A Commitment to Process
I was reminded again of my Quaker grandmother’s counsel about the journey from thought to character:
Be careful of your thoughts because thoughts become words, then words become actions, and actions become habits, and habits define a life.”
Two events, along with rereading Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, brought her wisdom back to me. Together, they renewed my appreciation for a principle that applies to athletics, writing, work, and representative government: process matters.
The first event was my granddaughter’s participation in Idaho’s state high school golf tournament in Coeur d’Alene. I adore her. She performed better than her family expected, but not as well as she wanted.
That disappointment can be useful. She encountered an important distinction between expectations and execution: wanting a particular result is not the same as performing the actions necessary to achieve it.
The second reminder was ESPN’s documentary about legendary Alabama coach Nick Saban. Its second episode, appropriately titled “The Process,” brought that distinction into focus.
I played football in high school and college under Hall of Fame coaches. During those eight years, I do not remember winning being the focus of our preparation. I played on two state championship teams and one national championship team, yet our attention remained on preparation, assignments, and the next play.
On the practice field, we looked forward. We looked backward when reviewing film to understand what needed correcting.
Whatever the scoreboard said, our coaches insisted that the score was nothing to nothing. The previous play was finished. Our responsibility was to execute the next one correctly.
The lesson reaches beyond football. The musician practices. The farmer attends to soil, equipment, and weather. The pipefitter measures and checks the joint. The writer writes and revises rather than merely wishing to have written.
The goal establishes direction. Habits determine whether we do the work.
Gladwell’s familiar figure in Outliers is 10,000 hours of practice—not 10,000 repetitions. The number is not a guarantee of greatness, but the underlying point remains valuable: accomplishment requires sustained effort and opportunities to develop skill.
Merely repeating a mistake is not the process I mean. Commitment requires correction, attention, and the humility to learn.
At the golf tournament, I heard girls who had played well in the first round discussing medals before the second round began. Several did not reach the podium. I cannot know what caused their disappointing finishes, but the conversations reminded me how easily tomorrow’s reward can distract us from today’s responsibility.
Which brings me to politics.
Too many politicians in both parties appear more committed to keeping office than performing its duties. A public position can become something to possess rather than a responsibility temporarily entrusted to its holder.
Once that attitude takes hold, governing risks becoming secondary to fundraising, cultivating influence, and maintaining power. The lobbyist gets an appointment; the constituent struggles to receive an answer.
I want representatives who can explain their work on property taxes, grocery taxes, development, healthcare, and immigration. Disagreement is inevitable. Evasion should not be.
Citizens deserve more than campaign promises. They deserve accessible officials, understandable legislation, honest explanations, and accountability for decisions.
Our constitutional system makes process essential. Washington’s Farewell Address emphasized respect for constitutional authority and warned against political factions that place their interests above the public good.
Those concerns remain relevant. A desirable objective does not excuse dishonest methods. Nor does winning an election give an officeholder ownership of the office.
Before voting this November, we should examine candidates’ habits as carefully as their promises.
Do they listen to constituents who disagree with them? Do they explain their votes? Do they acknowledge limits on their authority? Are their financial relationships transparent? Do they treat public office as service or entitlement?
We should ask whether they represent citizens, taxpayers, patients, students, and customers—or principally those who finance their political careers.
Washington put the moral requirement plainly in his Farewell Address: “It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government.”
That standard applies to voters as well as officeholders. We cannot demand honesty while rewarding convenient falsehoods. We cannot condemn special interests only when they support the other party.
My grandmother’s warning begins with thoughts, but it ends with a life. Public life follows a similar progression: tolerated conduct becomes customary conduct, and customary conduct becomes the character of government.
Elections offer an opportunity to interrupt bad habits. But improvement requires more than replacing names on office doors. We must reward the daily practices of representative government.
The athlete must return to the next play. The writer must return to the unfinished sentence. The public official must return to the constituent’s business.
Good intentions establish an ambition. Good habits make it a commitment.
