Who Do You Really Work For? My Career in Government = a Lifetime of Community Service

When people hear the phrase “community service,” they usually picture volunteering.

They may think of serving meals, coaching children, cleaning a park, collecting donations or helping a nonprofit organization.

Those are important forms of community service. But after more than two decades working in New York City government, I have come to view my entire career as a form of community service.

I entered City government in 2004. I was 23 years old.

More than two decades later, I still come to work with a fairly simple understanding of who employs me.

Yes, I report to a supervisor. My current supervisor is a Deputy Commissioner and Chief Information Officer.

But I once made a point that summarizes how I view public service:

I don't ultimately work for you. I don't work for the Commissioner. And I don't work for the Mayor. I work for the people of the City of New York.

Look at the City's organizational structure and, appropriately, the people sit at the top.

They should.

Everyone underneath them—including the Mayor, commissioners, deputy commissioners, managers, and employees like me—ultimately serves the same constituency.

That is what public service means to me.

A Lifetime of Community Service

I don't think of community service as something that happens only after work or on weekends.

I think I have been doing it professionally for most of my adult life.

My career has largely been in the less visible machinery of government: budgeting, capital planning, procurement, contracts, and technology administration.

Nobody sees a purchase order and thinks, “There goes community service.”

But follow that purchase order far enough, and the connection becomes clearer.

Someone developed the budget.

Someone secured the funding.

Someone procured the equipment.

Someone negotiated the contract.

Someone installed the technology.

Someone paid the invoice.

And eventually a correction officer, teacher, sanitation worker, health professional, first responder or another public employee has something necessary to perform a service.

The public usually sees the last mile.

There are many miles before it.

The Organization Chart Matters

The idea that the public sits above government isn't merely symbolic to me.

It creates an important test for decision-making.

If I work for one individual, my incentive may be to make that individual happy.

If I work for an administration, my incentive may be to advance that administration's interests.

If I work for a political party, vendor, constituency group, or personal relationship, those loyalties can distort my decisions.

But if my ultimate employer is the public, the standard changes.

The question becomes:

What decision can I objectively defend as being in the best interest of the City and its taxpayers?

That doesn't mean reasonable people will always agree with me.

They won't.

Public administration involves trade-offs. There are frequently several legally permissible choices and legitimate arguments supporting more than one of them.

But my responsibility is to evaluate those choices as objectively as I can.

Not based upon favoritism.

Not based upon politics.

Not because someone knows someone.

Not because a vendor has always received the business.

Not because a particular answer is administratively convenient.

And not merely because somebody above me prefers it.

Public servants should certainly respect legitimate authority. Organizations cannot function otherwise.

But our higher obligation is to the institution and the people the institution exists to serve.

The New York Post Test

A former supervisor once gave me advice that has stayed with me. I am paraphrasing, but the principle was essentially this:

Assume every decision you make could appear in the New York Post tomorrow. Would you be comfortable explaining it to the readers?

I love that test.

Government has extensive ethics rules, procurement regulations, internal controls, and compliance requirements, as it should.

But sometimes a simple test cuts through everything else.

Suppose the email became public.

Suppose the procurement file were examined.

Suppose somebody asked why this vendor was selected.

Suppose a reporter asked why this amount was spent.

Suppose taxpayers could see the reasoning behind the decision.

Would I still be comfortable with it?

If the answer is yes, I am probably starting from a defensible place.

If the answer is no, perhaps I should reconsider what I am doing.

That doesn't mean every government decision will be popular. Responsible decisions sometimes aren't.

The test isn't whether everyone will agree.

The test is whether I can explain what I did honestly, objectively, and without embarrassment.

Community Service Sometimes Means Saying No

My current work in IT procurement and budget reinforces this almost daily.

A program needs something.

A vendor proposes something.

A contract needs funding.

A technology platform needs renewal.

Sometimes the appropriate answer is yes.

Sometimes it is no.

Sometimes it is, “Yes, but not at that price.”

