Finding the Magic in the Numbers

If you work in government communications long enough, you start to hear a familiar refrain:

 

 “We’ve got the data.”

 

And usually, that’s true. We have the spreadsheets. The dashboards. The reports. The PDFs no one asked for but everyone feels obligated to publish.

 

What we often don’t have is connection.

 

That’s what I wanted to explore during Public Sector Storytelling: From Data to Impact—not because storytelling is trendy, but because numbers alone rarely move people. Stories do. And in public service, movement matters: toward understanding, toward trust, toward better decisions.

 

Whether you joined the session live or are catching up now, I hope these reflections resonate with your own work—and maybe give you a few practical ideas to take back to your team.

Data Isn’t Dry—We Just Serve It That Way

One of the biggest misconceptions about public sector data is that it’s boring. I don’t buy that.

Data represents people—their behavior, their fears, their decisions, their risks. The problem isn’t the data. It’s how we present it.

 

I like to think of data as ingredients. Flour, eggs, salt. Necessary—but not exactly appetizing on their own. The story is the finished meal. Warm. Inviting. Digestible.

 

Our job as communicators isn’t to change the ingredients. It’s to prepare them in a way that people can actually consume and remember.

 

A Hard Truth: The Hero Is Never Us

This is the part that can sting a little.

 

When we’re telling stories about our work, it’s tempting to center the agency, the program, or the elected official. But here’s the truth I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way:

 

The hero is never us. 

 

The hero is the person on the other side of the screen:

• The resident trying to understand their risk after a storm
• The policymaker weighing tradeoffs
• The business owner looking for stability and predictability

If we aren’t centering them—their questions, their concerns, their context—then we’re not really communicating. We’re just talking to ourselves.

 

That also means accepting that one story doesn’t work for everyone. Different audiences need different framing, even when the underlying data is the same. That’s not dilution. That’s respect.

Simplicity Is Not the Enemy of Accuracy

One of the biggest fears I hear from teams is that simplifying data somehow makes it less truthful.

 

In my experience, the opposite is usually true.

 

Complexity is the enemy of action. When visuals are cluttered, when every data point fights for attention, people shut down. And when they shut down, trust erodes.

 

This is where one of my favorite tools comes in: the delete key.

 

Delete extra colors.
Delete decorative elements.
Delete anything that distracts from the core insight.

 

When we simplify, we’re not hiding the truth—we’re amplifying it. And if the public can’t trust what they’re seeing, they won’t trust the institution behind it.

 

Stories Give Data Direction

Data without structure is just information. Stories give it purpose.

 

A simple framework I return to again and again is a three-act structure:

1. Context – What has happened
2. Conflict – What could happen if trends continue
3. Resolution – What we can do next

 

This is where data stops being purely descriptive and starts becoming useful.

 

In Missouri, we’ve seen this firsthand in our earthquake and flood research (yes, earthquakes are a thing in Missouri!). When we looked closely at the data, we found small but powerful insights—like widespread misconceptions about insurance coverage and declining uptake as costs increased.

 

Those “nuggets” helped us move from reporting risk to helping people manage it. That’s the difference between information and impact.

Learning From Agencies Doing This Well

One of the most energizing parts of the session was celebrating the Excellence in Community Engagement Award winners. These teams are proof that thoughtful storytelling and inclusive engagement aren’t theoretical—they’re happening right now, often under intense pressure.

 

From disaster recovery in Hillsborough County, to post-storm trust-building in Buncombe County and Asheville, to data-driven transit engagement in San Antonio, these efforts all shared something in common:

 

They put people first—and built systems that reflected that choice.

 

Innovation didn’t always come from having more resources. Often, it came from clarity, creativity, and a willingness to rethink old habits.

Why This Work Matters

Turning massive datasets into stories people actually understand can feel overwhelming. I get it. We’re all juggling timelines, approvals, and competing priorities.

 

But this is the work we’re called to do.

 

When we bring empathy, imagination, and clarity to our data, we don’t just inform—we serve. We help people see themselves in the decisions being made. And that’s where trust begins.

 

If this session sparked something for you, I hope you’ll carry it forward into your own projects. The magic isn’t in the numbers. It’s in what we choose to do with them.

 

Missed the session?  Catch up by requesting the recording below: