So I have been using the holiday weekend to buckle down on my upcoming presentation to the Alameda Fisheries Work group in December. They are eager to think about the new beaver rules about beaver introduction and whether they can be welcomed in the upper watershed there for their positive impact on fish. Of course Michael Pollock is the speaker they really want but they allowed me to tag along because they thought maybe I would have some insights on navigating alliances and persuading stakeholders about beaver benefits. This made me think about what worked and what didn’t work in Martinez.
And I have to say honestly that like any new student I went naively to the beaver library and came back with an armful of facts about why beavers are good for streams and fish and fires and watertables and birds and otters. And I was sure that with this great knowledge, a patient spirit, a dispassionate presentation, my formidable professional psychologist skills and some excellent graphics the whole thing would be a slam dunk. An easy win. After the fair hearing the court would be adjourned in my favor.
I really thought introducing people to the well researched facts would change their behavior.
Um.
What I found looked a lot more like this. A firm quarter of the committee members were persuaded by science. The watershed people and the flood control people were interested in what I was talking about. To persuade them I had to present it to them really cleanly and compellingly, connect them to alternate sources of information, and be willing to answer questions or present information at the drop of a hat. I couldn’t appear to care too much about the outcome. One night I filled in for an Audubon speaker and suddenly the next evening Alhambra watershed asked me to present. Another night the wildlife chair of the sierra club invited me at the last minute to their meeting in Alameda and I actually had to cancel patients to be there because I knew it was a deal-breaker, The science part was hard work. I had to talk about things outside my comfort zone to intimidating professionals that had lived their adult lives steeped in words like riparian and hydrology. But it was familiar dissertation-like doable work.
The rest required more subtle forms of persuasion and I had to figure that out on the fly. It took the form of massive public interest (in which media and children played a huge part) and correspondingly significant self-interest. To my great surprise, when people decided they cared about the beavers and couldn’t be talked out of it the city leaders decided they cared very much about their own careers and political futures and were willing to listen to information that might help. It reminded me of that horrible old joke about the donkey and bricks. First you really did have to get their attention.
I’ve since learned that the self-interest piece can take many forms, not just re-election: Salmon population. Amphibian population. Cattle forage. Climate Change. Fire risk, Waterfowl numbers. I consider it my job to find what my audience cares about and drive beaver lessons in that direction. Fortunately beavers are good for pretty much everything. Only rarely is their interest about the beavers themselves. Sometimes that bothers me. But mostly it’s okay.
If beavers are allowed to stick around, I find they will make their own impression.
