Photo by Mike Hindle on Unsplash

Unnecessary Roughness

“To wrangle the bad faith machine, city officials must take ownership of the narrative”

The good news is the Kansas City Chiefs are going back to the Super Bowl. It’s their fifth trip in six years and a chance to win an unprecedented three titles in a row. Led once again by head coach Andy Reid and quarterback Patrick Mahomes, they’ve given a generation of Kansas Citians a chance to bore the hell out of their kids and grandkids for a long, long time.

The bad news: we’re all about to be treated to another round of faux outrage about whether Kansas City Mayor Quinton Lucas ought to go to the big game, and if so who should pay his way.

Philadelphia Mayor Cherelle Parker, whose hometown Eagles will face the Chiefs, is likely to get her share, too. There hardly exists a moment of civic pride—a championship run by a local team, a big trade show, an international exhibition featuring local artists or artisans—where a mayor won’t be blasted for deeds that “raise questions” about “politically connected donations” or “public records” or that “foster the perception” of … look, these things write themselves.

Let’s back up a second. Wake me in the wee hours and tell me that a mayor is going to one of America’s biggest secular holiday parties, paid for by a semi-secret nonprofit group whose donors are drawn from politically connected developers, contractors, and lobbyists—or from developers, contractors, and lobbyists who hope to be politically connected—and of course I’ll have, um, questions. But let me have a cup of coffee, take a couple of deep breaths, and really, my only question becomes, what else is the mayor supposed to do?

Mayor Moneybags?

One way to test for the bad faith of a criticism is to ask whether it would disappear if the exact opposite facts were true. Suppose Lucas announced that he wasn’t going to the big game because there wasn’t enough money in his mayoral travel budget to cover the trip. Would all voices be stilled then? You can already hear the talk radio/morning television voices complaining about how His Honor had embarrassed the city as some backwater, or was too cheap to let the world know he cares about civic pride.

And, yes, it may feel a little awkward that the mayor’s trip is financed by a nonprofit slush fund. But try it the other way: suppose the mayor did dip into the city budget to pay for it—think of the outrage then!

Underlying all the beefs about mayoral “junkets” is the implication—whether the critics want to acknowledge it or not—that mayors ought to be rich. Super Bowl tickets are expensive. Hotels and flights and cars add up. But if a mayor can’t make these trips on the taxpayer dime, and if he or she can’t make it with independent donations, where else should the money come from?

The bad faith machine

I’m getting at an uncomfortable truth about civic politics here. In every city there exists a bad faith machine—a kind of informal network of self-appointed critics, journalistic pundits, political opponents—who think their job is to tear city leaders down. “Oh, the mayor’s using taxpayer dollars to go to the big game? Sheer waste! Oh, the mayor’s using private donations to go to the big game? Sheer pelf! Oh, the mayor’s not going to the big game? Sheer embarrassment!”

Of course, government should always be subject to tough questions. But what I’m suggesting here is that city leaders train themselves to listen carefully for the sounds of legitimate, constructive criticism versus those of the bad faith machine’s gears grinding.

In some ways, unelected city officials are more vulnerable to being drawn into the bad faith machine than elected ones. Part of the machine’s function is to grease the gears of anyone who might help grind the elected officials up. I learned this the hard way: When I was Kansas City’s auditor, I was often treated as if I was one of the most brilliant people in the Fountain City. Yet when I was the city’s mayor, I was amazed at how stupid I’d become since leaving the auditor’s post. I didn’t realize that  as auditor I had been providing good fodder for the bad faith machine to satiate a constant hunger for bad news about city officials. As mayor, it was my turn to face the grinding.

Own the narrative

In Kansas City and everywhere else, it’s a sure bet that the bad faith machine will keep on grinding away. But city leaders don’t have to fuel it, nor should they allow it to dictate the narrative. Instead, local officials must take proactive steps to foster a culture of good governance built on clear frameworks for decision-making, ethics, and transparency. This means establishing and consistently following guidelines that earn public trust, whether through formalized procedures for travel expenses, independent ethics oversight, or robust conflict-of-interest policies.

But just as importantly, local leaders must own their narrative. Good governance also means keeping people in the loop, so officials must actively engage with residents, explain their decisions, and communicate their vision in ways that cut through the bad faith noise. When officials cultivate an open, ongoing dialogue with their communities—whether through town halls, social media, or direct outreach—they make it harder for critics to presume or distort their intentions. Public service is messy, and the bad faith machine thrives on confusion. But a local government that is transparent, communicative, and grounded in strong ethical standards has a far better chance of keeping the machine from running the show.

He hasn’t asked me for it, but to Quinton Lucas I offer two pieces of advice. Enjoy the game. And go Chiefs!