Gov. Phil Scott is getting positive reviews for standing tall in the public eye, projecting an aura of confidence and strength, displaying leadership in a time of crisis.

All good things, to be sure. But I remember in 2011 when his predecessor Peter Shumlin got the same kind of plaudits for his handling of Tropical Storm Irene. But it turned out that Shumlin was a much less skillful administrator in the absence of a crisis. From this I learned that crises are not the true test of a leader. You need definite skills in such moments, but they are not the same skills that make someone an effective manager in “normal” times or a visionary who can steer the ship of state in a positive direction.

Phil Scott’s true test will come after the immediate crisis, when he will have to learn the right lessons from the Flood of 2023 and craft policies to minimize the chances of similar disasters in the future. And to do so even if it means re-examining his own beliefs and preconceptions, something that hasn’t been his strong suit in the past.

Will he, for example, revisit his go-slow approach to climate change now that we’ve had our faces rubbed in the reality of a hotter, less predictable environment? Will he reconsider his tepid response to homelessness, now that we’ve added countless numbers of unhoused to our already sky-high rate? Will he push ahead with potentially costly resilience efforts aimed at making our human infrastructure more climate-proof?

I doubt it. He’s not that kind of guy.

He is the kind of guy who’ll jump on a piece of his own heavy equipment and help excavate a neighbor out of trouble, as was pictured on Twitter last week and much-touted as an example of what a prince of a fellow Phil Scott is. Sure, I’ve always thought that he’d be the ideal neighbor — very knowledgeable in a wide range of fix-it, mechanical and construction arenas, always willing to pitch in when needed.

Again, that’s not the same skill set that you necessarily want in a political leader. You definitely want the desire to help others and step up in time of need instead of, say, high-tailing it to Cancun à la Ted Cruz. There’s individual empathy, the capacity to respond with care and action to someone right in front of you, and Scott seems to have plenty of that.

And then there’s broader empathy, the capacity to see how groups of people you don’t know could be helped by actions under your control. Scott failed that test big time when he was asked what kinds of flood relief would be on offer to the unhoused, and he had no idea.

Which caused the uncharitable thought to cross my mind, “Well, maybe running your excavator wasn’t the best use of a governor’s time.”

I mean, we’ve just gone through a crisis of deliberate unhousing as a result of Scott’s own policy preferences. The flood has unhoused God knows how many more Vermonters, just as the revised motel voucher program has been closed to any new applicants. This is another aspect of the disaster that will require fresh thinking, imaginative ideas, and maybe even spending money you don’t want to spend. Because it’s either that or leave thousands of Vermonters to their own devices even as you speak proudly of Vermonters stepping up and helping each other through difficult times.

That noble sentiment only goes so far. It remains to be seen whether this crisis will engender a new Phil Scott who is not only capable of meeting this moment, but also of moving the levers of power to prevent future calamities.

I don’t think any more or less of our governor because of how resolute he looks in emergency press conferences. I will think more of him if he is as clear, competent and committed when the televised daily briefings and tours of disaster areas are over. That, to me, is the real test of leadership.