Jefferson Moss Was Born To Be A Politician, Even If He Didn’t Know It

In retrospect, Jefferson Moss’s platform in public office, despite his ah shucks approach, was actually preordained. But you’d never know it from his first foray that fumbled him into a seat on the Saratoga Springs City Council.

Moss read in the newspaper that no candidate was running.

“I thought, crap, if nobody’s going to do it, I should do it,” he remembers.

The birth of the accidental politician is a bit of a metaphor for Moss’s multi-faceted professional life, which suddenly consists of three careers in one. After all, he’s a seasoned financial manager, having worked for Credit Suisse in San Francisco and later Key Bank. He’s a higher education consultant, using his venture capital cred to run Utah Valley University’s endowment. And he’s about to lead the technology district at “The Point,” marrying the commercialization of tech with local workforce alignment, potentially propelling Utah to the apex of the sector for the foreseeable future. 

“He’s always got two phones in his hand and somehow he’s got two text messages going on both phones,” says Rep. Brad Last, who has worked closely with Moss as chair of the Utah House Executive Appropriations Committee. “He’s wired. He’s in hyperdrive all the time and doesn’t seem to require a lot of sleep.” 

Probably a good thing since Moss was also just tapped for leadership on Capitol Hill as House Whip. 

“Because of his abilities, Jeff has really seen a meteoric rise,” explains Rep. Robert Spendlove, who will now replace Moss as vice chair of the Executive Appropriations Committee.

Back to the preordained politician thing. Moss, who also has served on a planning commission and Utah State Board of Education, was born on July 4, 1976 — and says he feels the Jefferson connection. So did his father, who himself served in the Utah Legislature before rising to become Utah’s superintendent of schools. The elder Moss, who died in a tragic car accident when Jeff was 14, always told his son he was bound for public office. 

“It wasn’t coincidence in his mind,” Moss says, “that that was my date of birth.” 

From Bootstrapping a Leather Business to Cryptocurrency

Moss grew up in Orem and majored in philosophy as an undergrad at Brigham Young University. Despite his major, Moss built a leather manufacturing company in college then sold it in 2006 to pursue an MBA at BYU. Turns out, duality was a trait even in those formative years.

In 2009, now married with three children, Moss and his family moved to San Francisco to work for Credit Suisse. They bailed on the Bay Area for more family-friendly Utah County, where Moss managed high asset  portfolios for Key Bank. Then, higher ed came calling. 

Then-UVU President Matthew Holland recruited Moss to serve on the school’s foundation board to run the endowment. Moss used the position to launch a first-ever investment committee, and soon after went to work full time at the university to start a student investment fund named the Wolverine. 

“It’s been a fun ride,” Moss says. “I love the mission of UVU. Anybody can come and it’s very inclusive.” 

It also proved to be flexible enough for the financial expert to serve as a state legislator as Moss won a seat in the House in 2017. 

From the jump, Moss has found himself in strategic spots uncommon for newcomers in the legislature. After his first term. Moss was selected by Speaker Brad Wilson to serve on the powerful Executive Appropriations Committee. He was also chosen to oversee the House political action committee responsible for all election fundraising. 

Clearly, Moss’s acumen for high finance and tech turned heads. He had raised $500,000 with UVU’s student venture fund by investing in early artificial intelligence companies. And he’d become well-versed in the language of emerging technologies such as cryptocurrency, blockchain and non-fungible tokens. 

“Where is the future of technology?” Moss asks rhetorically. “And we’re investing in those companies. I’m spending a big part of my life with the most cutting-edge entrepreneurs.” 

Spendlove, the policy wonk replacing Moss on Executive Appropriations, argues his colleague’s technical understanding of financial markets combined with an affable personality is a true asset. 

“The House couldn’t have picked a better person to add to our leadership team,” Spendlove says. “Leadership is tough and you have to get people to support tough decisions. Jeff is really likeable. The ability to connect with people and get them on board is really essential.” 

Prison Site-Turned Tech Hub and Herding Unicorns

With an office next to his No. 2, Rep. Last has watched Moss operate Appropriations as an honest broker, supporting applicants and making sure each financial request is fairly considered. 

Moss, he says, has a skill in developing relationships and convincing people he can be counted on. 

“His political philosophy has been very consistent and his treatment of people has been really consistent and positive,” Last says. “He really loves to help people.” 

Indeed, Moss argues the ability to listen, to leverage new perspectives and new thinking is the challenge for Utah government going forward. 

“We’re very fortunate to have a Speaker who is very much a planner,” Moss notes. “That is all we talk about: how do we manage this growth? How do we keep the good things going and not let it hurt us? We don’t do enough to bring the best ideas out. Let’s bring more people into the discussion and bring out the best ideas.” 

In that respect, the timing of Moss’s latest job is also interesting, In January, the new Whip will start his position at “The Point,” focused on reinventing the former state prison site into a technology hub fueled by a Utah workforce. 

“Utah is phenomenally well-positioned for this,” Moss insists. “Ten years ago, in Silicon Valley, I would hear ‘What’s going on in Utah?’ Now, we’re one of the meccas.”

Even so, the Silicon Slopes loses its value to Utah if the state’s graduates can’t work in the industry. So, Moss is pushing for businesses to partner with higher education, forcing the famously bureaucratic system to embrace innovation. The hope for The Point is to get students ahead of the creative curve, not behind it. 

“He’s been instrumental in education policy, really for the last decade,” Spendlove says of Moss. “Also, emerging technologies like cryptocurrencies, blockchain, NFTs. That’s something Jeff’s taken a leadership role in. It will be important for the state of Utah and for the nation as a whole.” 

State leaders, it appears, are betting on Moss’s triple-threat of talents — for education, finance and technology — to be a guiding force at The Point and beyond. By elevating Moss to leadership, that influence appears primed to pump the state’s policy arm. 

“How do we leverage all these great things that are happening and let this place be a driver in innovation?” Moss asks, more as a roadmap than a question. “We’re getting a lot of unicorn companies creating wealth. We’ve got good universities. It’s going to snowball — the culture is primed.” 

Child Prodigy to Future Speaker? 

In some ways, Moss’s entrance into the state’s political power center was foretold. As a kid in the 1980s, he remembers all the days sitting on the House floor with his lawmaker father. 

“None of this is foreign to me — that’s the life I grew up in,” Moss says about a childhood partly spent inside Utah’s Capitol. “I always had this feeling that that was what my dad wanted me to do. That’s been my underlying motive through the whole thing.”

That begs the question: does Moss have his sights set on an even loftier perch — perhaps House Speaker? 

Last says his colleague and friend has keenly developed the skill of watching leadership, which puts him in position. 

“I always joke that everyone in the legislature wants to be Speaker,” Last says. “He certainly has the opportunity. Part of that is just the confidence (Speaker) Brad Wilson showed him early on to make him vice chair of executive appropriations. What that does is it puts you in the room.”

Any script writer would chew up the chance to one day anoint the man born on the United States’ Bicentennial. But whether that movie is fantasy of documentary is as tricky to predict as cryptocurrency. Moss, at once reconciling his humility and providence, must be the one to direct it.

“At this point I don’t have any aspirations to keep moving up,” he shrugs. “If something came along, I would listen, but I could walk away tomorrow and say I’ve done what I came to do.”