Trump and the MAGA movement have used their conspiratorial belief in a “deep state” to suggest that all government workers engage in nefarious efforts to change “their” America into the hellscape pictured by Trump’s disordered brain.
The article begins by explaining the genesis of a little-known award issued by the Partnership for Public Service.
Founded the year before by an entrepreneur named Samuel Heyman, it set out to attract talented and unusual people to the federal workforce. One big reason talented and unusual people did not gravitate to the government was that the government was often a miserable place for talented and unusual people to work. Civil servants who screwed up were dragged before Congress and into the news. Civil servants who did something great, no one said a word about. There was thus little incentive to do something great, and a lot of incentive to hide. The awards were meant to correct that problem. “There’s no culture of recognition in government,” said Max Stier, whom Heyman hired to run the Partnership. “We wanted to create a culture of recognition.”
The award got off to a slow start. Among the first recipients were two FBI agents who cracked the cold case of the 1963 bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham.
Another went to a doctor at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention who designed and ran a program that delivered a billion vaccinations and eradicated polio in India. A third was given to a man inside the Energy Department who had been sent to a massive nuclear waste dump outside Denver, containing enough radioactive gunk to fill 90 miles of railroad cars, and told to clean it up. He finished the project $30 billion under budget and 60 years ahead of schedule — and turned the dump into a park.
All these people had done astonishing things. None had much to say about them. The Partnership called the Colorado guy to see if he wanted to explain the miracle he’d performed. “I just managed the project,” he said. End of story. No story.
This year’s list included a woman at the Agriculture Department who reduced food waste by creating products from fruits and vegetables unsuitable for market, a 400 billion dollar problem; a man in the EPA who conceived and started a service called AIRNow that supplies Americans with the best air-quality forecasts in the world; and a special agent at the Drug Enforcement Administration who led a team that seized 919,088 capsules of especially lethal fentanyl.
The bulk of the article–and although it is fascinating, it is definitely “bulky”–focused on this year’s winner: a man named Christopher Mark, who led the development of “industry-wide standards and practices to prevent roof falls in underground mines, leading to the first ever year (2016) of no roof fall fatalities in the United States.”
Mark is identified as a former coal miner. That description is accurate, although incomplete: he earned a doctorate in engineering after rejecting college for a few years of mine work and political activism after high school. He has used his fixation with mine safety to solve problems previously thought to be insoluble, and in the process has saved many lives.
As Mark has noted, improvements in mine safety relied upon more than just his very significant breakthroughs. In response to a suggestion that his innovations had been the sole reason for the dramatic safety improvements, he clarified that two things had been necessary: new knowledge plus legislation enhancing enforcement. It took enforcement to ensure that mine owners would actually follow the rules and put the new knowledge into practice. “What actually happened was the regulators were finally empowered to regulate. Regulators needed to be able to enforce.”
The article is fascinating, not simply for Mark’s story, but for its rare–and refreshingly honest–look at government work.
When I joined the Indianapolis city administration back in 1977, I brought with me many of the widespread negative impressions of “government workers,” who were–I assumed–folks unable to get jobs in the private sector, people who worked relatively short hours, etc. It didn’t take long for me to discover how very wrong I was. There were certainly some duds, as there are in every workplace, but most of the people I worked with during my three-year stint as head of City Legal were whip smart and devoted to public service. Many worked long hours. Almost all of them cared deeply about what Mayor Bill Hudnut used to call “building a great city.”
They’re the real “deep state.” We’re fortunate to have them.
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