40 Years in Utah Politics with Four Governors, Mike Mower Wields the Power of the Smile — and the Selfie

Nice guys always finish last, especially in politics, unless you’re Mike Mower — armed with 39,508 photos on your camara roll. 

Actually, Mower is way too decent to ever use his candids or selfies as political leverage. He’s built his boyish nice into a brand — and it’s genuine. 

So much so that the former Mormon missionary from Ferron has now hobnobbed inside Utah’s most powerful political corridors throughout the arc of four consecutive gubernatorial administrations. He’s crisscrossed the state for decades, telling stories, stopping for photos, and perfecting enough retail politics to become endearing. 

Colleagues says there’s something else behind Mower’s success. His stint in law and his policy chops, they say, combined with his sense of humor, history, and human touch make Mower invaluable. 

“He has an incredible memory of places and people, and his sincerity is really what ties it together,” says Lisa Roskelley, who worked with Mower during Gov. Jon Huntsman’s administration as communications director. “It has served him so well, but it’s also served the state and its officials well.” 

A Boy Built for Politics

One could reasonably argue that Mower’s political career began before he was born. Indeed, Mower’s mother was best friends with Joan Lee, the daughter of former Gov. J. Bracken Lee. 

In high school, Mower remembers a visit from Scott Matheson, the last Democrat to serve as governor of the Beehive State. At 17, he was a state delegate when Norm Bangerter ran for governor. And today, the youngest grandchild of former Gov. Calvin Rampton is married to Mower’s daughter. The personal connections to the fabled Governor’s Mansion pulsed early and helped pump a now 25-year run inside it, where Mower has become a main artery. 

“I always grew up with an interest in politics,” Mower says during an interview after returning from a trip to England for his daughter’s sealing, which he discovered was the same weekend as the coronation of King Charles III. (The Underground received a selfie from Buckingham Palace). “They talk about the six degrees of Kevin Bacon. In Utah, it feels like two.” 

As a teenager, Mower was hired to intern for a public official. Following his undergrad at Brigham Young University, he was an intern for former Utah Congressman Howard Nielson and would later work for then-Provo Mayor Lewis Billings.

During law school at the University of Utah, Mower met his first wife, Sheri Williams, a constitutional law teaching assistant. Her success practicing law for large firms in downtown Salt Lake City would later enable Mower to help run Chris Cannon’s congressional campaign. 

After spending two years in Cannon’s district office, Mower served as communications director on Gov. Mike Leavitt’s reelection campaign, remembering that he had to deliver all of the road closure news during the reconstruction of Interstate 15. “I was probably the least popular person in Utah.” 

But Ally Isom, a fellow BYU alum and former deputy chief of staff to Gov. Gary Herbert, who befriended Mower over the course of two governor’s administrations and multiple campaigns, says he is a political natural. 

“He’s absolutely wired for it,” Isom says. “He has an uncanny knack for historic relevance in the midst of current events. And he has a mind for remembering characteristics of certain individuals.” 

Unthinkable Loss & A New Beginning

In October of 2004, Mower’s world careened off its axis when his wife lost her battle with cancer. Suddenly a single parent with four children, ages 4, 6, 8 and 10, Mower needed support — and a change of scenery. 

The family moved from Provo to the Avenues in Salt Lake, where he bought a home close to his parents for help with the kids. He also went to work for Gov. Huntsman and within a year, after the departure of Jason Chaffetz, was named deputy chief of staff. 

Mower remembers Deseret News columnist Frank Pignanelli penning a line about having neckties in his closet with more tenure than Mower. 

“There’s a benefit to the youth and there’s a benefit to the wisdom,” the now-grizzled veteran says in hindsight. “With longevity in the governor’s office comes institutional knowledge.” 

Mower would also re-marry and the couple blended his four children with her two — later adding daughter Grace for a total of seven. 

“Our Christmas card the first year we were married was Brady Bunch themed,” Mower quips. 

During the Huntsman years, Mower recalls one public policy regret. The four 10s work-week, first adopted in Provo and championed by the Governor’s Office, was deemed unworkable after roughly two years and overturned by the legislature. 

