THE EFFECTIVE PROBLEMSOLVER #102
Let’s start with something good:
Most people genuinely care about others — especially those they know and live alongside.
When we say we care about the community, we often mean we care about neighbors who are struggling, about local kids getting a fair shot, about keeping our shared spaces safe and welcoming.
There’s something deeply human and admirable in wanting to support the people right around us.
But let’s be honest: community is doing a lot of heavy lifting these days.
Too often, the word gets used like a magic wand — waved around to shut down debate, signal moral superiority, or imply consensus where there isn’t any.
“I’m doing this for the community.”
“The community wants this.”
“If you don’t support this, you’re not really for the community.”
It sounds nice. It feels good. But it’s often a shortcut around the harder work of clarity, humility, and grappling with real difference.
Here’s the thing: communities aren’t abstract blobs.
They’re made up of individuals, families, networks of friends, neighborhoods, organizations, and businesses — each with their own lived experiences, interests, fears, and hopes.
And yes, they often disagree.
What’s best for a local artist might not be what a small business owner wants. A nonprofit might advocate for something that a neighborhood association resists. A parent of young kids and an elder aging in place may have different definitions of safety, vitality, or belonging.
So when we say “the community wants this,” we should pause.
Do we really mean everyone? Or just the people who agree with us?
Are we seeking alignment? Or just hiding our preferences behind a velvet curtain of virtue?
As George Orwell warned in Politics and the English Language, vague words like these can be “used to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”
And when we obscure reality with slippery language, we risk confusing ourselves as much as others.
This isn’t about nitpicking word choice. It’s about doing better, deeper work.
Because communities are strongest not in spite of their differences, but because of them.
E pluribus unum — out of many, one — is not a call for sameness. It’s a reminder that unity emerges through thoughtful negotiation of diversity, not by pretending disagreement doesn’t exist.
So, what can we do instead?
Let’s take back the power of language and make it work for clarity and impact. A few tips:
- Be specific.
- Instead of: “The community wants affordable housing.”
- Try: “Many long-time renters and service providers in this area have asked for more affordable options close to transit.”
- Name trade-offs.
- “Some neighbors are excited about more nightlife downtown. Others are concerned about noise. Both want to feel that their voices matter.”
- Clarify your own position.
- “In my conversations with local parents and business owners, I’ve heard a lot of support for [X]. That aligns with my own view, and here’s why…”
- Ask better questions.
- Instead of asking, “What does the community want?”
- Ask, “What do different groups within this community need, hope for, or worry about — and how might we navigate the tensions between them?”
- Avoid speaking for people unless invited.
- If you’re advocating for someone else, name who they are and how you know what they’ve said. Better yet, invite them to speak for themselves.
None of this makes your job harder — it makes your impact greater.
Sloppy language leads to sloppy thinking, and sloppy thinking leads to ineffective action.
Clearer language helps us engage with complexity honestly. It keeps us accountable to those we claim to serve. It invites others in rather than pushing them away with sweeping generalizations.
We all want stronger communities.
But how we define stronger, and how we get there, is anything but simple.
That’s not a weakness — it’s an opportunity. It’s our invitation to dig deeper, listen better, and lead with integrity.
See you in two weeks.
