A Boston firm found an unusual way to move public projects forward: treat the meeting, the map and the message as one piece of infrastructure.
Shockey Consulting sells something city halls badly need and cannot manufacture on command: a credible conversation. Its best work begins where the engineering ends and the public questions start.
On Arizona's biggest public projects, the decisive technology may be a hotline, a bilingual survey and a clock. This small Phoenix firm turns public attention into an operating system.
For nearly half a century, this small Boston firm has worked in the gap between a technically correct plan and a public willing to live with it. Its product is not publicity. It is a room where the hard questions can finally be asked.
Hollaway built an unusual consultancy around a simple observation: the science can be right and the room can still be lost. Its answer is to put field scientists, planners, communicators, and designers on the same side of the table.
K Strategies built a business around the awkward space where big civic projects meet actual human beings. The work looks like PR from a distance; up close, it is translation, trust and a very detailed meeting plan.
Cortez Consulting built a business by noticing who was missing from Austin's public conversations. A decade later, it is taking the same habit inside the organizations that run them.
After the Camp Fire, Paradise needed a way to reach a scattered community. Blue Flamingo Group built a communications practice around the difficult distance between receiving a message and doing something with it.
An environmental report and a neighborhood conversation rarely speak the same language. Circlepoint has built a consulting business around getting them into the same room.
A civil engineer built a communications agency around a stubborn problem: a technically sound project still has to make sense to the people who live with it.