That’s an inescapable conclusion after an Oklahoma House committee recently torpedoed a proposal aimed at reining in the too-frequent practice of lawmakers departing office one day and signing on as Capitol lobbyists the next.
It’s mind-boggling how often jersey-swapping occurs – in the last decade, at least two dozen former legislators registered with the Oklahoma Ethics Commission to schmooze their former colleagues.
Sadly, blurring the lines separating public and special interest payrolls breeds suspicion that too many lawmakers prioritize the desires of the powerful over workaday Oklahomans.
Hence, the old joke that legislators should be required to wear coveralls like NASCAR drivers, bearing the logos of their sponsors.
With only one full legislative year under his belt, Rep. Jim Shaw, R-Chandler, offered a possible solution: His HB 3727would have imposed a cooling off period – four years after leaving office before former legislators could register to lobby.
It went nowhere, fast. Rejected in a 6-2 House Civil-Judiciary Committee vote. The legislative equivalent of not making it out of March Madness’ first round. Four Republicans and two Democrats gave it thumbs down, some expressing reservations that, as written, it wouldn’t survive a constitutional challenge in court, much less solve the problem.
Perhaps. There’s no reason for Oklahoma lawmakers to tee up another sure legal loser that wastes taxpayer treasure. But consider this: According to the National Conference of State Legislatures, 34 states require a cooling off period.
In other words, they found a way to make things work … for The People.
That suggests two things: One, tightening up the system to avoid any appearance of impropriety is not a high priority of the Oklahoma Legislature. And two, the bill’s publicity-hound author doesn’t rank high on supermajority Republicans’ collegiality list.
If it were a GOP priority and if Shaw didn’t tend to rankle his colleagues, the proposal might still be alive, efforts continuing to craft appropriate, and legal, language that would reduce what Shaw called ex-legislators’ “unfair advantage over policy experts, grassroots advocates and small businesses by immediately capitalizing on relationships we formed while in office.”
To be sure, this is an ethical problem of Sooners’ own making – fallout from their 1990 vote to make Oklahoma the first state to impose legislative term limits.
How so? For better or worse, term limits helped alter the type candidates willing to pursue legislative seats. What once was viewed as a short-term sacrifice for the greater good – or, if everything went well, a potential public service career – became a steppingstone to more lucrative opportunities representing businesses and industries who “need protecting” at the Capitol.
Today, it often seems lawmakers arrive at NE 23rd and Lincoln Blvd. on the lookout for their next gig, knowing they have – at most – 12 elective years in which to build a post-electoral foundation for career success.
Remember the notion of the citizen-legislator? Sacrificing to spend a few years traveling to OKC to represent their communities? Then returning to run their local businesses, farms or law firms?
Seems so quaint now. And frankly, it never was the case. As some discovered, arriving at the Capitol as an elected decider is the equivalent of the World War I-era song How Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down on the Farm? … once they’d seen the bright lights of the city.
One former legislator [who did not become a lobbyist] describes his statehouse years as the “most intoxicating job I ever had.” Every phone call or email promptly returned. Dining invitations. Golf outings.
Shaw isn’t wrong that legislators-turned-lobbyists give special interests even more advantages. A cooling off period can work. Just ask 34 other states.
