Who Asked for This?

Advocacy Red Flags: Things That Should Make You Ask More Questions

Who Asked for This?

There is a question I wish more people would ask before celebrating the newest bill, program, policy proposal, nonprofit initiative, task force, awareness campaign, or Very Important Working Group:

Who asked for this?

Not:

Who announced it?

Who sponsored it?

Who got their logo on the press release?

Who gets to stand behind the podium?

Who gets a shiny social media graphic saying they are “delivering results”?

I mean:

Who in the affected community actually said this was the problem they needed solved?

Because sometimes there is a very large difference between what a community needs and what institutions decide would be nice to give them.

And that difference matters.

Solutions Looking for Problems

Good advocacy should generally begin with a problem.

People are struggling with something.

A benefit is inadequate.

A law creates an unintended consequence (Kudzu).

A program is inaccessible.

A policy leaves people behind.

A system is unnecessarily complicated.

People affected by that problem start talking about it, collecting evidence, comparing experiences, and eventually pushing for change.

That is how it should work.

But sometimes advocacy runs in reverse.

Someone has an idea. (and we know the “Good idea Fairy”is really active in all aspects the military community)

An organization has a funding opportunity.

A legislator needs a bill.

A department wants to launch a new initiative.

A nonprofit wants a new program.

A coalition needs something to announce.

And suddenly everyone starts searching for a population that the idea can supposedly help.

That is when you sometimes end up with a solution wandering around Washington wearing a name tag that says:

“Please find me a problem.”

Did Anyone Ask the People Actually Living With the Problem?

One of the easiest mistakes in advocacy is assuming that proximity equals understanding.

Someone works for a veterans organization, so obviously they know what veterans need.

Someone works for a military family organization, so obviously they understand military spouses.

Someone works for a survivor organization, so obviously they know what surviving families need.

Maybe.

But organizations are not communities.

Staff members are not automatically representative samples.

Advisory boards are not always representative either.

Neither are conferences filled with the same people who attend every conference.

If the people designing a policy are talking primarily to each other, eventually they can create an impressive amount of agreement without ever discovering whether the people outside the room agree at all.

That is not necessarily malicious.

Sometimes it is just institutional tunnel vision.

But the result can be the same.

“We Heard From Stakeholders”

That phrase always gets my attention.

Which stakeholders?

How many?

From where?

Representing whom?

Were they national organizations?

Local organizations?

Paid staff?

Volunteers?

People receiving the benefit?

People denied the benefit?

People who tried to use the program and gave up halfway through the application?

Were rural communities included?

Guard and Reserve families?

Junior enlisted families?

Caregivers?

Surviving spouses?

Parents?

Adult children?

People who do not belong to any organization at all?

Because “stakeholder engagement” can mean hundreds of people across a community.

Or it can mean six organizations on a conference call.

Those are not the same thing.

The People Who Need Help May Not Be in the Room

This becomes especially important in the military and veteran community.

The people most affected by a bad policy are often the least likely to be sitting in Washington conference rooms discussing it.

They may be working.

Caregiving.

Trying to navigate VA claims.

Trying to pay bills.

Trying to transition out of the military.

Trying to find childcare.

Trying to understand survivor benefits.

Trying to find housing.

Trying to figure out why three agencies have given them four different answers.

They may not have a Government Relations department.

They may not know which congressional committee has jurisdiction.

They probably do not have a lobbyist.

They might not even know someone is discussing a policy that will affect them until the press release comes out.

That does not mean they do not have an opinion.

It means nobody asked.

Good Intentions Are Not Enough

Most bad policy probably does not begin with someone rubbing their hands together and saying:

“How can we make life worse for military families today?”

Usually, people believe they are helping.

But good intentions are not a substitute for good policy.

A program can be well-intentioned and useless.

A benefit can sound generous while being nearly impossible to access.

A bill can have a wonderful title while solving the wrong problem.

A nonprofit initiative can generate excellent publicity while doing very little for the people it supposedly serves.

This is why questions matter.

Not because every proposal is secretly terrible.

But because nobody should be afraid of asking whether the proposal actually addresses the problem.

Ask Before You Applaud

Before celebrating the next big announcement, ask a few basic questions.

Was the problem identified by the affected community?

Were people experiencing the problem involved in designing the solution?

Is there data showing the problem exists at the scale being claimed?

Does the proposed solution address the root problem or just one visible symptom?

Are there already programs doing the same thing?

Could the money, staff time, or legislative attention be better spent fixing something the community has been asking about for years?

And perhaps most importantly:

What happens if this proposal does not work?

Will anyone measure the outcome?

Or will everyone simply count the announcement as the accomplishment?

Sometimes the Community Has Already Told You What It Needs

This is another frustrating part.

Sometimes people have been asking for the same reforms for years.

They testify.

Write letters.

Submit comments.

Meet with congressional offices.

Fill out surveys.

Serve on advisory committees.

Tell their stories over and over again.

Then a brand-new initiative appears addressing something entirely different.

And everyone is told how excited they should be about it.

Meanwhile, the original problem is still sitting in the corner waving politely.

This is where advocacy can become disconnected from the people it claims to represent.

The system starts rewarding activity instead of responsiveness.

A new program looks productive.

A new bill looks productive.

A new coalition looks productive.

A new task force definitely looks productive.

Actually fixing the boring, complicated problem people have complained about for ten years?

Apparently that is less exciting.

Sometimes the Answer Will Be “Yes”

And that matters too.

Not every new idea deserves suspicion.

Sometimes a legislator identifies a real problem before it becomes widely discussed.

Sometimes an organization sees patterns individual families cannot see.

Sometimes researchers uncover an issue the community has not yet recognized.

Sometimes government agencies genuinely innovate.

Sometimes the answer to “Who asked for this?” will be:

A lot of people did.

Excellent.

Show us.

That is exactly what good advocacy should be able to demonstrate.

The question is not meant to kill ideas.

It is meant to make ideas stronger.

Advocacy Should Be a Conversation, Not a Delivery Service

The military community does not need institutions deciding what everyone needs and periodically delivering solutions from above.

Advocacy should be a conversation.

People identify problems.

Organizations listen.

Researchers gather evidence.

Advocates develop possible solutions.

Policymakers evaluate options.

The community provides feedback.

The proposal gets adjusted.

Then everyone measures whether it actually worked.

Messy?

Absolutely.

Slow?

Usually.

Less glamorous than unveiling a finished proposal at a press conference?

Definitely.

But policy affecting real people's lives should probably involve some of those real people before the balloons and podium arrive.

So when the next big announcement appears promising to solve some enormous problem for veterans, military families, caregivers, or survivors, I am probably going to ask the annoying question.

Not because I automatically oppose it.

Not because I enjoy being difficult.

Okay, maybe I enjoy being difficult a little.

But mostly because advocacy should start with listening.

Who asked for this?

And if the answer is unclear, maybe we should figure that out before we start congratulating ourselves.