How Benjamin Franklin Convinced Me That Networking Mattered

Instead, the first members included a self-taught mathematician, a surveyor, a clerk, a joiner and a merchant’s clerk, among others. Each possessed different skills and expertise while sharing a hunger to improve both themselves and their community.

For Franklin, he saw the Junto as “a club of mutual improvement” — not a vehicle for individual advancement but a group explicitly committed to getting better together. The rules reflected this. Every member had to bring questions on morals, politics or natural philosophy for discussion. They rotated leadership, held debates conducted “in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory.” The Junto even banned expressions of absolute certainty to prevent ego from getting in the way of real thinking. 

They structured conversations with questions that would heighten the group’s understanding of themselves and their community. 

Specifically: 

“Have you met with anything in the author you last read, remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto?” 

“Do you know of any fellow citizen, who has lately done a worthy action, deserving praise and imitation?” 

“In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you in any of your honorable designs?” 

Notice what’s absent: self-promotion, resume building, elevator speeches, status seeking, business cards, bad coffee (though, in all likelihood, the coffee was probably pretty terrible). 

Franklin’s Junto was his form of networking. He valued curiosity, experimentation, and self and societal improvement and created a convening space for his growth. The Junto wasn’t a network for individual gain. It was a mutual aid society in service of the public good. 

And, it worked. Out of the Junto came proposals for the first lending library in America, the Union Fire Company, the University of Pennsylvania, a volunteer militia and the Pennsylvania Hospital. 

Members didn’t “network” their way to success. They built their way there together and created institutions that still exist today. 

What happened to this failing businessman in his early 20s? He became the American polymath. Besides numerous inventions including bifocals and the lightning rod, he secured French aid during the American Revolution and helped draft the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution.

You don’t have to form an official club to apply Franklin’s model. But his approach reveals something crucial about how public service leaders actually succeed: They surround themselves with people who share their commitment to collective good, who challenge their thinking, who bring different expertise and who actively help each other accomplish their work. 

This isn’t networking as most people think of it. This is building your civic leadership ecosystem: the intentional community that makes your best work possible. 

So, where do you start? 

Identify who cares about what you care about. If you’re clear on your values and your work, who else shares that commitment? Who’s already doing work you admire? Where do people with those shared values gather? How can you show up authentically in those spaces? 

Practice. Not a pitch. Not an elevator speech. Not a handful of business cards in your sweaty palm. Just: “Here’s what I care about. Here’s what I’m working on. I’d love to know if you care about this too.” Say it to people you trust. Notice what feels true. Notice who responds with recognition. Notice who wants to build alongside you. 

Your Junto isn’t a networking strategy. It’s a leadership practice. It’s how you stay grounded in your values. It’s how you stay brave. It’s how you stay connected to the why behind the work. 

In my John Glenn College of Public Affairs MAPS course in March, we’ll explore how to be more intentional about the people in your circle, how to build relationships rooted in shared commitment and how to create the kind of community that makes better governance possible. 

Because the best change doesn’t happen when ambitious individuals network their way to the top. It happens when the right people find each other and build something together. 

Emily Krichbaum, Ph.D. is an award-winning American historian, speaker, and educator. She leverages historical narratives to inspire teams, strengthen organizational culture, and drive meaningful engagement. She serves as the Director of Strategic Programs & Education at the National Women’s History Museum, an Honored Visiting Graduate Faculty for Teaching American History, and a facilitator for Management Advancement for Public Service (MAPS) through the John Glenn College of Public Affairs at The Ohio State University. Her stories and research have been featured on NPR, the Smithsonian, TEDx, and academic presses. She is currently writing her first book, “A Marathon & A Sprint: The 100 Year History of Women Running in the Olympics.”