Why Are You Running?
The Question Every Candidate Thinks They’ve Answered (But Usually Haven’t
Every campaign begins with a moment. Sometimes it’s a headline that makes your blood pressure spike. Sometimes it’s a school board meeting where you look around and think, “Oh good, democracy is being run by the three loudest people with the worst ideas.” Sometimes it’s simply that quiet tug in your gut that says, If I don’t step up now, who will?
But somewhere between that spark and the day you file, the real heart of the campaign often gets buried under paperwork, yard signs, and the sudden realization that you have to raise money from your aunt who still thinks you’re 17.
So let’s hit pause for a moment and ask the question that sits at the center of every successful candidacy:
Why are you running?
It sounds simple. It isn’t. And most candidates never actually answer it.
The Core Message: The One Thing That Guides Everything Else
A campaign without a clear why is like a GPS with no destination. You can drive fast, you can look determined, you can even feel confident, but you’re not going anywhere voters can follow.
Your why is the argument you’re making about the future. It’s the thing that connects your story to their lives. And it’s the filter through which every message, every speech, every debate answer must pass.
A strong why does not begin with the office you want. It begins with the problem you can’t stomach anymore.
Candidates who want to be something get blown over by the first gust of political wind. Candidates who want to do something , whose mission is clear and specific, become magnetic.
And when the attacks come (and they will), your why becomes your shield. Instead of playing on your opponent’s turf, you pivot straight back to your core message:
“I’m running to __________, so that ______________. ”
Example: “I am running to raise the minimum wage, so that people in my district can afford to live here and have their American dream.”
That’s how you stay in control of the race. Not by being the loudest, but by being the most grounded.
Campaigns Are Stories — But Not All at Once
We tend to think a campaign is one giant speech stretched across nine months.
But in reality, it’s a story told in chapters.
You don’t dump your entire biography onto voters on Day One.
You don’t show all your plans at once.
You don’t fire every contrast shot in the first month.
You build a narrative over time.
A good campaign knows:
What part of the story to tell first (your why).
What comes next (your vision).
When to introduce contrast (when voters know you well enough to see the difference).
How to roll out details with intention instead of flinging every fact you know into the void.
This is why message planning matters. It’s why campaigns build calendars for announcements, endorsements, digital pushes, and community conversations.
And yes, it’s why you need to understand your opponent, not to obsess over them, but to see the battlefield clearly. You’re not just telling voters who you are. You’re defining the choice.
Authenticity: The Thing You Can’t Fake (Even If You Try)
Modern campaigns operate on one basic truth:
Everything will come out.
The internet has the memory of an elephant and the cattiness of a high school group chat and the attention span of a squirrel. If there’s a questionable picture or an awkward tweet from 2011, someone has already screenshotted it.
This is why self-research isn’t optional.
You should know your own vulnerabilities before your opponent’s intern finds them at 2 a.m. while eating Taco Bell. It’s time to scrub your social media.
Sometimes, the smartest move is releasing the awkward stuff yourself — on your timeline, in your words, so it becomes part of your story rather than their attack.
But here’s the good news: voters aren’t looking for perfection. They’re looking for truth. They’re looking for a human being with a spine. They’re looking for someone who can say:
“I’ve lived, I’ve learned, I’ve grown and here’s why I’m stepping up now.”
A campaign is, in many ways, an MRI for the soul. Run long enough, and your character shows. And that is exactly why authenticity is your greatest armor.
So What Makes a Real Why Statement?
A real Why Statement is not a slogan.
It’s not a bullet point.
It’s not a generic “I care about the community” sentence you’d see on a mug.
A real Why Statement is alive.
It’s anchored.
It’s specific enough that voters recognize your story in it.
It answers questions like:
What moment made you say “enough”?
What problem keeps you up at night?
Who gets hurt if nothing changes?
Who benefits if you win?
What future are you fighting for?
If your why doesn’t make you feel something, it won’t make voters feel anything either.
And here’s the test: If you took your name out of your Why Statement, could it belong to any candidate in America? If the answer is yes, your why isn’t done yet.
The Payoff: Clarity, Connection, and Control
When your why is clear, everything else falls into place:
Your stump speech writes itself.
Your social media gets sharper.
Your fundraising gets easier.
Your volunteers know what they’re fighting for.
Your voters know exactly why you deserve their trust.
And every time your opponent comes after you, you pivot back to your message with confidence instead of panic.
Your why is not just a sentence. It’s the foundation of your campaign, the through-line of your story, and the reason people will choose you over someone else.
Without it, you’re just another person asking for a vote. With it, you become a leader with purpose.
If you’re crafting your Why Statement and want help shaping it into something powerful, send me what you have. We can sharpen it, tighten it, and turn it into the message that carries your campaign all the way to Election Day.
Because the truth is simple: Candidates don’t win because they talk the most. They win because they know exactly why they’re in the fight, and they never let voters forget it.
So why are you running for office?
Yours in resistance,
Nancy Thompson