Trust, Authenticity, and the American Election

Shake and shake the ketchup bottle. None’ll come and then a lot’ll. Ogden Nash might have been writing about the new brand of populism sweeping the land when he wrote that bit of doggerel.

The U.S. presidential election last fall (and other elections across countries of “the West”) shook the complacency of many while surfacing trends that had been silently swelling below the surface.

But before I tread further into this dangerous territory, I want to echo Mark Twain with a firm disclaimer: Person’s attempting to discern in this column any political preferences or partisan pejoratives will get no encouragement, help, or evidence from me!

So why am I writing about it at all now? Because I really think those trends and events have been broadly and uniquely instructive to Meed and our stakeholders — especially our current and future bank and credit union partners. I feel compelled to articulate my observations while they are still fresh and relevant, but I don’t want to stir up political passions that cloud the view.

Deal? No preferences or pejoratives here? Okay, four observations.

1. If you’re an institution, you probably have a trust problem.

Forget whether your organization deserves it; mistrust is a long-time trend affecting all our institutions. Churches. Government. Military. Healthcare. Law enforcement. Education. Business…

We know why trust fades. Those ostensibly served by an institution come to believe that its leaders are looking out for their own interests. They continue paying lip service to the old ideals but betray them with their actions.

This time around, it was the mainstream media making the unwelcome discovery of its trust deficit. Slowly, but then suddenly, they learned that their lack of objectivity had cost them the ability to marshal opinion the way they used to. Whether it is journalists openly cheerleading, or preachers taking from the poor, doctors playing the reimbursement system, or bankers dipping into customer accounts, hospitals racking up egregious charges, or bankers creating unwanted accounts, profound betrayals create cynicism.

I am a born banker — a banking idealist, so it’s doubly distressing to see mistrust taking root there. The lesson for me from the past election? Scrutinize everything we do to keep our actions in line with our ideals.

2. Institutional trust fades quietly; not with angry words and street protests.

When institutions pay lip service to old ideals while failing to demonstrate them, they apparently find themselves remarkably persuasive. How else could they be so astonished when they finally realize that their people (customers, patients, parishioners, viewers, readers) don’t believe them?

The people who feel betrayed don’t go out and demonstrate about it. Those shamed for their beliefs don’t change them; they go silent. When they go silent, they don’t show up in polls anymore. Their revenge is silent — it’s not even vengeful. They just take their disappointment elsewhere. The other guy gets their business. The other side gets their vote.

Mainstream media might have discerned a trust issue when political ad revenue plunged during the primary season, and then again when the Republican Convention was a huge hit on social media but not on TV. In 1972 during the Watergate scandal, trust in media was 72%. Now, it’s 32%; two out of three people do not trust the media.

Banks for years might have noticed all those customer accounts they “retained” while the balances drained away. Today it might be the stark absence of Gen X and Millennial loyalty to their banks.

I completely understand (and probably have been guilty of) the urge to explain away a faltering leadership initiative by saying, “They just don’t get it. We need to work on our messaging.” But it’s almost never what we’re saying; it’s what we are not doing. We are not listening. If you’re losing trust, the signs are there. See them before it’s too late.

The lesson for me? Speak with an authentic voice. Say what we mean and mean what we say. Keep our commitments even (especially!) when they inconvenience us.

3. “Know your customer” doesn’t mean poll your base.

Too often polling, intentionally or not, turns out to be an exercise in confirming the pollster’s bias or just old-fashioned self-delusion. Like the boy whose father is trying to teach him to hit fungoes. Time after time the boy tosses the ball, swings, and misses. The father is about to abandon the lesson when the son says proudly, “Dad, ain’t I a great pitcher?”

When campaigns delude themselves about voters, voters recognize it. Imagine a guy who farms 5,000 acres with a million dollars’ worth of digitized equipment, serves on the school board or town council, and spends his evenings helping his kids with their homework — but has no college diploma. Imagine his surprise when he gets labeled uneducated? Or the guy with a GED who owns a $250,000 semi-truck, can fix almost anything on it, runs his business online out of the cab and knows the entire map of the United States like the back of his hand — does he really add up to just “blue collar”?

In much the same way, if somebody works two jobs but can’t buy a home or get a credit card because of her nursing school college debt, is she the unbanked? Is the sidewalk entrepreneur in Danang who supports a family of five with a business he started with a $30 microloan — is he the underbanked?

The lesson for me: Let our customers tell us who they are. Get rid of “handy” labels and categories that reflect our view of them — use their words.

4. Change doesn’t have to look like tradition or even respect it. Sometimes it looks like chaos — or just plain crazy.

Now remember my disclaimer. I’m talking about lessons to be learned, not political preferences. And the truth is, the winner of the election broke with a lot of cherished tradition. Every political reporter learned how to spell “unprecedented” and used it a lot.

The winner lacked a ground game and grassroots organization. Spent a fraction of the money ($300 million versus $2.2 billion). Took to Twitter more than TV ads. Created his own newsroom. Spent more on hats than polling. Spoke intemperately and unapologetically. Showed up in places he was expected to cede.

He took the traditional model of campaigning, decorum, communication and turned it on its head. It often looked more like a series of rookie mistakes and happenstance, not a deliberate campaign. Mainstream media ridiculed the spectacle. Supporters wondered, “Does he even want to win?”

If the old model isn’t working for you, if you’re committed to developing a new one, if you believe in your new model, and if the people you want on your side find your new model appealing — well, wouldn’t you’d be crazy not to stick to your guns? You have the advantage of being authentic — of not having to constantly poll your message and tweak it.

All in all, the election reminded me of the value of authenticity and the fragility of trust. Now is a good time to recommit to the former and cherish the latter.