Over the years, I’ve had similar conversations with many education CEOs, advocates, and entrepreneurs who explain that they have great products or programs, are trying to achieve something big (pushing through legislation, launching a national initiative, or whatever), but are frustrated to suddenly find themselves embroiled in a distracting “culture war.”
I’m usually called in when there’s unexpected backlash and the questioner wants to know, “How can we get these people to focus on the good work we’re doing and not on other things?”
For example, I was on the phone the other day with someone who runs a social-emotional learning program. He told me that their program works well in both Republican and Democratic states. “This isn’t political,” he explained. “This is about enduring, in-demand skills. It’s about addressing common concerns. So we’ve been able to avoid a lot of pretense.”
But he wonders why his group is only now coming under fire, given its recent aggressive efforts on bills and fundraising. In his words, “We’re already in Republican-leaning states. We have a track record. Why are they suddenly so angry?”
Why? When you sell a product or program, you’re selling a solution. But when you promote policy or do advocacy, you’re offering something entirely different: a vision, full of agendas, worldviews and values.
It’s the difference between setting up free health clinics on the one hand and promoting a vision of Medicaid reform on the other. It’s fair to say that if free pediatric care were voluntary, there wouldn’t be as many complaints. But when that kind offer of help turns into something bigger, more coercive, and more intrusive, things get much more complicated.
Now we move from talking about products and services to talking about what should be mandated, whether public funds should be spent, and how the rules should be written. Entering this fray creates a lot of conflict and requires a lot of trust, so skeptics and corruption-chasers who previously didn’t pay much attention will (rightly) start scrutinizing what you say, write, tweet, and who funds you.
It’s easy for people who have built great programs to stick to their guns. The accolades and funding come in when they’re successful. They believe in their model and are confident that they can solve problems “at scale.” The problem is that they quickly abandon what they know and move into territory where they no longer have a solid foundation.
This distinction is important. I’m not saying their success is fake or their expertise is fraudulent. What I am saying is that there is a tendency to confuse one kind of expertise (running individual programs) with an entirely different kind of expertise (changing rules, regulations, funding, and policies).
This kind of dynamic happens all the time in reading and math programs. Entrepreneurs and CEOs explain, often with great frustration, that they don’t want to get caught up in the reading and math wars. They decry the political aspects of it and say, “I just want to do what works. I’m not going to take sides.”
OK, but when you move from selective, individualized programs to deciding what standards, textbooks, curricula, or instructional methods will (or won’t) be required in your school or state’s classrooms, these “differences of opinion” are nearly inevitable. It’s okay to hate “politics.” Politics is just a label for how these (inevitable) disagreements play out.
There are no easy answers. After all, when a promising model exists, it’s understandable to want to expand its reach, even if the results are often disappointing. (See Richard Elmore’s classic 1996 book, “Scaling Good Educational Practices,” for one of the best explanations of this issue, even after 30 years.)
For reference, there are two things to remember:
First, those who have created successful models tend to tone down uncomfortable details in favor of language that appeals to educators. But they often fail to realize that this same sugar-coating approach can alienate many who are skeptical of the buzzwords of education schools and are attracted to rigor, and can stoke backlash in Republican-leaning and Republican-leaning states. And if the program is adopted, it’s a watered-down version that only disappoints. It’s important to understand that tension and manage it from the beginning.
Second, realize that there are different kinds of expertise. Knowing how to run a program is different from knowing how education finance works, what it takes to adapt a program to new circumstances, and how to navigate unfamiliar political landscapes. Successful programs applied at scale require a true “diversity” of skills, knowledge, relationships, and experiences. This means finding a way to proactively identify the mix of expertise you’ll need, and then assembling a team that can cover all your bases, before you’re waist-deep in the mud.
