Mrs. Baughman said we were going to elect a classroom president. Someone nominated me. I guess the point was to teach us fourth graders how democracy worked. The ballot was secret, but voting for myself felt boastful. Of course I lost the election — by one vote.

I think many cause leaders similarly undersell themselves. Sometimes modesty is the culprit. Other times it’s because they haven’t prioritized communications.

But as we’ve seen a lot lately, if you don’t control your narrative, someone else will.

I know the reasons communications isn’t a priority. I also know the most frequent mistakes nonprofits and foundations make. So here’s four angles on how we can improve, plus a process that reveals an easier way to do so.

As comfortable as painting in my studio is, I have to venture out occasionally to try and up my game. This involves traveling to workshops where the other artists are usually more accomplished than me, and I’m playing over my head on purpose. It’s completely exhausting, and completely worth it.

The very best instructors don’t want you to paint like them or follow instructions. They move from one person’s easel to the next, asking questions about your process and struggles. It would be easy for them to “fix” your canvas, but instead, through extremely focused dialogue, they problem-solve with you. In more scientific terms, this is called Collaborative Troubleshooting. And it can benefit most anything, from improving my painting to parenting your teenager.

But there’s one place it’s practiced too infrequently: cause communications. Nonprofits plead for help from donors. Prevention messaging attempts to threaten and scare. Executives keep staff on a need-to-know tether. Here’s a better way to handle those three dialogues and how each can benefit from collaborative troubleshooting.

Summer has me thinking back on the vacations of my youth. They involved a potent mix – Myrtle Beach and the 1970s. Part of the ritual was my dad steering our land yacht past the many-themed motels on Ocean Drive, scouting for vacancies.

What I can’t believe is that we drove four and a half hours – without knowing where we were going to stay. But now we’ve all grown accustomed to planning everything. We try to achieve that same predictability at work. Beyond an HR surprise here and there, we pretty much know what to expect. Until recently.

For many, this is like being far from home and not knowing if we have a room for the night. I can’t promise the road ahead will be smooth, but a little behavioral science — and a four-step formula for action — might make the ride easier.

How much is enough? Most people can’t answer this question. Based on actions, not words, “more than I have” seems accurate. But “more” is not a finite answer. It’s an elusive objective. The lack of consensus on “How much is enough?” is the biggest source of conflict there is.

Today’s political rancor is but the most current expression of a timeless squabble over the distribution of wealth. It’s left us to worry about our organizations, the people we serve, and society at large. In this time of unknowns, our organizations could soothe themselves with more certainty in answering “How much is enough?” Read on to learn how these two steps can help you do just that.

There’s a calmness and novel perspective that comes from looking at art. Recently, I found both in an email from the Jerald Melberg Gallery. Their “Highlight of the Week” featured the quilts of the women of Gee’s Bend. For generations, these Black women in rural Alabama have used recycled household materials to craft beautiful textiles.

This made me think a lot about scarcity. It’s the center of gravity for many of those we serve. The struggles it creates are unfair and often tragic. But sometimes, its conditions give way to resurgence. As we confront shrinking budgets and heightened pressure, understanding how scarcity affects behavior in these three critical areas can help us better serve others and remain grounded in what matters most.

I never thought of leaving Manhattan until a news anchor announced that the bridges and tunnels were all closed. When we recall major life events, it’s often the frightening times that stand out. September 11th tops the list for me, but that also includes the dot-com crash, the Great Recession, and COVID. Now, joining those vivid mile markers is the chaos created by the current executive branch.

Psychologically, understanding why we’re so shaken in these moments helps us see things more objectively and move through paralysis. So here’s a behavioral economics breakdown that — eventually, I promise — provides a light to walk towards.

Thinking back to childhood, the grocery store looms large. When you’re a kid in a supermarket, time stands still. My mother’s review of the weekly circular and clipped coupons sentenced me to an eternity of shelf scanning and pointless coveting of things she’d never be talked into. The time thievery then culminated in more waiting in the checkout line.

In behavioral economics, friction refers to anything — waiting in line, for example — that makes it harder to take action. Modern retailers hate friction. It’s also the enemy of causes seeking behavioral change. If you take one thing away from this article, let it be this: People don’t fail to change because of a lack of knowledge, but a lack of ease. Like their e-commerce counterparts, savvy user-experience designers have removed friction wherever possible. Learn how and check out these five causes that took big steps to overcome sticky barriers.

Some of our most serious issues have one big thing in common – their consequences usually aren’t immediate. From heart disease to climate change, the impact of our behavior, be it individual or collective, has a long-time horizon. And the long view isn’t where the human brain excels. We’re simply wired to find today a lot more real than an abstract future.

Unfortunately, most cause messaging doesn’t take this into account, or use it to the issue’s advantage. So here are the four framing tactics I see fail most-often, plus a key perspective shift that plays to the brain’s strengths when you’re looking to incite change.

I’ve spoken with so many nonprofit leaders navigating the excruciating consequences of the new administration’s slash-and-burn approach to federal policy. And many are preparing for a near-term future marked by increased competition for private grants and donors.

Operational shifts will be necessary for most. Here are three examples of this kind of counterintuitive pivot.

I’m not handy. I wish it were different, but no amount of renovation-based television programming or YouTube videos seems to change things. I can be stymied by the simplest of repairs, so much so that I’ve found it less awkward to hire someone at the outset rather than engage them after I’ve botched things up on my own. I’ve seen the cause marketing equivalent of my conundrum often enough that I’ve decided to share a few common signals that your endeavor may outstrip your current capabilities.