THE WALL STREET JOURNAL / CALIFORNIA
SACRAMENTO -- In a rare moment of unanimity for the cause of good
government, the Legislature last year adopted a sweeping effort to
update the state's political-campaign law -- the landmark initiative
voters enacted at the height of the Watergate scandal a quarter-century
ago.
The Bipartisan Commission on the Political Reform Act of 1974 --
commonly known after its principal sponsor, Republican Sen. Bruce
McPherson of Santa Cruz -- was to bring campaign finance into the
digital era. The 14 members would review ways to make regulations reflect the
Internet's ability to provide near-instantaneous access to contribution
records and other disclosure documents, consider the impact of so-called
independent-expenditure committees and -- in the era of term limits --
make campaign regulations less onerous for newcomers to the political
arena.
And to ensure that the McPherson Commission didn't favor special
interests or Sacramento insiders, the statute creating it set strict
criteria allowing no more than three lawyers active in politics to
serve.
But, it seems, old habits die hard. For when the commission's
membership was announced, it included four of the fearsome Sacramento
sharks -- or, in the words of the law, attorneys "who devote more than
10% of their professional practice time to legislative, political
campaign, or other politically related activities."
What's more, while the statute required that at least one member be a
"representative of a nonprofit public-interest organization," no such
individual apparently could be found. Instead, the commission includes
such consummate insiders as former Assembly Speaker Curt Pringle (R.,
Garden Grove); Dale Bonner, a department head under former Gov. Pete
Wilson; and Kathy Bowler, the executive director of the California
Democratic Party.
The composition came about, it seems, because no one was responsible
for making sure that all the appointments passed muster.
"No officials who made appointments violated the law, but
collectively they did," explains commission member Dan Lowenstein, a law
professor at the University of California-Los Angeles who helped write
the original Political Reform Act.
The result? "In 20 years in California politics, this is the most
stacked deck I've ever seen," says Jim Knox, executive director of
California Common Cause.
Of course, there are two ways to deal with a situation that's
illegal. One is to start obeying the law. The other -- not available to
those of us who aren't lawmakers -- is to change the law.
Unsurprisingly, legislators chose Option B; in February, Sen. McPherson
introduced a bill that would raise the quota of political lawyers to
five. The measure passed the Senate last month and now heads to the
Assembly.
"So many people involved in campaign-finance reform are
attorney-types anyway," says Mr. McPherson. "People don't think it's
that big a problem."
Well, some people apparently do. "This commission is unfair," says
Bob Stern, another co-author of the original Political Reform Act and
now co-director of the nonprofit Center for Governmental Studies in Los
Angeles. For while the McPherson Commission "is bipartisan -- there are
Democrats and Republicans -- what's missing are people who believe in
political reform," he says.
In a letter to Sen. McPherson, Common Cause's Mr. Knox and the
president of the California League of Women Voters, Karyn Gill,
complained that the new bill "violates the spirit of the enabling
legislation and only ratifies the biased composition of the current
commission."
For their part, commission members, who receive $100 for each day of
service, note that they are charged not with rewriting campaign-finance
laws, but with improving their operation -- specifically, as the statute
says, with drafting "administrative, regulatory, procedural and
clarifying changes to the Political Reform Act."
And who better to reform implementation of the act, members argue,
than the political operatives who work most closely with it?
"There is a great deal of knowledge represented on that commission,"
says Mr. Lowenstein, himself a former chairman of the state Fair
Political Practices Commission, which appointed him to the McPherson
panel. (The statute directed the Fair Political Practices Commission to
appoint two of its former chairmen to the reform panel.) "If that can be
brought to bear in a good way, there's a real possibility to do things
that are not sensational but useful," says Mr. Lowenstein.
Joe Remcho, another member and lead attorney in the case against
Proposition 208 -- which voters adopted in 1996 to limit campaign
contributions to a maximum of $500 for statewide elections -- put things
more bluntly.
"I've always seen Mr. Knox and Common Cause as less interested in the
nuts and bolts, and, frankly, I don't think they have a lot to offer on
nuts and bolts," he says. Mr. Remcho, an appointee of Assembly Speaker
Antonio Villaraigosa (D., Los Angeles), was the fourth political lawyer
named to the commission.
But Mr. Knox, who has attended two out of the first three public
meetings of the McPherson Commission, says it's precisely the nuts and
bolts that concern him; the commission, he says, has been considering
loosening the deadlines for candidates to disclose the source of
campaign contributions and ending the requirement that candidates
compile the list of every donor who has given more than $10,000.
The public, Mr. Knox worries, is "not going to find out who's funding
these campaigns in a timely fashion; they'll find out after the
election."
Mr. Knox insists that there are plenty of people who could serve on
the commission who aren't political lawyers. "There's no shortage of
people utterly familiar with the law who have a different perspective,"
he says.
But that's not always how it seems in the corridors of the state
Capitol, where practically everyone you meet is a lawyer or a lobbyist.
"How would they not appoint insiders?" asks the McPherson
Commission's chairman, Steve Lucas, a political lawyer appointed by
former Gov. Wilson. "Those are the only people they know, by
definition."
Indeed, as far as the composition of his commission goes, says Sen.
McPherson, "I'm just glad that all 14 aren't lawyers."
Capital Focus:
McPherson Panel Has
An Awfully Familiar Look
By Ryan Tate
Special to The Wall Street Journal
06/02/1999
The Wall Street Journal
CA1
(Copyright (c) 1999, Dow Jones & Company, Inc.)
Copyright © 2000 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved.