Money Out, People In

Tallahassee, Fla.— Lawton Chiles was tired of seeing corporations and other private interests buy lawmakers into office. After 18 years as a United States Senator, the veteran lawmaker had seen more than his share of backroom deals where fellow legislators catered to wealthy campaign contributors.

In his 1990 bid for the governorship of Florida, Chiles decided to do something about it. Rejecting business as usual, he set a $100 limit on contributions to his campaign, refused donations from political action committees (PACs), and stumped across the state vowing to kick big money out of politics.

Despite his name recognition, Chiles found the financial odds stacked in his opponent’s favor. Incumbent Bob Martinez raised $10.6 million — almost twice as much as Chiles, mostly from the construction industry, lawyers, and doctors. Martinez averaged $690 a contribution. Chiles, with four times as many contributions, averaged just $65.

Yet when the ballots were counted, Chiles won — with 60 percent of the vote. True to his word, the new governor set to work to rid the system of private money. Wooing state legislators to his side, Chiles enacted a strict campaign finance law that limits contributions and spending, requires more complete disclosure, forces media to give candidates low-cost air time, and taxes political parties and PACs to provide public funds for statewide candidates who voluntarily limit campaign spending. “This is part of people believing they are part of the system again,” says Chiles. “Does this mean the end to all troubles? No, it does not. But it really shakes the game up.”

While Chiles was shaking things up in Florida, Dennis Kelly and other grassroots activists in western Massachusetts were taking the fight over campaign finances to the streets. Members of the Pioneer Valley Pro-Democracy Campaign went door-to-door handing out leaflets calling for “equal political opportunity for all.” Their goal: Eliminate all private money by financing campaigns with public funds.

A system of public financing, says Kelly, would remove economic barriers that prevent most citizens from running for office. “We don’t look at this as food stamps for politicians,” he says. “We see it as a way of getting good people into office.”

Although Kelly and Chiles are miles apart in both geography and political technique, they are both working to restore public faith in democracy. Like other reform advocates across the country, they are struggling to take the money out — and put the voters back in.

“What is needed to bring that about is grassroots organizing,” says Kelly. “We have to put pressure on the system in order to change it.”

 

The Money Flow

The need to clean up campaign finances gained widespread public attention after the Watergate scandal of the early 1970s. The televised hearings into the Nixon administration revealed an executive branch awash in secret slush funds, beholden to wealthy contributors — and willing to break the law to get its way.

Outraged, some states passed laws to reverse the tide of corruption. Candidates were required to disclose the sources of some contributions, and voters were allowed to dedicate a dollar or two of their taxes to help finance the campaigns of candidates who agreed to limit their reliance on private donors.

Although the efforts were well-intentioned, the results have been mixed. While some states have managed to provide public financing for statewide races, mud-slinging campaigns and dirty politics have undermined taxpayer support for public financing, leaving state coffers nearly empty. Candidates have found ways to get around limits on spending and contributions. The scandals haven’t stopped.

“A lot of things that were done a decade ago or so are failing,” concedes Bill Hauda, director of Wisconsin Common Cause.

One thing the reforms did accomplish is greater disclosure of how money flows through the political system. Tons of paper are now routinely filed with various state and federal agencies by political action committees, lobbyists, candidates, and those appointed to public office. “Disclosure reinforced people’s feeling that they had a right to know,” says Samantha Sanchez, director of the Money and Politics Project for the Western States Center in Montana.

In fact, so much information is now recorded — and in such a haphazard fashion — that tracking the flow of money generally requires a computer database. For example: Candidates must report contributors by name, address, donation date, and amount given. But the names may be in no logical order. With a computer, researchers can pinpoint the largest givers, arrange them by zip code, and find common dates that may indicate a fundraising party or “bundling” of gifts by a special interest. The major fault in campaign disclosure laws in the South is that they fail to require contributors to identify their employer and occupation. Only through painstaking research can major newspapers and research groups hope to discover patterns, such as nursing home owners, chiropractors, developers, or sugar interests backing candidates who deliver special favors.

 

Bo Knows Sleaze

Such patterns provide a revealing profile of who’s spending how much to influence whom. Unfortunately, disclosure laws leave out entire areas of cash flow, allowing contributors to funnel money to candidates without public scrutiny. Nearly two decades after Watergate, there are still plenty of ways to get cash to elected officials.

Contributors are not required, for example, to disclose the amounts they raise for a candidate — which can be 100 times more than they report in personal donations. Contributors can also pay a candidate undisclosed amounts for a speech or a vacation in Hawaii. Several states require lobbyists or legislators to report the value of gifts, or ban them altogether if they exceed $50 or $100; but enforcement is worse than haphazard.

Another method of undisclosed support is buying insurance, construction, legal, or other services from a firm owned by a legislator. Southern utilities — among the most influential PACs and lobbyists — are notorious for keeping dozens of legislators on retainer, with their ratepayers picking up the tab.

There are also countless less direct ways to trade favors. The daughter of one North Carolina legislator asked lobbyists for up to $100 each for her sorority’s debutante fundraiser. “Your support as a sponsor will be greatly appreciated,” wrote Chyla Hunter. “My father and I thank you in advance.” Asked about the shakedown, the father said, “I cannot and will not apologize.”

Influence peddlers can also donate to various slush funds that office holders set up. The commercial credit industry in North Carolina rallied 40 of its members to pump $6,000 into Lieutenant Governor Jim Gardner’s Inaugural Committee. Governor James Martin’s Inaugural Committee accepted $212,000 from the leading Tarheel corporations; now that he is retiring, they are pouring similar amounts into the Jim Martin PAC, which he may spend at his discretion.

In Texas, Lonnie “Bo” Pilgrim visited the floor of the state Senate a few days before a key vote on a worker compensation law. Pilgrim, a millionaire chicken processor, approached several lawmakers, asked them “to give us a win-win bill” — and then handed each a $10,000 check with the payee line left blank. “I didn’t know the name of their campaign file,” he deadpanned.

“I was pretty startled,” admitted one senator. The district attorney called it “outrageous conduct,” but allowed that “the bribery statute has a loophole big enough to drive a truck through.”

Such examples — all reported amid great indignation in daily newspapers — underscore just how many pockets politicians have in their coats. If disclosure laws require them to empty one pocket to public scrutiny, they simply fill up another pocket not covered by disclosure statutes.

Unfortunately, exposing this kind of dirty politics also seems to have soiled the very enterprise that post-Watergate muckrakers wanted to clean up. Instead of targeting their anger at wealthy contributors, many citizens have cast a wide net of suspicion over anyone connected with government. Millions of people now share the view of state and federal legislators held by Billy Anderson of Stanley, North Carolina. “You want my opinion of those guys?” Anderson told a reporter. “They’re so crooked they’ve got to screw their socks on.”

 

“A Money Chase”

The post-Watergate reforms have not only failed to control the behavior of private donors — they have also failed to get a handle on the soaring cost of running for office. Fueled by huge contributions from special interests, election campaigns consume hundreds of millions of dollars each year, turning the halls of government into an exclusive “millionaires only” club.

Just how much do elections cost? The price is climbing fast In Florida, legislative candidates spent a total of $20 million in 1990, three times the 1980 total. In Kentucky, total spending has jumped tenfold in the last 20 years. In North Carolina, the average campaign for the state legislature in 1990 cost seven times as much as races in 1976.

At the federal level, the presidential and congressional elections could consume an astonishing $1 billion this year, counting independent candidate Ross Perot’s millions.

Where does all the money go? According to election records, a lot goes just to raise more cash. The typical congressional candidate spends one dollar in five for fundraising. Senator Jesse Helms poured 61 cents of every dollar he raised for his 1990 re-election campaign back into direct-mail fundraising.

Disclosure reports also reveal that much of the campaign money is consumed by pollsters, publicists, media advisors, and other consultants. The high-tech nature of modem politics puts more distance between the candidate and the voter, and drives up the price per vote. Money still gets funneled to individuals and groups for “get-out-the-vote” efforts — but in some states, the funds are essentially spent to buy the endorsement of key leaders or local organizations. Some incumbents facing little opposition even send their campaign funds to other candidates, apparently to consolidate their leadership position.

The rising cost of running for office means challengers don’t stand much chance of success. Despite widespread public distrust of Congress, 96 percent of the members running for office in 1990 were re-elected. Many faced no opposition at all because they could use their positions to build sizable war chests that intimidated potential opponents.

