Data Isn’t Destiny: What Red-State Lawmakers Really Hear When You Lead with Statistics

From the Other Side of the Table Series • Part 4

By Shannon Jones

As a former Republican legislator, I sat through hundreds of policy pitches. And I can tell you this: data alone never closed the deal.

That might surprise some advocates. After all, the research is solid, the need is real, and the numbers are often staggering. But in conservative policymaking circles, data doesn’t drive decisions—values do.

That’s not to say data doesn’t matter. It does. In fact, as a policymaker, I relied on data every day to understand the scope of problems and weigh the potential impact of proposed solutions. But data alone isn’t persuasive—it’s the values the data speaks to that make the case compelling.

I’ve seen it countless times. Advocates walk in armed with statistics—poverty rates, health disparities, education gaps. The charts are compelling. The urgency is obvious. But the message doesn’t land. Not because the lawmaker doesn’t care, but because the numbers alone don’t reflect the values and lived experience that shape decision-making in red-state districts.

Here’s the disconnect:

When you lead with data, you’re often speaking your language, not theirs. Many conservative lawmakers view national statistics with skepticism. They assume the data has been cherry-picked to make a point—or worse, politicized. Even local data can fall flat if it doesn’t align with what they’re hearing from school superintendents, pastors, or small business owners back home.

That doesn’t mean data has no place. It means it can’t be the opening act. Persuasion in policymaking isn’t just about what’s true—it’s about what resonates.

To connect with a conservative policymaker, start with what they care about: families, freedom, faith, fiscal responsibility. Use your data to support those values—not to replace them.

Say you're advocating for stronger substance use recovery services. Don’t begin with overdose rates. Start with the employer who can’t find workers because too many applicants are struggling with addiction. Or the sheriff who keeps seeing the same people cycle through the justice system. Then show how recovery services reduce recidivism, improve workforce participation, and save taxpayer dollars.

Or take school absenteeism. Rather than opening with a dashboard of numbers, begin with the frustrations of local business owners who struggle to hire young workers who can show up consistently. Then explain how chronic absenteeism in school predicts workforce readiness—and how targeted interventions can turn things around.

When I was in office, the data that moved me most was the kind that confirmed what I already prioritized: keeping families together, helping parents work, and using tax dollars wisely. It wasn’t about ignoring the data—it was about making sure every investment could be justified to the people I represented: voters who expected accountability, impact, and a clear connection to their everyday lives.

That’s something advocates often overlook. Policymakers in red states aren’t just evaluating your proposal—they’re imagining how they’ll defend it in a town hall or primary debate. If you want them to support your idea, give them a way to explain it that aligns with the values and language of their own community.

Advocacy isn’t just about being right. It’s about being effective. And effectiveness doesn’t start with spreadsheets.

It starts with trust, shared priorities, and a message that could’ve been written by someone in the policymaker’s own district. Data can be a powerful tool. But it’s just that—a tool. Use it wisely, and it can sharpen your argument. Use it poorly, and it dulls your impact.

Because in the end, data may inform—but it rarely decides. People do.