Sometimes it is, “Show me another option.”

Sometimes it is, “Why are we still paying for this?”

Sometimes it is, “We need to spend more now because failing to invest will cost taxpayers substantially more later.”

I consider all of those answers forms of community service when they are reached objectively.

A public employee administering government money has a special responsibility because it isn't our money.

A taxpayer earned it.

A business generated it.

Someone paid a fee or tax.

The government collected those resources and entrusted people like me to help decide how to use them.

That deserves humility.

Service Is Not the Same as Employment

An important distinction exists between having a government job and being a public servant.

A job provides a paycheck.

I certainly understand the value of that. Government employment has provided my family and me with stability, benefits, and opportunities for which I am grateful.

But after more than two decades, a paycheck alone would be a pretty unsatisfying explanation for why I have spent most of my adult life doing this.

I believe public service represents something larger.

Call it duty.

Call it stewardship.

Call it a higher calling.

For me, it means trying each day to make decisions based upon what I believe best serves the public rather than politics, favoritism, personal relationships, or whatever other biases inevitably try to enter human decision-making.

I don't pretend that I accomplish that perfectly.

Nobody does.

Objectivity itself requires recognizing that we all have biases.

The obligation is to keep testing ourselves against them.

And I expect the people above me to serve that same constituency—not me, not themselves, but the public—with at least the same persistence.

Our titles may be different.

Our employer is the same.

Good Intentions Are Not Enough

Another reason I describe government work as community service.

Service requires results.

I am a big believer in community service, but I am an even bigger believer that service should accomplish something.

Government attracts many people who genuinely want to help.

Good intentions matter.

But good intentions and good administration are not interchangeable.

A poorly designed program, even with wonderful intentions, can still waste taxpayer money.

A procurement intended to help small businesses can become so complicated that small businesses cannot realistically participate.

A technology project intended to improve efficiency can create additional work.

A reporting requirement created in the name of accountability can eventually consume more resources than the problem it was designed to monitor.

Community service cannot simply mean caring.

At some point, we have to get things done.

What outcome are we trying to achieve?

Did we achieve it?

What did it cost?

Could we have accomplished it better?

And if something isn't working, are we willing to change it?

Government is a key component of community service because it has the scale and authority to accomplish what individuals cannot alone.

That makes effectiveness a moral responsibility as well as a managerial one.

Small Decisions Still Matter

Not every act of public service transforms a city.

Most don't.

Simplify a form.

Return someone's telephone call.

Fix an inaccurate report.

Challenge an unnecessary expense.

Help another unit solve a problem even though the organizational chart says it technically belongs somewhere else.

Get a procurement completed before an existing service expires.

Catch the invoice error.

Ask why something costs what it costs.

Government is an enormous collection of small decisions.

And residents ultimately experience the cumulative result.

That is why I don't believe someone needs a glamorous title or a public-facing position to perform community service.

An analyst can serve.

An accountant can serve.

A procurement professional can serve.

A custodian can serve.

A commissioner can serve.

The title determines our responsibilities.

It doesn't determine how important it is to serve well.

Remember Who Is at the Top

After more than two decades in government, it is easy to become consumed by the machinery.

Budget codes.

Contract numbers.

Approvals.

Spreadsheets.

Meetings.

Policies.

Deadlines.

And an extraordinary number of emails.

Every so often, I think it is useful to mentally redraw the organization chart.

At the bottom are all the boxes representing employees like me.

Above us are supervisors.

Then executives.

Then commissioners.

Eventually, the Mayor.

And above the Mayor?

The people.

That is where they belong.

I don't serve one politician.

I don't serve one commissioner.

I don't serve one supervisor.

I don't serve one vendor, interest group or political philosophy.

I serve a city of millions of people, most of whom I will never meet.

So do the people above me.

That is why I view my career as a lifetime of community service.

And it gives me a remarkably simple standard to carry into work every day:

Do the work. Make the best decision you can. Be able to explain it publicly. And never forget who you actually work for.