“It’s easy to raise money in Washington,” says Daniel Buck, chief of staff for Representative Pat Schroeder. “The longer you’re here, the easier it is to depend on your committee assignment to help raise money. People know to show up with a check. You don’t have to ask.”

The money flow is just as automatic in state legislatures, enabling incumbents to raise and spend far more than challengers — and to win again and again until they decide to retire. In North Carolina, campaign records show that winners spent twice as much as losers in the 1990 state House elections and nearly three times as much in the Senate races — $50,900 per winning senator compared to $17,700 for each loser.

“From the time they get elected, many legislators are on a money chase to fund their next election,” says Patricia Watts of N.C. Common Cause.

 

Private Money Out

With politics so mired in cash, can we really hope to straighten things out? Many people think so. In the past few years, grassroots activists and concerned public officials have renewed the push to take the private money out of politics. Here’s a look at some of their efforts:

Limit what candidates spend and receive. Putting a ceiling on campaign spending and contributions — including how much individuals can give to PACs and political parties — pushes candidates to compete on the basis of merit rather than money.

Such limits received a serious setback in 1976, when the Supreme Court ruled that federal ceilings on campaign spending violate the free-speech rights of candidates. Consequently, the only way to limit spending is with a voluntary system.

New Hampshire has taken the most innovative approach to voluntary limits. Candidates who agree to limit their spending can waive expensive filing fees and petitions. In the 1990 elections, all but five of the 1,430 candidates for state office abided by the limits.

Some activists want to go even further. Ben Senturia, co-director of the Center for Active Citizenship, suggests that candidates be required to raise 2,000 contributions of $5 each to be eligible to run for office. “Candidates would qualify because of the breadth of their support, not access to wealth,” he says.

Disclose the source of all contributions. Forcing candidates to reveal where they get their money helps ensure public accountability and limit special influence. Some states are now beginning to require broader reports on contributions to prevent politicians from circumventing disclosure laws. In Arizona, for example, a scandal known as AzScam prompted the state to reform its disclosure law last year. After seven state legislators were indicted for accepting cash in exchange for supporting a gambling bill, the state passed legislation requiring contributors to identify both their occupation and their employer. The new law also limits gifts from lobbyists to under $10 and requires lobbyists to disclose donations more frequently.

Enact ethics laws to punish politicians who abuse their public office for personal gain. After more than a dozen state legislators in South Carolina were accused of extortion and bribery, lawmakers passed a 153-page ethics law that limits campaign donations and prohibits lobbyists from giving gifts to public officials.

New Jersey also passed a law extending the state ethics code to municipalities without their own ethics rules. Thanks to the new measure, 22,000 elected officials in the state are now covered by an ethics code.

Enforce existing laws. States need to keep closer tabs on whether candidates, PACs, and lobbyists file information on time, abide by contribution and spending limits, and follow ethics laws. The task is enormous and expensive, but some states are giving candidates financial incentives to play by the rules. New Hampshire imposes a fee on any campaign spending above the prescribed limit — ranging from one percent for excess spending up to $100, to 100 percent for excess spending over $1,000.

The new ethics law in South Carolina imposes criminal and civil penalties for violations. And the Rhode Island ethics commission has fined former Governor Edward DiPrete $30,000 for helping his cronies get state contracts.

Use the news media to hold candidates accountable. “The press enforces the laws,” says Deborah Nankivell of Minnesota Common Cause. The group got an important boost in its reform efforts when the St. Paul Pioneer Press published a 28-page special section analyzing the influence of big money in state politics. “Our greatest ally is the press,” Nankivell adds.

Newspapers and television stations in several Southern states have examined the truthfulness of political campaigns in “truth boxes” and “ad watches,” forcing candidates to withdraw inaccurate accusations about opponents.

Other reformers say that since the air waves legally belong to the public, the media should be required to provide candidates with free access to TV and radio. A Kentucky TV station has been offering free time to candidates for the U.S. Senate since 1984 to help focus campaigns on issues and discourage mud-slinging.

 

Public Money In

Whatever reforms activists support — free media access, tighter spending limits, tougher disclosure laws — a growing number agree that states need to place a greater emphasis on providing public financing for all political campaigns.