“Four 10s was great when my late wife was home and could be with the kids,” says Mower, who says the policy became a hardship after she had passed and he realized how difficult it was to work full time and care for the kids. “You realize that policy positions, good or ill, sure make a difference in people’s lives.” 

Roskelley, then Huntsman communications director, admired Mower’s ability to remain good-natured in tense situations, particularly so soon after losing his first wife. 

“There were times when we would have those melancholy conversations but it was pretty rare,” she says. “It was never lost on people how put together he was based on everything he was going through.” 

Coming to politics from journalism, Roskelley says it was Mower who helped her understand key dynamics and relationships.

“He really had this map in his head at all times where all the lines were connected and he knew how to pull the strings and that was very impressive to me,” Roskelley adds. “He’s an attorney. He has that calculated mind of assessing the situation — he can do that very rapidly. But he does it so well that he doesn’t have to be the tough guy.” 

‘The Mower Rule’

The happy warrior persona and small-town charm are well-known attributes among insiders on Utah’s Capitol Hill. “You’ll find no shortage of people who would say wonderful things about Mike,” agrees Jon Cox, who served as Director of Communications for Gov. Gary Herbert. 

But that reputation was also immortalized in a 2018 book by Cox: Utah Politics: Principles, Theories and Rules of the Game, which included a chapter titled “The Mike Mower Principle.” 

In it, Cox praises Mower as a politico who takes the time to remember the simple, little things. He notes Mower’s propensity for snapping photos on the road of a detail that might be meaningful to someone so he can send it to them to show the person he cares. 

“No town is too small. No organization too unimportant,” the chapter reads. “One time I received a phone call from my parents in rural Utah who said, ‘The nicest man stopped by today.’ Of course, it was Mike Mower.” 

Cox goes on to say Mower will be first on the phone with someone who has suffered election defeat or a round of bad press. 

“Remember the Mike Mower Rule next time you are tempted to gossip about the person who is down on their luck,” the book continues. “The world would be a better place if more people practiced politics the way that Mike Mower does. He is an example to any aspiring politician about the right way to make your way to the top.” 

That personal touch also appears to extend to political foes, even if they are family. Mower is very matter-of-fact about a house divided, noting some of his children are Republican, while others “haven’t been impressed with the GOP brand.” In fact, his son is a Democrat who worked for former Democratic Congressman Ben McAdams, while two of the kids interned for Democratic Utah Rep. Patrice Arent. 

Shortly after Donald Trump was elected president in 2016, Mower sent a Thanksgiving tweet about the ruffled feathers and factions unable to eat together. 

“Trump people ate in the living room,” the tweet read, “Clinton people ate in the dining room, and McMullin people ate in the kitchen.” 

Both the Associated Press and Canadian Broadcasting Corporation picked it up and the latter called to interview Mower and his more progressive son. “I said, ‘we don’t talk politics,’” Mower recalls. “We were coming together for the good of the country, and the family, and for the good of dinner.” 

Isom notes Mower’s comedy is self-deprecating, which takes the intensity out of the moment. 

“He’s never one to poke somebody else in the eye…he’s always rather politically sensitive to the humanity in the room,” she says. “He would diffuse the hostility before things got heated with a quip or a joke — that’s a gift he has.”

“His kids are brilliant,” Isom adds. “They have this inevitable DNA wired for political interests. He’s always really generous with them and it’s really beautiful.” 

Is there anything in today’s hyper-polarized political climate that could turn the Mower smile into cynicism?

“The disappointing thing is it’s become a lot more shrill,” he responds. “I’m aghast sometimes at the incredibly mean comments people will post on Twitter. People in their profiles will proclaim their religious devotion then publish the meanest thing ever.” 

Selfies & Stories

If you follow Mower on Twitter, you’d be forgiven for thinking he worked for the Utah Office for Tourism rather than as a political operative for Gov. Spencer Cox. His upbeat voice on an otherwise toxic app accompanies everything from photos of cherry blossoms framing the Utah Capitol to landmarks from rural outposts across the state. 

