent failures, revise and repeat the cycle—until the right model emerges and gets traction. Over time, take it to scale, but keep revising as you learn more.
Blending Old And New
This more dynamic approach also benefits from blending in some of the classic strategic discipline. For example: clarifying (and periodically updating) a vision of success; combining opportunity and cost analysis with trial and testing to prioritize the best option to reach the vision; identifying resources and accountability to scale up as tests start to succeed; establishing formal mechanisms to learn and adapt the strategy at regular intervals.
The White House has lots of good material to start on a comprehensive, long-term strategy for all of us. The Coronavirus Task Force must start integrating the wisdom of many well-drawn ideas, while also bringing best-of-breed “lean” thinking into the mix. Our nation is overdue for a well-drawn plan for the next several chapters of managing this pandemic: a strategy for how we will find the appropriate balance between saving lives and getting back to work, and making the right trade-offs between need, opportunities, and risk. We must also hear how the plan’s design will accommodate forthcoming new knowledge and further changes in the environment. More harsh winds and unpredictable waves will come.
Civic Expectations
Finally, this nation has the right to hear a fact-based defense of the strategy to be presented—that it is indeed the right choice. It’s time for our president to shift from update briefings, and start answering the not just “what” but now also “why” and “how” strategic questions:
1. What assumptions about the disease and our economy in the coming twelve months guided the decision you are making and the strategy behind it?
2. In making the decision, what other strategic choices did you consider? What were their relative merits, costs, and potential trade-offs? How did you make those assessments?
3. What is the “vision for success” for your preferred choice—if all goes well, what can we look forward to? What sacrifices—human, economic, social—will the strategy demand of us citizens?
4. How will this strategy be implemented? Who has accountability for its rollout and success? How should we measure their performance?
5. What will this plan require of our democracy? How should states, the federal government, and citizens now work together? How will this be different from today?
6. How will this strategy adapt to new and unpredictable circumstances over time?
7. What accountability will you, as this nation’s president, personally accept for the strategy’s long-term success?
A local resident kneels as she prays for the victims of the coronavirus outside the emergency room of the Elmhurst Hospital Center on April 06, 2020 in the Queens borough of New York City. (Photo by Robert Nickelsberg/Getty Images) GETTY IMAGES