“Band-Aid reforms are not the right approach,” says Ellen Miller of the Center for Responsive Politics, a Washington-based group working to educate grassroots activists about money and politics. “Reform of the system is what’s needed. You can’t do that with piecemeal methods.”

Miller is a member of the Working Group for Electoral Democracy, a network of activists advocating complete public financing. Many members of the group believe that taking all private money out of politics could form the foundation of what one calls a “national pro-democracy movement.”

Although a declining number of taxpayers are checking the box on their state tax forms to devote $1 to public financing, polls still show nearly 60 percent of all taxpayers favor a ban on private money. “Public financing is a difficult issue because people view it as giving money to politicians,” says Ed Davis, director of issue development for Common Cause. “We view it as using $1 or $2 to replace large contributions.”

According to Common Cause, New Jersey has “the most successful of the state public financing laws.” Although the state pays only for the governor’s race, public money has opened the field to a wider range of candidates. Between 1977 and 1986, all but six of42 candidates have received public financing — and nearly a third of all taxpayers agreed to provide money for the races.

Minnesota and Wisconsin are the only states that provide public funds for state legislative races. In 1990,66 percent of Wisconsin candidates and 93 percent of Minnesota candidates limited spending in exchange for public funding.

“Spending limits and public financing have helped increase the number of individuals participating in the political process in Minnesota,” said Robert Vanasek, speaker of the state House. “Not only have there been fewer and fewer unopposed races, but elections have become much more competitive.”

 

Ballots Not Bucks

Taking private money out and replacing it with public funds is only half die solution to rejuvenating the American political system, activists say. At the same time they are pushing to rid campaigns of high price tags and special interests, reformers are trying to encourage more voters to participate in the system — to counter big contributions with big turnouts at the polls.

Activists acknowledge that they are fighting a slow, uphill battle. Voter turnout has plunged to all-time lows, and getting people to believe that their vote can make a difference is hard work. “It takes a lot of education,” says Nacho Gonzalez, resource director for the Working Group for Electoral Democracy.

“People won’t get radicalized until they see how it connects to their own issue,” adds Janice Fine, another Working Group member. The group tries to show environmental, labor, and women’s organizations that they won’t win on their own issues until big money interests are purged. Proponents of reform advocate practical ways to get the word out and eliminate barriers to registering and voting:

Educate citizens about campaign finances. The Center for National Independence in Politics compiles lists of contributors and documents the performance of lawmakers in all 50 states. The Center for Responsive Politics sponsors state conferences where activists gather to discuss strategies for pushing for reforms on the streets and in the legislature.

Make it easier to register and vote. Some states have established “motor voter” programs enabling drivers to register to vote when they get their license. The programs make registration easier and save money by cutting down on paperwork.

The military now allows personnel to use fax machines for absentee voting, and a voting-by-mail system would make voting easier for elderly, disabled, and rural voters. The city of San Diego used mail voting to cut election costs and increase voter turnout to 61 percent, a local record for a special election.

Broaden the constituency. Many groups are working to include voters who have been excluded from the political process. The National Coalition for the Homeless is developing a national get-out-the-vote campaign for homeless citizens, and the National Coalition on Black Voter Participation is sponsoring a project to educate and register black voters in 29 states.

Colorado has changed its election code to automatically deputize tribal secretaries as registrars, making it easier for Native Americans to register and vote. And local officials in Dade County, Florida are reaching out to new voters, allowing 18-year-olds to register to vote in their classrooms. Put campaign finance reforms on the ballot. In many states, activists are pushing lawmakers to submit reform measures directly to the voters. Public financing has been enacted or expanded by popular votes in Hawaii, Minnesota, and Rhode Island. And in Amherst, Massachusetts, the Pioneer Valley Pro-Democracy Campaign drafted a law calling for complete public financing, and then succeeded in getting enough petition signatures to put the proposal on the ballot. The measure passed by a 3-to-l margin.

Gwen Patton, a member of the Working Group and director of the Southern Rainbow Education Project, says voters are pushing a similar ballot initiative in Greene County, Alabama. Such fights to get private money out of politics, she says, represent a continuation of the civil rights struggles to overcome racial barriers and extend the vote to all Southerners.

“It’s absolutely insulting to know people have died for the right to vote only to find their vote doesn’t count,” she says. “It makes a mockery of our struggle — but it also provides a motivation to get the money out.”