It's a coincidence that Presidential campaigns and hurricane seasons overlap. But they have one thing in common: they're dramatic, unfolding stories. Stories with a sense of urgency.
Last fall Barack Obama said, "I am running in this race because of what Dr. King called 'the fierce urgency of now.' Because I believe that there is such a thing as being too late, and that hour is almost upon us."
The hour is much closer now, and the challenge for both parties is to convey the urgency that will win votes in November.
Watch how TV crews report the approach of Hurricane Gustav. Maps of its path. Clouds swirling around the eye. Palm trees bent double in Haiti. Reporters on the beach, roiling surf behind them and winds buffeting their sou'westers. People boarding up their windows, or standing in grocery store lines with carts full of diapers and bottled water.
Implicit in all the images is a single message: It's time to act.
At political conventions, it's the speeches that must convey urgency. And effective speeches are not wonky policy statements; they're stories. Stories that convey urgency, stories with emotion.
It's not news that stories are among the best ways to communicate and convince. But this week's Democratic National Convention has demonstrated why.
Michelle Obama's story was about family. Hillary Clinton's story was about women. Bill Clinton's was about what it takes to be President. Joe Biden's was about his roots, his personal tragedy, and John McCain.
All of them focused squarely on connecting with the audience -- not so much with the delegates in the convention hall as with the television audience. Joe Biden may have done it best when he talked about taking the train home from Washington every night and imagined the conversations taking place in the homes he passes along the tracks. The homes of ordinary Americans worried about the future.
What makes us feel urgency?
We feel it when the stakes are high. When time is short. When we know an outcome depends on making the right decision.
Most of all, we feel it when a crisis affects us directly. When we're smack in the path of the oncoming storm.
The reason the economy has trumped Iraq on the list of things Americans are most worried about is because it hits us where we live: when we can't sell our homes; when we can't afford gas or heating oil or groceries or prescriptions. The staggering economy is a hurricane that's struck us all. The speakers used stories to focus on these issues and to frame the choices.
In the weeks to come, Democrats will tell us that electing John McCain will mean four more years of war in Iraq and Supreme Court appointees who will eliminate a woman's right to choose. Republican will say Obama is too liberal and is unprepared for the Presidency.
Both parties will tell us, correctly, that the choice is ours, that making the right one is critical, and that the outcome will affect us directly.
When he accepts his party's nomination tonight, Barack Obama's story must not only be heavier on specifics than it has been so far; it must convince Americans to trust him and see him as one of them. As consultant Dee Dee Myers put it, "he has to go from the stadium to the diner."
FDR did that, despite his patrician roots. Clinton did it. Ronald Reagan and George Bush did it. John Kerry did not.
Tomorrow John McCain will announce his choice for VP, and next week the Republicans will take the stage. And between now and November 4, both camps will spin out the stories they hope will win our votes.
Communicators should listen carefully to how they do it.