There are often selfies, always with smiles, that regularly showcase small groups or individual Utahns. 

“There is so much negativity on Twitter,” says Mower, who made a deliberate decision “to be a positive light.” 

If he drives through Parowan or Nephi, for instance, Mower thinks about which public officials may hail from there to deliver a positive text message and photo. He mentions recent copies of the Sanpete Messenger, The Times-Independent from Moab, and news from Emery County as souvenirs to help stay informed. 

“I do have a propensity to take a lot of selfies,” he says sheepishly. 

When Mower was in London, the roles were reversed. Gov. Cox tweeted a doctored photo of “Mower” standing next to King Charles III at the coronation ceremony, saying “We’ve missed @MikeLMower on his family trip to England. Mike has a special way of making everyone feel like his best friend, grabbing a selfie and sharing photos for years to come. He’s a wonderful representative of Utah!”

For Cox, Mower serves as the Senior Advisor for Community Outreach, reaching out to everyone from the Jewish community to the refugee community, while also facilitating meetings with local officials while traveling with the governor. 

“We work really hard to maintain the connectivity,” he says. 

According to Isom, Mower’s encyclopedic knowledge and “copious notes” make him the perfect partner when writing talking points for an event or crafting the State of the State Address. “I could always count on Mike to applaud at the right moment,” she says. “He’s got such a sharp mind. He could have a sharp tongue, but he chooses kindness.” 

But Mower also has a taste for the dramatic, Isom says, especially if political stagecraft is an option. She remembers the severe windstorms in 2011 when the Utah Department of Transportation warned state leaders about debris becoming airborne and even cautioning the LDS Church to cancel services. The National Guard had mobilized and Isom was trying to coordinate logistics and media.

“Mike was with the governor and I said, ‘whatever you do, don’t make things worse…don’t go directing traffic at the landfill.’ The next thing I know, he’s got the governor directing traffic at the landfill. Of course you did, Mike.”

Isom jokes that Mower’s ubiquitous smartphone photos also have a tendency to cause anxiety — especially since most are never seen. 

“We’re all fearful because he’s always taking candid shots that no one knows he’s taking during an event or meeting,” she notes. “He says they have historical relevance but they always strike deep fear in our hearts.”

Mower Feeds the Missionaries

During an LDS mission to the Pacific Northwest, Mower split time between rural Oregon with Hispanic field workers and proselytizing in Portland. Civil Rights Activist Cesar Chavez happened to be leading a protest of the grape harvest that year and appeared at a local Catholic Church. Mower went to the rally and got to visit with Chavez (and take a selfie) for over an hour. 

In Portland, he hosted “Nothing Doubting with Missionary Mike Mower” on local public access television to talk about the LDS Church. “I remember as I was walking down the street once a guy said, ‘hey, I saw you on TV,’” Mower remembers. “That was before there was 400 channels on TV.” 

Fast forward nearly four decades and Mower continues his unique missionary connections — these days by feeding current missionaries across the country either in person or with pizza delivery. 

“I have a real affinity for missionaries,” Mower says, “so whenever I travel I look up missionaries from around the country and around the world and take them to lunch.”  

He’s ordered pizza for the young men and women in about 20 states. And in places like Hazard, Kentucky and Key Largo, Florida, Mower has taken the entire district out to dinner.

“I really appreciate what they do,” he says. 

Isom says that generosity was also extended to her, during a time of “tremendous realignment,” after her oldest daughter passed away with health issues. “Mike was one of those deeply supportive colleagues who I deeply appreciated,” Isom says. “He was enormously generous and kind during a dark time for me.” 

Roskelley, likewise, credits Mower for being one of the most genuine and thoughtful people she’s ever known. “He brings a levity but not in a class clown kind of way,” she says. “He’s been around the block enough to see all the ways you can do politics. He’s chosen his brand very specifically and it’s admirable.” 

Back to the missions. Mower hopes to be a Utah lifer but sees one scenario that could take him out of state. Since his dad served eight missions with the LDS Church and his mom served seven, “I feel like I at least need to serve one or two,” he shrugs.

We know the selfies and smiles won’t be far behind.