By Nathan Gotsch

In the August edition of Forefront, Bill Taft wrote about his fear that Indianapolis was in a “civic leadership recession.” His column generated significant conversation in the circles I’m privileged to move in—I think because he put into words what so many people have been feeling.

Taft called out local elected officials for “not taking the reputational risks or spending the political capital necessary to take on our biggest challenges” and organizational leaders for turning inward to ensure “the sustainability of their own institution rather than leveraging their assets and networks for transformative improvements.”

It’s understandable that so many Hoosiers would be in survival mode right now, especially considering the chaos of the last decade. In times of instability, the instinct to preserve and protect can be strong. But history teaches us that such periods are also prime opportunities for much-needed innovation.

I’ve discovered that firsthand in my own work. As you might know, I’m helping to lead a new initiative to return competitive elections to our state called Independent Indiana. It was inspired in large part by two events I attended last year: the memorial service of civic leader Jim Morris and the dedication of a statue of his one-time boss, former Indianapolis Mayor and U.S. Sen. Richard Lugar.

At both, speakers celebrated each man’s extraordinary commitment to public service. What wasn’t spoken about, however, was the bold—some might say reckless—gambit that opened the door for their exemplary careers in the first place.

The 1964 election was a bloodbath for Republicans in Indiana. As a result, in Marion County, a group of young would-be leaders—led by a brash 40-year-old former state legislator named Keith Bulen—decided they needed to take over the local GOP, then run by out-of-touch party boss H. Dale Brown.

The stakes were high: Failing in their challenge of Brown would mean the end of their political careers. Despite steep odds, their candidates won such a resounding victory in the 1966 primaries over those of the GOP establishment that Brown resigned as county chair soon after. Bulen took over that role, setting the stage for a young school board member—Dick Lugar—to win an upset race for mayor the next year. Jim Morris worked on that campaign. After the election, he became Lugar’s first chief of staff.

The courageous actions of Bulen and his team—which included John Mutz and Ned Lamkin—set the stage for the renaissance of Indianapolis in the 1970s and 1980s that fueled the growth of both the city and our state.

Their story isn’t just a history lesson. It’s a reminder that civic revival doesn’t come from caution. It’s often fueled by a new generation willing to take risks—and when individuals who came before them choose to back that boldness rather than retreat into self-preservation.

Today, Indianapolis and Indiana again stand at a crossroads. There are young people in the mold of Bulen and his team who’ve been hatching enterprising plans to move our state forward. (I’ve met with several.) The question is whether the support, resources and encouragement they need will be provided by the older generations who’ve benefited from what gutsy leaders of the past built for them.

The antidote to our civic leadership recession is the same today as it was in 1966: courage. Keith Bulen and his peers proved that in moments of decline, smart, high-stakes risks can spark decades of renewal. If we want Indianapolis and Indiana to thrive again, we cannot wait for safer times or more certain conditions.

We must act now.