Be a Convener

Prefatory Note

This address was delivered at the 127th Commencement Ceremony of Southern Utah University on April 23, 2026, in Cedar City, Utah.

On this occasion, Michael O. Leavitt was awarded the University’s Presidential Medallion of Service. The following citation was read by Southern Utah University President Mindy Benson at the time of the award presentation.

Presidential Medallion of Service Citation

Distinguished alumnus and statesman Michael O. Leavitt will deliver the keynote address tonight and be awarded the University’s Presidential Medallion of Service.

The eldest son of Dixie and Anne Leavitt—two of our most treasured alumni—he was three times elected Utah’s governor, then dynamically served in two key positions in the administration of President George W. Bush.

His 11 years as Utah’s governor were defined by innovation and fiscal responsibility. With him at the helm, the state hosted the 2002 Winter Olympics and Utah was named America’s best-managed state six times. He was elected to chair the National Governors Association and also led delegations to more than 50 countries, conducting varied negotiations.

In 2023, he resigned from office to join the Cabinet of President George W. Bush, where he served in sequential roles: Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency and Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. He later founded Leavitt Partners, advancing value-based health care, and currently serves as chairman of Intermountain Health.

He has served on the Utah State Board of Regents and led SUU’s Board of Trustees for four years, and his example reminds our graduates that meaningful public service can leave a lasting impact.

Born in Cedar City, he earned a 1978 bachelor’s degree in business and economics here while working in insurance, and here he met his future wife, Jacalyn, with whom he shares five children and 10 grandchildren. He went on to become chief executive of the sprawling family business, The Leavitt Group. He served six years as an officer in the Utah National Guard and, in the 1970s and ’80s, worked on or advised senatorial and other major political campaigns.

During the 2012 presidential campaign, he chaired the Presidential Transition for Republican nominee Mitt Romney and later advised Congress on how to improve such transitions.

Today, he continues to shape the future of healthcare as the founder of Leavitt Partners. And he remains deeply invested in the next generation of leaders through the Leavitt Center for Politics and Public Service here.

Newly named as president of The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, Leavitt hopes, along with Jackie, to couple his strong leadership experience with the choir’s renowned music for a worldwide audience to experience.

Address | Be a Convener

Southern Utah University Commencement

April 23, 2026

Thank you.

I’m not sure there are words that fully capture what this moment feels like to me. To receive an honor like this—here, in the town where I grew up, from an institution that has shaped my life and my family’s life, and to do so in the presence of people I love—is something I never expected and will never forget. I receive it with deep gratitude.

My congratulations to the graduates. I am especially pleased to see parents and loved ones here.

Some years ago, one of our children was graduating with a bachelor’s degree. He said, “They want $69 for the cap and gown. I am not going to commencement.”

I said, “What? You need to go to the ceremony! It is a rite of passage. You will value your graduation picture striding across the stage with your diploma in hand for the rest of your life. Look, I will pay the $69.”

A couple of months later I was standing on the curb at the Los Angeles International Airport, and I received a call from my son. The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hi, what’s up?”

My son: “Well, I did it!”

Me: “Did what?”

My son: “I walked. You know, graduation. Cap and gown, got the picture, just like you said.”

Me: “Wait! What? That was today? What about us? We wanted to be there!”

My son: “Really? I didn’t think it was that big of a deal to you.”

So I would like to begin today by simply saying to all of you: This is a very big deal!

I am happy to say I did see him walk at future graduations. Like all parents here today, I felt proud of his accomplishment.

Though, I have to admit, these occasions make me aware I’m getting older. However, I have concluded that the definition of “old” is: Fifteen years older than whatever age I am now.

That is a principle fully embraced by my 96-year-old father and 93-year-old mother, who are here tonight. (Mom and Dad—please wave.) Graduates, I brought my parents too.

For many of you, today marks the beginning of a significant transition. Change is often a welcome adventure, but for some it brings uncertainty. That uncertainty likely feels very personal. But it is not unusual. Every generation faces it.

