CITIZENS Barbara's
Column You have a Prayer of Playing ... if you Pay I wanted to be a nun when I grew up, but when I realized I didn't have a vocation,
I became a lobbyist. Well, actually, I gave up the nun thing when I found out about the vow of
obedience in third grade, a few years before the vow of chastity would have changed my
mind anyhow. Then thirty years later, when Proposition 2½ was passed by the voters, I
accidentally became a lobbyist. It seems that if a political activist becomes executive director of a taxpayer
group which wins a state ballot campaign, she can work to defend that new law only if she
registers as a legislative agent. Legislative agent is a euphemism for lobbyist, like sanitary engineer is a
euphemism for trash collector. This may be an unfair analogy, since there are few
occupations more essential to civilization than trash collector, and few less essential
than lobbyist, or for that matter politician. Legislators usually do what they darn well please, which is usually whatever
pleases the legislative leaders, so only occasionally can a lobbyist advance the general
good. There are two basic kinds of lobbyists. My kind runs organizations that fight for
or against certain laws, and part of our job is to communicate with legislators so that
our members have a voice. The other kind is hired, often by a variety of special interest
groups, to look out for those groups' legislative interests full-time. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with any of us. As long as there are
politicians determined to keep themselves busy annoying the rest of the population,
someone should attempt to reason with them and keep them from doing irreversible damage. I've heard that there are professional lobbyists who justify their substantial
salaries or retainers by actually encouraging legislators to do busywork. A large business
group might take turns with labor unions to file a threatening bill, so they can take
turns raising money to fight the threat. And we've all read about lobbyists who spend big money to influence legislation
that will benefit their clients at the expense of everyone else; the news story is
sometimes followed by indictments and prison terms, or by convention center, sports arena
and other assorted "infrastructure." But more commonly, modest amounts of money are given to the same legislator by
both sides, canceling out the influence. This is what usually happens at political
"times," the fundraising events that are held by politicians' re-election
campaigns. Most are just courtesy parties: the legislator being honored has no influence but
he votes with you. Sending a contribution is legitimate because you really do want your
allies to get re-elected. More important are "times" that are held for the Chairman of the
Committee that is in charge of the bill you are proposing or fighting. Most professional
lobbyists consider this "time" a "behooves," as in "it behooves
you to be seen there," even if in fact the Chairman does only what his boss, the
Senate President or the Speaker of the House, allows him to do. Needless to say, if you're serious about getting something passed or killed, the
times held by these two leaders and their Ways and Means Committee Chairmen just before
the budget debate are "big behooves." Being at their "time" won't win
your issue, but not being at their "time" will be duly noted. I sometimes go to events for pro-taxpayer legislators, none of whom are presently
in power, but I never attend the others: this is why I am a registered lobbyist in form
only, and an outsider by trade. If pro-taxpayer bills pass or fail, it is only because the
average citizen decides to become an unpaid lobbyist himself, and works to influence his
legislators with a phone call, letter, or vote on election day. No amount of professional
lobbying or campaign finance reform will ever take the place of that. Barbara Anderson is executive
director of Citizens for Limited Taxation. Her syndicated columns appear in the
Salem Evening News, the Lowell Sun, the Tinytown Gazette and other publications around the
state. |