A roadmap: what to build, how to build it, and how to put it where people can check it
Most values statements list leanings. A leaning forbids nothing, so a wall of them guides nothing, and readers have learned to skip the section. This is a roadmap for building something else: a framework that says what your movement will not do, where those commitments come from, what makes them legitimate rather than merely asserted, what happens when two of them collide, and what a reader can check for themselves.
It has two halves. The structure — what the framework contains and how it lays out on a page. The process — how you build it, starting from the policies you already hold rather than from a blank whiteboard.
It assumes you are serious about evidence-led policy. That assumption makes the work more necessary, not less, and I will start there because it is the objection most likely to stop you reading.
The philosophical groundwork behind this sits in a separate series, Trust, Values & Intent. This roadmap does not repeat it. It builds on it.
There is a hope in circulation, and I have sympathy with it, that a movement committed to following the evidence has escaped the need for a philosophy. Get the analysis right, put the hard questions to a citizens’ assembly chosen by lot, and the ideological argument starts to look like something the previous generation had to have.
I do not think that survives contact with a real decision. Facts tell you what is the case and what follows from a course of action. They are silent on what you should want. You can know everything there is to know about a river and it will still not tell you whether to dam it, because that turns on what you care about, and caring is not a fact you can look up.
So what a superb analysis actually does is strip out every part of a decision that was a knowledge problem, and leave standing, alone and floodlit, the one part that never was. Evidence does not colonise the values question. It isolates it. Once you have removed the disagreements that were really disagreements about facts, everything remaining is a question about what to prefer when two good things cannot both be had — and that is exactly where evidence has nothing to say.
Sortition is a genuine answer to how deliberation gets corrupted by interest, but it settles who is in the room, not what they should weigh once they are sitting there. Participatory budgeting is itself the conclusion of an argument about who has standing to decide how shared money is spent, so it cannot stand in for the argument that produced it. Methods make the choice visible and force it to be made. They cannot make it for you.
The failure mode is not dramatic. Nobody storms the citadel. It is that deciding is hard, the analysis is good, and it becomes easier and easier to let the best-argued answer settle a question that was never an argument about facts. The gate is left open and everyone goes home.
So: a coherent philosophical foundation is not what a movement builds instead of evidence-led policy. It is what evidence-led policy leaves you holding.
And this is where I would put the opportunity rather than the warning, because the new methods are not a threat to a foundation. They are the first serious chance in a long time to exercise one.
A citizens’ assembly is a room built for precisely the kind of decision that has no factual answer. Chosen by lot, it has no career riding on the outcome. Given time and evidence and each other, its members can hold a genuine collision open long enough to decide it rather than duck it. That is a capability representative politics has been largely unable to offer, because a chamber whose members face re-election cannot easily say out loud that a choice cost something.
Assemblies are usually run to produce a recommendation — a single output, agreed, tidy — which quietly reintroduces the averaging problem at the last step and throws away the most valuable thing the room produced. What a movement with a named standard can do instead is use the assembly to manage the collision: hold both goods in view, decide, record what was set aside, and carry the minority position out intact and attributed. Same room, same people, entirely different artefact at the end of it.
That is why the foundation and the method need each other. Without the standard, an assembly can prove that something happened and never that it was fair. Without the assembly, a standard is a document with no room to be exercised in.
There is a further thing here that gets skated over, and it matters more than the values point because it hides better.
“Follow the evidence” assumes the evidence speaks with one voice. On the questions a movement actually has to decide, it frequently does not. Competent scientists disagree. Models built by serious people diverge, and diverge more the further out they run. Disciplines look at the same problem and see different problems — an epidemiologist, an economist and a child psychologist assessing the same school closure are not producing rival answers to one question, they are answering three different questions and only one of them was asked.
So the plural framework is not something you apply to your values and then switch off when the experts arrive. It is the same discipline, applied twice. Averaging competing expert reasoning into a single consensus figure does exactly what averaging values does: it produces a number nobody in the room would defend, and it conceals a choice inside something that looks like a finding. “The science says” can be a fair summary of settled work. It can also be the most effective way yet devised to make a decision without admitting one was made.
Two things follow for a movement that means this seriously.