One of the forces driving today’s uncertainty is artificial intelligence. May I say—I am spell-bound by Ai. But, I am still very much undecided about where this all leads. I use it constantly.

However, it is a bit unsettling that a lot of the skills we developed in school—information retrieval, basic analysis, even certain forms of creativity—can now be replicated by machines.

Ai can write. It can analyze. It can diagnose. It can create. It can make the judgments required to drive a car or fly an airplane.

Four years ago, I bought a car with auto pilot capabilities. Over those four years I have witnessed steady improvement. My confidence level in its dependability has also increased. It is uncomfortable to admit, but there are moments when I suspect the auto pilot may be more reliable than I am.

I am still on high alert—hand on the wheel and eye on the road—but the machine is gaining ground on the human in this category.

In many ways, artificial intelligence essentially reverses the equation of how human beings generate value. For two centuries we have used machines to enhance what human beings could do. Every one of us must now ask ourselves—what human skills do I bring to a job that a machine cannot possess?

What are the human skills that Ai cannot replace?

Today, I want to offer a list of at least three:

First, emotional intelligence… Ei.

Second, spiritual intelligence… or Si.

Third, collaborative intelligence… Ci.

Emotional, spiritual and collaborative intelligence are and will remain vital capabilities that a machine cannot replicate. Using them alongside Ai will produce an enduring advantage for you in your careers.

On this matter, I draw wisdom not from Elon Musk or Sam Altman, but from my pretty tech savvy 93-year-old mother who recently told a group of business executives this:

“Kindness is a lovely force. But it can only be powered by people. For all our magical gadgets, no appliance, instrument, apparatus, or device has the power to extend kindness to another human being. That power is vested only in people.”

She might have said the same thing about sacrifice, empathy, trust-building, and the ability to inspire people. Machines process information. People understand, but they also feel things more deeply from one human heart to another human heart.

I must remind myself continually that Ara, the Ai voice in my car, is not real. Yet, that voice is consistently so charming. Understanding that Ara’s charm is not kindness—but a mathematical algorithm—is emotional intelligence. Spiritual intelligence (Si) is an even deeper sense of intuition or inspiration.

Without heavy doses of Ei and Si, the world could become a very confusing place.

Collaborative intelligence, or Ci, represents an ability to work to get things done working within networks of people with different points of view or economic interests. This is vitally important—because of this reality: People have succeeded in getting machines to talk to each other—but the most important skill of the 21st century will still be getting people to talk to other people.

I want to pin a label on a skill we can all develop that uses emotional, collaborative, and spiritual intelligence. Enhance this skill and you will become more valuable as an employee or community member or even a friend and family member.

Be a convener.

A convener is someone who identifies a problem, brings together the right people, and uses their collaborative intelligence to find solutions. Underlying most significant accomplishments there is a convener. Conveners help people find shared purpose—they help find the place where conflicting values can co-exist.

These skills matter most in moments of tension—when disagreements arise, when incentives are misaligned, when decisions carry real consequence, and when relationships are tested.

In a world that is increasingly shaped by algorithms, the ability to bring people together will become more—not less—valuable. Yes, artificial technology will analyze problems. It will generate ideas. It will automate tasks. But it cannot do the deep human work of building trust, navigating emotions, helping people move from inactivity to activity, or disagreement toward shared purpose.

What does a convener do?

Imagine it’s a Friday night. You and a group of friends are sitting in your apartment. At the simplest level, a convener is the person who recognizes a shared problem and organizes a group of bored friends to do something productive. You know how to do this—but you may not have thought about it as a vital asset. Look for opportunities to become a convener.

In a professional setting, a convener is the person who sees a problem shared by others and takes action by assembling people to collaboratively fix it. Many fixable problems go unchanged because no one steps forward as the convener.

