On May 12, at the invitation of the graduating MPA/MIPA candidates, I shared remarks at the 2024 graduation ceremony in the Wisconsin State Assembly chambers. Here’s what I had to say - or you can watch the video here.
Thank you graduates for inviting me to address you. An invitation to speak at graduation is an honor for anyone, but for me it’s also a delight. That’s because, to be honest with you, I love commencement.
I love commencement! I know it’s not cool to love commencement, but I love everything about it. The smiles, the selfies, the happy families, the marching and the music, and the magnificent outfits we get to wear! This is the fanciest suit I own, and I only get to use it once a year. It’s like the Met Gala for nerds.
Most of all I love the palpable optimism of this day. Commencement is a moment full of promise.
It’s also an honor for us to be in this beautiful space. It’s a building that projects solidity and strength, but also light and hope. At the time it was constructed, Wisconsin’s government was dominated by Union Army veterans. In many ways the entire thing is a monument to the Union cause. The eagle behind me is “Old Abe,” was a mascot to an Infantry Regiment from Eau Claire.
The entire structure is rich in symbolism and meaning. It’s a physical representation of the ideals of democracy and it’s a reminder that those ideals can persist, even through the most terrible ideological conflicts.
And that makes this the perfect place to celebrate La Follette School graduates.
We are living through another moment of heightened ideological conflict. Don’t get me wrong, we are not on the brink of a civil war. Ignore the movies and the message boards and the doomsday preppers. There’s no need to grab a rifle and head for the hills.
But there’s no question that we are in a polarized time. In the electorate, the economy, in businesses and civic life, the ideological middle is shrinking and the tails of the distribution are growing. The number of Americans who identify as “extremely liberal” or “extremely conservative” has doubled over the past 30 years.
Rising extremism pervades our institutions: in the media, in political parties, in state legislatures, in congress, even in the courts—extremism is on the rise. It turns out that there’s one institution that’s been curiously resistant to ideological extremism—more on that in a moment. But overall extremism is on the rise around the world; it’s sparked political violence and destruction across the country. We saw it in boarded up buildings and torn-down statues in Madison a few years ago. We saw it in an attack on the US Capitol on January 6th.
These are tense times.
In case you haven’t heard, it turns out we’re having another election this year. I don’t know who’s going to win, but I’m confident that it’s not going to help our polarization problem.
Ideological extremism is nothing new, but there’s a different character to that polarization of the moment. What we’re seeing is not so much conflict over policy, but rather a divide over the very legitimacy of governance institutions.
Distrust of institutions—and especially distrust of government—is common to both extreme liberals and extreme conservatives. On the extreme left, government is an instrument of repression that sustains an oppressive and unjust social order. On the extreme right, government is corrupt, wasteful, and also an instrument of repression upholding an unjust social order. For extreme lefties, public agencies are part of “the establishment;” for extreme righties, they’re “the deep state.”
That’s a very different kind of polarization that divides the public in a very different way: not left/right or liberal/conservative, but rather institutional and anti-institutional.
In case you’re wondering which side of that line you’re on, the degree you’re receiving today should give you a hint. You are sitting in a government building, receiving a degree in public affairs at a state university, from a school named after a politician. That’s about as institutional as you can get.
We’re institutionalists! That doesn’t mean we think institutions are perfect--heck, much of what we learn at La Follette study is how institutions and public policies fail. But we’re not here to burn it all down. Left, right, or center, we’re people who believe that public policy can advance the public good.
And we believe in evidence-based policy. Evidence-based policy—we say it so often that we sometimes fail to stop and consider what that really means. Much more than a slogan, it is in fact a profound moral statement, and one that’s out of step with the dominant discourse of the moment.
To believe in evidence-based policy is to believe that data and reason advance the public good in different and better ways than brute assertions of power or angry howls of grievance. Leading with facts and data takes on particular significance in a diverse democracy. A scientific approach to policy provides a common language and builds common ground in turbulent times and fractious places.
That’s the approach you’ve learned at La Follette. You’ve learned how rationality and incentives shape behaviors. You’ve learned that solutions seek problems every bit as much as problems drive solutions. You’ve learned how organizations turn policy ideas into policy outcomes. And you’ve learned to analyze data in pursuit of understanding what works and what does not.
Applying those lessons in professional life demands an unflinching, analytical approach to public policy--and in this moment, that takes courage.
Think about your area of interest for a moment—health, security, education, transportation, finance, whatever—and think about your strongest policy belief; the thing you just know is right and would make the world a better place. Then ask yourself some questions:
How can I get my policy adopted, without force or fiat, in a diverse republic where others disagree with me?
What practical implementation problems will arise as I try to make my idea a reality?
Then ask yourself the hardest question of all:
What evidence would persuade me that I’m wrong? What kind of data would convince me that my cherished idea might not actually work very well?
Ideologues cannot even bring themselves to ask such questions, but those questions are at the heart of public policy as an academic field and public administration as a profession. Our methods and models and principles are simply incompatible with ideological extremism.
Remember how I mentioned that there’s one institution that’s been curiously resistant to polarization? It’s the bureaucracy. Over the past 30 years, the share of public employees who hold ideologically extreme beliefs remains low, even as extremism has grown in virtually every sector of society.
That makes sense, if you think about it. Working in public policy demands compromise and willingness to work in places and with people that you might not always like. Getting it done, getting it right, sometimes means getting dirty. This is no profession for puritans.
Soon you’ll put your LaFollette skills to work if you haven’t already—crunching numbers, writing memos, managing budgets, negotiating policy, working with clients, and a hundred more unglamorous tasks that make up the life of a policy professional.
If you do it right, you will inevitably anger somebody, and some folks will never trust you. You are now the establishment; you are the deep state.
But that’s ok. Because when we get it right, the discipline we practice leads to better outcomes. And effective public policy—public policy that really works—strengthens institutions.
I recently coauthored a book called the Profits of Distrust, which links the rise of the bottled water industry to distrust of water utilities and environmental regulations. At one level, it’s a book about drinking water. But at a deeper level it’s a book about democracy. That’s because people’s experiences with public services shape their understanding of institutions and their willingness to participate in civic life. Excellent, open, and equitable public policy don’t merely satisfy needs, it strengthens faith in democracy.
Healthier water makes a healthier republic. So do healthier foods, better hospitals, safer streets, reliable energy, a cleaner environment, smarter kids, and everything else the state helps deliver. When policy works well, so does democracy. It’s the virtuous cycle that sustains our institutions.
And so I’m optimistic—and you should be, too. The weeks and months ahead promise to be contentious. The attack ads have already begun. Ideologues on all sides will tell you that the world is burning, that democracy is dying, that the institutions of the republic are irredeemably flawed. All that can lead to a kind of depressed nihilism—a belief that the challenges we face are too great to overcome.
We know better.
It’s not hopeless—it’s just hard.
At a moment when extremism pulls us apart, an unyielding commitment to evidence-based policy draws us together and moves us forward.
So long after the last selfie, when the marches and music are finished, and I’ve stored away the regalia for another year, my optimism will remain because of who you are and what you do.
Thank you so much, and congratulations, La Follette Class of 2024.
On, Wisconsin!