Over recent years, governance worldwide has begun to recognise a quiet yet significant truth: policies, no matter how well-crafted, cannot succeed in a vacuum of meaning. In complex, fragmented societies, particularly those facing economic pressures, democratic fatigue, or internal conflict, people do not judge governments solely on their actions. They also respond to how those actions are explained, communicated, and woven into the broader story of national life. Yet, in many bureaucratic cultures, communication remains an afterthought. It is seen as an add-on to policymaking rather than an integral part of the process. The result is an ongoing disconnect between state intentions and citizen perceptions, often mistaken for apathy, resistance, or misinformation, when in reality, the state has failed to communicate in ways that truly resonate.
The question, then, is not whether governments should communicate. It is whether they are willing to rethink who performs that work, and how. This requires a wider reimagining of the civil service, not just regarding efficiency or digital skills, but its fundamental identity. The modern civil servant cannot simply be an implementer of directives or a guardian of rules. They must also become translators: of complexity into clarity, of policy into narrative, of the state into something understandable and credible to its people.
In many bureaucratic cultures, communication remains an afterthought.
This is not a call for branding, nor a suggestion that governance be reduced to performance. It is an argument about the balance between democratic legitimacy and administrative effectiveness. When governments fail to communicate, they lose control over the narrative space. Others,be they extremist actors, politicised media, or external influencers, rush to fill the vacuum. What begins as a failure of messaging can quickly escalate into a crisis of trust. In such environments, even the sincerest reform effort becomes vulnerable to distortion, and even the most generous welfare initiative is met with suspicion.
One reason this problem persists is that communication in many state systems is often seen as a reactive or decorative role. Media units are brought in to issue statements or organise coverage after policies are already decided. However, communication should be integrated from the start: shaping how policies are presented, how trade-offs are explained, and how different stakeholders are involved. Without this, governments often end up explaining too late, responding to criticism rather than preventing it, and seeming opaque even when their intentions are clear.
This is especially crucial in areas of governance that involve behavioural change such as public health, environmental regulation, education reform, or taxation, to name a few. In these fields, the success of a policy depends not only on its technical soundness but also on how it resonates with people, how it interacts with local beliefs and customs, and whether it is communicated in a way that fosters understanding rather than resistance. This dynamic is particularly evident in Pakistan, where the gap between policy and perception is often widened not by intention but due to a lack of ongoing narrative engagement. From development plans to reform agendas, initiatives usually struggle at the point of public communication, either because they are introduced without proper context, or because official language fails to translate into the everyday language of people’s concerns. Whether it’s explaining the logic of economic reforms, the reasoning behind infrastructure projects, or the urgency of digital initiatives, the challenge lies not only in implementation but also in effective communication.
Taking this seriously would necessitate a systemic change. Civil servants, particularly those in policy-related roles, should be trained not only in drafting summaries and press notes but also in understanding the science of perception. This encompasses the role of metaphors and symbols in shaping understanding, behavioural economics insights in crafting public messages, and the influence of visuals in making policy more accessible. It also involves recognising the ethical dimensions of communication: how to inform without manipulating, how to persuade without coercing, and how to maintain institutional credibility over time.
A growing body of research, along with lived institutional experience, demonstrates that the quality of a government’s communication has measurable effects on everything from compliance rates to crisis response. Yet few public institutions treat communication as a specialised field in its own right. It remains either confined to public relations or outsourced to external firms, often with little integration into policy itself. This creates a gap, not just in how citizens understand what their government does, but in how governments understand what their citizens need to hear and how they need to hear it.
None of this suggests that every bureaucrat must become a storyteller in the literary sense. But it does imply that the state must start thinking like one: focusing on narrative coherence, emotional truth, and the sequencing of information over time. This is what a modern administrative system should aim for not because it is fashionable, but because it is practically necessary. A state that cannot communicate its vision cannot expect that vision to be shared, or even recognised, by the people it is meant to serve.
The concept of the “storyteller state” is not about spin. It is about strategy. It involves recognising that in today’s world, where attention is limited and distrust is high, governance must earn its legitimacy anew each day. That legitimacy is no longer built solely through infrastructure or legislation; it is also formed through conversation, explanation, and empathy. These are not soft add-ons. They are now central to the core mechanics of policy success.
Reforming the civil service to mirror this reality will not be straightforward. It will necessitate changes in training, recruitment, and organisational culture. It will require valuing communication not just as a fallback skill, but as a form of public intelligence. Additionally, it will demand greater humility from institutions and an acknowledgement that telling the story of the state is not a one-way process, but a dialogue that involves listening, adaptation, and trust. In a world where governments face pressure to perform, deliver, and reform, the ability to tell the story of what they are doing and why might be one of the most overlooked tools of transformation. It is time we bring it to the centre of the governance discussion.
The writer is an independent media and foreign policy. She tweets @MsAishaK.