I know a doctor in a large healthcare organization who became frustrated that women who have been told they have a suspicious lump in their breast were often forced to wait weeks for a biopsy and days afterward for the result. The delays were caused not by a lack of effort, but by scheduling inefficiencies across multiple departments. It was a complex problem, and no one person could solve it.

My friend stepped forward as a convener. He reached out to colleagues in different departments and helped them see the problem—not just from the patient’s perspective, but from their own. It turns out there was what I call “common pain.” The inefficiencies were making it harder for all of them to do their work well. He brought them together. Over time, they examined the process, identified bottlenecks, and improved it.

Artificial intelligence could have identified the inefficiency. It might even make great logistical suggestions on how to arrange things better. But it took a convener to solve the problem.

In the early 1960s, Cedar City was a small college town of fewer than 5,000 people. At the time, Highway 91 ran directly through Main Street. Every traveler driving between California and Salt Lake City passed through town. It was a critical source of customers for local businesses.

But a new interstate—what would become I-15—was being built. It would bypass Cedar City.

Local leaders could see what was coming. Fewer travelers meant fewer customers. It meant fewer jobs. The town’s economic lifeblood was at risk.

A young, 33-year-old theater professor named Fred C. Adams at what was then called CSU (College of Southern Utah) watched this happening. He had no formal authority. No large platform. Just an idea.

What if Cedar City gave people a reason to stop? What if it became a destination for the arts?

The idea that became the Utah Shakespeare Festival was born. Many of the people he approached were not especially interested in Shakespeare. But they shared something more powerful. They shared a common concern. Their community’s future was uncertain.

Fred Adams’ Ei (emotional intelligence) told him that this common pain he observed in the community could be the energy to ignite a dream he held. He had the Ci (collaborative intelligence) to bring people together. He helped them see a shared opportunity. He convened.

And from that effort came the Shakespeare Festival that has shaped this community for generations.

Graduates, if you want to influence the world, your community, or your place of employment—step forward as a convener.

Two hundred fifty years ago, our nation was formed as a product of great convening. Thirteen independent colonies—each with its own interests—faced a common problem. Leaders such as John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin worked to bring people together as conveners. The Declaration of Independence was born and a revolution won.

But independence did not create unity. The new states struggled. There were disputes. There was no stable system. The nation was fragile.

Once again, conveners were needed. Leaders sought out the one person who could bring the states together: George Washington. George Washington became the convener. It was George Washington’s Ei (emotional intelligence) that caused people to trust and follow him. He brought people together with different interests and strong disagreements—and helped them find common ground.

From that effort came our Constitution. From that Constitution came a nation. And it took a convener.

In the governor’s mansion on South Temple in Salt Lake City, there is a ballroom on the top floor. One evening, I was scheduled to speak to a group of about 80 students there. My wife, Jackie, had other responsibilities, and we couldn’t find a babysitter.

Finally, I persuaded our 10-year-old son to watch our 3-year-old for one hour—in exchange for a trip to 7-Eleven, where he would receive a quart of chocolate milk that would be his and his alone.

I was giving my speech, and as I reached what I believed was the rhetorical high point of my remarks, I heard the large oak doors at the back of the room rattle. They opened. Two small hands pushed them wide, and my son stepped into the room.

In a voice that carried clearly across the ballroom, he announced, “It’s been an hour. Your time is up.”

Well, I believe my time is up today. But a new chapter of your life is just beginning. You enter a world changing at mind-bending speed.

When it comes to change, each of us has three options:

We can fight it and fail—overcome by events.

We can accept it and have a chance.

Or, we can lead it and prosper.

Every generation of Americans—starting with the conveners who formed this nation 250 years ago—have faced the headwinds of change by leading.

Lean into the future. Become a convener. Learn to use Ai, but develop your Ei, Si and Ci.

The world needs conveners—in large ways and in small. Be one of them.

May God bless you in your future. May God continue to bless this great university. And may God bless the United States of America in our second 250 years.