Karaoke, Social Change, and the Mechanics of Being Heard
Because shouting louder isn’t a strategy. And you are not Beyoncé.
Maybe it’s the unofficial start of summer. Maybe it’s the lingering echo of someone absolutely butchering “Livin’ on a Prayer’” at a backyard party. Or maybe I’m just thinking about what it takes to be heard in public right now — and how often we confuse volume with impact.
It also might just be that I love karaoke.
I used to front a cover band with some other lobbyists called Second Reading (because nothing says “party” like procedural motion humor), and my organization, Regional Plan Association, has an alarmingly enthusiastic karaoke culture. So when I say karaoke has something to teach us about systems and strategy — trust me. I’ve spent an unusual amount of time thinking about both, and the parallels are real.
Because here’s the thing about karaoke: it’s not really about being a great singer. It’s about knowing how the system works. Breath, timing, proximity to the mic, song choice, backing track. It’s a performance built on invisible mechanics. And the same is true for advocacy… if you’re doing it right. So let’s take a look under the hood and see what one can teach us about the other.
It Feels Good to Make Noise
Whether you’re screaming at a protest or belting out Bon Jovi after two gin & tonics, noise feels powerful. It’s primal, cathartic, and personal.
That hit of being heard? That’s real. But don’t confuse it with effectiveness.
Singing Badly, Repeatedly, Won’t Make You Better
There are two classic traps for people holding a mic or a megaphone:
Belting it out with No Plan — All volume, no control. Just shouting into the mic or into the void, hoping passion will carry the moment. In advocacy, I call it the shaking-your-fist-at-the-empty-sky approach.
The Ritual Performance — Run the same playbook every time: same moves, same rhythms, same chorus. It feels familiar. It feels active. But nothing actually shifts. In karaoke it’s the person who always picks the same song, whether or not it works. In advocacy, I think of this one as the Tai Chi approach.
I flag these not because they are inherently bad, but because karaoke takes more than confidence and change takes more than choreography. In both cases, real progress requires understanding how things work beneath the surface. How your sound resonates. How your breath shapes the note. How the agency awards grants. How a budget is developed.
You can’t just show up and expect it to land. The Power Belter relies on volume. The Ritual Performer relies on routine. But without understanding the system — how the sound travels, how the change moves — neither gets the result they’re hoping for. What feels like strategy might just be muscle memory and what sounds like passion might not carry. If you want to make an impact, you have to know how the system carries sound.
It’s Not That You Can’t, It’s That You Don’t Know How Yet
Most struggles in singing (and strategy) aren’t always about capability. they come from not knowing how the mechanics actually work.
What looks like failure is often just a mismatch between effort and insight. You can’t adjust what you don’t understand, or fix an outcome without knowing what’s producing it. Understanding the system is step one; changing the outcome means changing how that system works — and doing it with intention.
Sometimes it’s not that you can’t hit the note, it’s that you don’t know where the sound is supposed to come from.
So don’t start with the fix. Start with these three questions before heading to the mic or the dais:
What are the component parts that control the output?
How do they currently work together?
How could they work differently to produce the result you want?
Want better outcomes? Stop assuming your idea is The Fix™ and start understanding how the system actually operates. Good policy doesn’t come from thinking really hard by yourself. Investigate what component parts/entities need to move and in what order to achieve your desired outcome. Map the mechanics, but also talk to the implementers. Trace where things really get stuck, not where you assume they do.
Singing and social change both require knowing how the system works in order to improve the outcome, whether it’s a high note or a housing plan.
Want to sharpen your skills? There’s a pencil-in-mouth trick (and other weirdly useful nonsense) waiting at the end.
Don’t Force the Note, Find the Fit
Even when the intent is right, the execution can fall apart — not because the idea is bad, but because it doesn’t match the structure it’s meant to move.
That’s why a lot of policy “solutions” look like:
“Let’s create an Equity Oversight Board!”
“Let’s add an Office of Performance Innovation!”
“Let’s mandate a Czar of Accountability!”
To be clear, these aren’t inherently bad ideas, they’re just floating above the system instead of engaging with it. Add-ons. Overlays. Workarounds. They signal change without actually shifting the mechanics that produce the outcome.
If you want real impact, you have to match your strategy to the structure.
Start with how the system actually works now. Who moves what? Where does it bottleneck? Who has power and what constrains them? Talk to the people doing the work. Ask them what’s broken. Ask what they wish they could do — and why they can’t.
Want to fix school funding inequity? Don’t just declare bold values or propose a new oversight mechanism. Start with how the formula actually allocates dollars. What levers exist? Who has the authority to move them? Which constraints are legal, political, or cultural? A good solution doesn’t necessarily fight the structure — it changes how it moves.
Same goes for karaoke. Your favorite song isn’t always the one your voice is built to carry. So where does your voice sit, and what kind of sound does it naturally produce? Start by picking something that fits your physical context, then think about the crowd —mistakes are less obvious when your audience is swept up in the moment. A great karaoke song is often either a beltable singalong, a forgotten gem that makes everyone go “ohhh this song!”, or, if all else fails, lean into a total trainwreck with full commitment. (think Biz Markie… you know the one.)
You Don’t Have to Be Beyoncé
You just have to understand the assignment.
Good karaoke isn’t about being flawless. It’s about knowing your instrument, choosing the right song, and owning the hell out of it. If you know how your voice works and don’t try to be a hero, you can lock in a 2–3 song arsenal that carries you through any karaoke night with style.
Same goes for advocacy. The most effective campaigns aren’t always the biggest. The best messages aren’t always the boldest. The question isn’t, “Is this the most ambitious idea I can think of?” It’s “Does this move the right lever in the environment I’m in?”
Because strategy — in karaoke or policy — is always situational. Maybe you shine singing Stevie Nicks. Maybe it’s Sir Mix-A-Lot. Maybe this is the time to push new legislation, or maybe it’s time to shift implementation behind the scenes. Some fights need a spotlight. Others need a door that closes.
You don’t need to be flawless. You need to be effective.
What to Do Before You Grab the Mic (or the Governor’s Ear)
This is your practical section — tools to help you recognize what’s working, what’s not, and how to shift with intent.
Because you can use the same vocal system for opera or punk — same breath, same anatomy— and get compeltely different results. One is built to soar over an orchestra without a mic. The other is designed to rupture your middle-class complacency. Same body, different intent. Same mechanics, different outcome.
So if you want to sing — or advocate — with control, purpose, and power, here are a few exercises that can help you build better resonance:
Warm up before you go live: Start with a hum. It’s low-effort, low-stakes, and gets your vocal cords ready without any strain. It also helps you find your breath, reduce tension, and settle into your sound before the real performance starts. Advocacy version: Campaigns need warm-ups too. Early planning gives you time to align the team, test your approach, and adjust before the stakes are high. That way, when the tempo changes (and it will) you’re ready.
Stick a pencil in your mouth: Seriously. Hold it horizontally between your teeth so it sticks out both sides of your mouth and rests lightly on your tongue. Then try vocalizing “above” and “below” it. You’ll feel the sound placement shift and learn how to redirect power without forcing it, just by changing the structure. Advocacy version: If you’re burning out or hitting resistance, don’t just push harder — shift your entry point. Sometimes it’s not about force, it’s about structure. Need help figuring out where to shift your entry point? These worksheets can help you see where your actual power is — or isn’t. [Link]
Know the track before you take the mic: It’s easy to think you know how a song goes — until you’re on stage and suddenly realize you don’t. Listen to the original. Where does it build? Where does it drop? How long is the bridge? If you’re just hoping muscle memory kicks in by the second verse, rethink your plan. Advocacy version: You might think you know how a process works — until you’re mid-campaign and realize you missed the one person who actually controls the outcome. Before you pitch, talk to the people inside the system. Ask how it really moves. Because finding out on the floor is the policy equivalent of blanking on the second verse.
Find the placement: Try overdoing a voice like Cher or Bob Dylan — not for the laughs, but to feel where the sound is coming from. Cher? Throat constriction. Dylan? Nasal resonance. Exaggerate, notice the sensation, then adjust into something that works.
It’s not about talent— it’s about tuning. Once you know where a sound lives, you can modulate it and start using it on purpose. Advocacy version: Try pushing at different points. The top of the agency. The ground-level implementation. The weird corner where no one’s looking. You’re not just cycling through tactics, you’re mapping how the system reacts so you can choose your pressure point with intention.Release tension: Gently rub your neck and shoulders before you sing. A little physical tension can become audible quickly — and mental tension shows up too. Loosening up helps your voice come out cleaner and steadier. Advocacy version: Don’t forget the human component. Stress, burnout, or misalignment in your team can seep into your tone, your timing, and how your message lands. Take time to reset,celebrate the win, regroup after the loss. The system isn’t the only thing that needs maintenance.
So there you have it. If you’ve stuck with me this far, my hat’s off to you and to your newly refreshed singing and campaigning skills (and if you manage to use both at once, you’ve reached the final boss level of public engagement). And since you made it all the way, here’s a bonus: a karaoke songbook of infrastructure-themed parodies I made for our RPA holiday party. You’re welcome. [Link]