Before building anything, run a diagnostic on what you have. The word value quietly does three different jobs, and the muddle between them is what lets a values statement drift into decoration.
The nouns on nearly every published values statement are the first kind. And a leaning forbids nothing. You can lean towards fairness and still do more or less anything.
Which gives you the test to run on every candidate value, before it goes anywhere near a page:
Name one decision this value would have forbidden.
A real value is a thing you can bump into. It rules something out. It costs you something you would otherwise have taken. If there is no situation in which it says no, it was never a value; it was a mood, and putting it on a wall does not change that.
Run this on your own list first, and expect one or two to fail. That is the test working. A test you only point at other people is a weapon; pointed at yourself it becomes an instrument, and the ones that fail are more useful to you than the ones that pass, because they tell you where you have been describing an aspiration and calling it a commitment.
Two things are easy to confuse and the whole argument turns on keeping them apart.
Capacity is the ability to decide well — to analyse, model, forecast, reason. Legitimacy is the rightful standing to be the one who decides. These come apart completely. Something can run away with capacity and gain no legitimacy at all, because legitimacy is not a skill you can be out-performed at. It is a standing, and it sits with people, with tikanga, and with the room that has to live with the result.
That matters for a values framework because it tells you what your framework is for. It is not a demonstration that your movement reasons well. It is the standard against which your decisions can be judged, held by the people who will live with them.
And here is the part that decides how you write the thing:
A decision earns the word legitimate when it honoured what the group said mattered — which means the group has to have said it, out loud, written down, and settled before the deciding began.
Three consequences follow, and they are the load-bearing rules of the whole exercise.
This is worth being clear about, because it means the exercise is not conservatism and should not be written in its vocabulary. Keeping faith with the past is one good among several, and in a given decision it can lose to doing the new thing. An inherited value your movement has never named has no standing to judge anything. A new one you name and seal has full standing.
This is the section most statements do not have, and its absence is the clearest sign that a document was written to be admired rather than used.
Your values will collide. Not occasionally and not because you chose them badly — because the world is like that. Liberty and equality both matter and they pull against each other. Mercy and justice both matter. Feeding a district and leaving the river alone both matter. There is no master value sitting above the others that ranks them once and for all, and no amount of better reasoning dissolves the clash, because the clash was never a mistake in the reasoning.
The temptation at this point is to average. Take two goods that genuinely collide, split the difference, and publish a position that nobody in the room actually holds. It reads as maturity. It is the opposite: it is a movement embarrassed by its own tensions, ironing them flat and calling the result a consensus.
What you publish should be a truthful map of what you hold and exactly where it strains, kept whole.
Not a clean agreed list. A document that smooths the strain into a tidy slogan is lying on your behalf, and a decision measured against a lie only looks legitimate.
Managing a collision, rather than averaging it, means five things in practice.
This is the part that will feel strange, because the instinct is to treat expert input as the settled ground on which the values argument then happens. Where the experts agree, it is. Where they do not, the same five rules apply without modification: name the disagreement in the document, decide the actual case rather than adopting a standing rule about which discipline wins, record which analysis you did not follow and why, carry the dissenting expert view up attributed and intact, and never collapse a genuine spread into a point estimate because a single number is easier to put in a press release.
A movement that manages evidential conflict the way it manages value conflict is doing something almost nobody currently does, and it is the more defensible position by a distance — because when the minority expert turns out to have been right, and sometimes they will be, the record shows you heard them.
Now the artefact. What follows is the shape we built and run, with the reason for each part attached, because a movement that copies the shape without the reasons will drop whichever parts are inconvenient — and the inconvenient parts are the ones doing the work.
Two kinds of claim, kept apart. Upstream sit the values: where they come from, and what your movement takes them to mean. Downstream sit the commitments: the specific things you will and will not do. Readers can tell when the two have been merged, even if they could not say what tipped them off, and merging them is how a document ends up unfalsifiable at the top and trivial at the bottom.
A chain, not a list. Values presented as a list invite the reader to shop among them, agreeing with three and passing over the rest. Presented as a chain, where each follows from the one before, they invite the reader to follow the reasoning and identify the exact point at which they get off.
