For Caleigh, Quinn, and Finn

THIS IS AN important book, and it comes at an important time. Leslie Crutchfield has given us a well-researched, highly readable examination of how the messy, complicated world of social change works, and does not.

There’s no real recipe for social change, no “movement in a box” that we can put in place to create a more equitable, just society. This shouldn’t be a surprise. But Leslie has studied a number of organizations and changemakers and given us conclusions that we can apply—if we have the courage and the ability to take up a cause worth fighting for. In other words, we can make change happen.

Most big, important social and environmental issues are daunting and scary, and seem beyond solutions. But this book tells us otherwise. It also shows us that champions and leaders come in all sizes and shapes. And that we can do it, too. In fact, that’s the only way positive, sustainable change will happen.

I’ve been involved in many social change endeavors, including high blood pressure control through my social marketing work at Porter Novelli; striving for women’s empowerment and education at CARE; fighting the tobacco wars at the Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids; advancing age-related causes at AARP; and reforming advanced illness and end-of-life care at the Coalition to Transform Advanced Care (C-TAC). I’ve got the scars to prove it, and Leslie’s insights and conclusions strike me as being right on target.

She gives us a big-picture perspective so that we can look back on what’s happened as a way to inform how we can look forward and plan for future challenges.

More specifically, she shows us how networks and coalitions are critical to success. No single organization is big enough or wealthy enough to tackle huge social and environmental problems alone. Strategic partnerships and alliances across sectors are necessary for change. This requires patience, skill, and ego adjustment. I recall a frustrated participant at an unruly public health meeting saying, “I know how to defeat the tobacco industry; let’s make them work in coalitions!”

Sometimes—or, rather, oftentimes—it takes incredible optimism to fight these battles. Today the gun lobby seems undefeatable. But we can all remember when the tobacco industry was so big and bad (it still is, especially internationally) that it lied to Congress, hired a hoard of law firms, PR and advertising agencies—and had an addictive product to boot. Tobacco’s story seemed unassailable: cigarettes are sexy and alluring; tobacco use is a right (after all, it is a legal product), disease is the smoker’s responsibility, government intrusion is bad, the scientific evidence is in doubt, kids will be kids, and on and on. Take heart; nobody is too big to fall.

Leslie tells us we have to change both hearts and policy, that is, achieve policy reform as well as shift social norms and individual behaviors. So true. Her examination of changing norms and expectations in drunk driving and marriage equality are important examples of how it can work. Media, technology, and policy are important levers for change. Then–vice president Joe Biden helped tip the issue of same-sex marriage when he surprised the nation, and his boss, Barack Obama, by saying he was “absolutely comfortable with . . . men marrying men and women marrying women.” Biden credited his change of heart to the TV show Will & Grace. And for good measure he officiated at the wedding of two gay White House officials at his home a few years later.

But it’s also important to know what stories not to tell . . . what won’t work in shifting norms and expectations. At the Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids, I wanted to attack tobacco company executives. So we came up with a communications concept we called “Does your mother know what you’re doing?” It was about shaming their senior executives. Consumer testing showed us that the concept didn’t work. People hated the industry, but attacking specific individuals seemed to make them too uncomfortable.

Persuasive stories that change minds have to be fact-based, as well as emotional. For example, in our Global Social Enterprise Initiative here at Georgetown, we’re working with the Viscardi Center and the U.S. Department of Labor’s Office of Disability Employment Policy to encourage companies to hire and retain more people with disabilities. We want to persuade human resource professionals that this is the right thing to do and that there is a logical business case, as well. But our research among small- and medium-sized businesses operating at local and regional levels in different parts of the country showed that many HR directors don’t even think of disability as part of diversity and inclusion. So we need to start there, not down the road.

Leslie also shows how the private sector plays an important role in social movements, today, more than ever. Decades ago, in the National High Blood Pressure Education Program (led by the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute at NIH), companies became involved in a quiet way because they realized that we were creating a market for their medications.

But today, as Leslie points out, companies are much more up-front and engaged. They increasingly see that speaking out on public issues, involving their employees, and appealing to their customers can make a positive difference for them and for society. This will probably increase, because the opportunity to create business value through creating social and economic value—with company shareholders and societal stakeholders both benefiting—is one of the most powerful forces driving growth in the global economy. So whether companies are completely or only partially on board with our issues, we need and want them at the table. (Exclude the tobacco companies, please.)

Many of the movements Leslie studied are decades old, and despite their successes, there’s no end in sight. That’s because social change is seldom permanent, and it can be reversed. New generations grow up, lessons are forgotten, program funds are diverted, and technologies emerge.

Again, consider tobacco. While smoking among kids and adults has declined dramatically in the United States, the industry is still an evil global empire. As this is written, Big Tobacco has enough signatures for a ballot initiative to reverse San Francisco’s ban on menthol in cigarettes. Menthol is an alluring flavor that is the choice among half of all kids who begin smoking—and has even greater appeal among African American beginning smokers. At the same time, the industry is working on a new technology that they “promise” will reduce harm while providing the nicotine and flavor smokers crave. Internationally, it’s the wild, wild west; the industry is using many of the same tactics—from advertising to women and children, to product sampling and sponsoring music festivals—that they used to get away with in the United States. No, you can never drop your guard.

Finally, Leslie’s emphasis on leadership cannot be overstated. Leaders make the difference in social movements, as in most human endeavors. But her finding—and our lesson—is that good leaders exist throughout a movement. You don’t have to be the woman or man at the top to be a leader. You can lead from the front, the middle, or the back of the parade. Colin Powell understood that. He said that real leadership is the capacity to influence and inspire. Powell asked this question: “Have you ever noticed that people will personally commit to certain individuals who, on paper or on the organization chart, possess little authority, but instead possess pizzazz, drive, expertise, and genuine caring for teammates?”

Leaders set the direction and take us there. It’s not so much yelling “Charge up that hill,” but more like “Come with me.” And that’s why we can create social change, despite all the obstacles. That’s what makes Leslie’s book so hopeful. She calls it being “leaderfull.” Not “leaderless” or “leader-led.” We can all be engaged, and we can all make a difference.

A few years ago a newspaper article reported that a newly discovered bacterium was apparently eating much of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico and could potentially take care of this enormous problem. Wouldn’t it be great to have a bacterium to attack other big problems, like obesity, socio-economic inequality, or Alzheimer’s?

But no such luck. It turns out the article was inaccurate. There’s no virtuous bug to “eat” the oil spill or any of the other huge problems we face. So we have to tackle them ourselves. That’s what this book is about, and that’s why it’s so important.

Bill Novelli