A list says what you are like. A chain says what follows, and where somebody might reasonably disagree. The second is more exposed and considerably more persuasive for that reason. Being arguable is not a weakness here; it is close to the only thing distinguishing a position from a mood.
Four moves per value, in the same order every time.
Grade the last move, and show the grade. Every commitment gets marked with what currently backs it: enforced by a named mechanism, partly enforced with the gap described, or nothing yet. Publish the grade beside the commitment rather than burying it.
And attach an intention to every gap. This is not optional and it is where good intentions do damage.
The research on one-sided against two-sided messages is consistent: a message that names the counter-argument and answers it is more persuasive than a one-sided one, while a message that names the counter-argument and leaves it hanging performs worse than not having raised it. So a commitment marked as unbacked, left sitting there, works against you. Marked alongside what you intend to do about it, it does not. The sheet you want is not a list of confessions; it is a list of commitments, each showing what makes it true, and where nothing does, what will.
A cost line on each value. What holding this actually costs your movement. Not a caveat — a cost. If you cannot name one, you are probably looking at a leaning.
Presentation: the argument stays visible, the depth opens inside it. Every step of the chain is on the page at once and reads top to bottom as reasoning. The detail — where the value comes from, what you take it to mean, what backs the commitment, what it costs — opens inside each step for a reader who wants it. What you must not do is collapse the steps themselves behind headings, because a wall of closed headings reads as a list of questions and the argument disappears. And every depth must be true on its own: a reader who opens nothing should leave with something accurate they can repeat, and a reader who opens everything should find it deepened rather than corrected.
In our case several did not survive the check. Three claims in our own published constitution turned out to assert enforcement the code contradicted, and had to be corrected. A promise about members being able to take their records out held for one half and not the other, and now says so. That was the most useful part of the whole exercise and the part I would least want a movement to skip, because the alternative is discovering it in public.
More than the usual exercise and in a direction most people are not expecting.
It asks you to name a decision each value would have forbidden, and to drop the ones that cannot manage it. It asks you to say where your values came from precisely enough that somebody can check. It asks you to write down where your own values collide, and what you do then. It asks you to say what each commitment costs you rather than only what it entitles you to. And it asks you to publish the commitments nothing yet backs, alongside what you intend to do about each.
All of that is harder than writing that you believe in fairness, and I think the difficulty is the point. A document of this kind is credible in roughly the proportion that it contains things which would have been easier to leave out.
The philosophical groundwork — what a value is, why trust in a reasoner is not the same as checking its work, and where legitimacy comes from — is set out in the Trust, Values and Intent series, which this roadmap assumes rather than repeats.
Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue, on a living tradition as “an historically extended, socially embodied argument”, and on traditions embodying continuities of conflict — which is his answer to anyone who reads inheritance as conservatism.
Isaiah Berlin, “Two Concepts of Liberty” and “The Pursuit of the Ideal”, including his insistence that pluralism is not relativism and that values sit within a human horizon. On the regret that survives a decision correctly made: Bernard Williams, “Ethical Consistency”. On comparing frameworks without an external standard: Charles Taylor, “Explanation and Practical Reason”.
Luigi Guiso, Paola Sapienza and Luigi Zingales, “The value of corporate culture”, Journal of Financial Economics — advertised values correlate with nothing measurable, while values as perceived by the people inside the organisation correlate with a great deal.
Philip Converse, “The Nature of Belief Systems in Mass Publics”, on political positions travelling in packages assembled by very few people; and Seymour Martin Lipset and Stein Rokkan on party systems reflecting cleavage structures decades older than the voters choosing between them.
Mike Allen’s meta-analysis of one-sided and two-sided messages, Western Journal of Speech Communication.
James Fishkin, who describes his own method as sitting inside an unresolved conflict between political equality and deliberation rather than above one; and the finding, with Christian List, Robert Luskin and Iain McLean, that deliberation works by bringing preferences closer to single-peakedness rather than by producing agreement. On the difficulty with empowering a randomly chosen body to decide — that it asks everybody else to defer without being able to check — Cristina Lafont.
On the objection to any account that warrants values by where they come from, and on the cost that survives a decision correctly made: Martha Nussbaum’s review of MacIntyre, and Bernard Williams.