WHAT’S a more urgent concern in Albany: child hood obesity or public corruption?
In last week’s hourlong State of the State speech – with its lengthy aside about overweight kids, but not a single reference to Albany’s rampant corruption crisis – Gov. Paterson made his priorities clear.
Yet the governor is mistaken if he assumes that the state’s fiscal plight and a random health scare will disguise the fact that New York is mired in one of the worst ethical eras in state history.
Just consider the crime spree of the last six years – in which at least 11 lawmakers have been under investigation, charged or convicted of corruption.
The malfeasance has been largely of two kinds: influence peddling and theft. The first applies to the cases of Republican ex-Sen. Guy Velella and Democratic ex-Assemblywomen Gloria Davis and Diane Gordon (all three convicted of bribery), as well as Democratic Assemblyman Anthony Seminerio (indicted on charges of pocketing $1 million in payoffs), and former Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno (a Republican who has been the subject of a three-year federal probe connected to his personal consulting business).
Falling into the second category are Democratic ex-Assemblymen Roger Green (who pleaded guilty to petty larceny for billing the state fraudulent travel expenses) and Brian McLaughlin (the former labor leader pleaded guilty to looting $2.2 million from taxpayers and unions), Democratic ex-Sen. Efrain Gonzalez (indicted on charges of siphoning more than $400,000 in state funds from nonprofit groups), and Sen. Ruben Diaz Sr. and his son Assemblyman Ruben Diaz, Jr. (a social-service agency bankrolled by the two Democratic lawmakers is under federal scrutiny).
Of course, there’s also then-Gov. Eliot Spitzer’s misuse of police resources and the ever-widening state investigation into a pay-for-play pension-fee scheme under ex-Comptroller Alan Hevesi.
Don’t forget the blurrier conflict-of-interest cases, such as Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver, who refuses to disclose details about his work for the tort-law firm Weitz & Luxenberg.
Corruption in Albany isn’t new. The most veteran lawmakers began their careers in the 1960s – when the O’Connell-Corning machine was plundering the public treasury to finance the construction of Empire State Plaza, the capital’s marble monument to graft.
The difference today is a matter of size and danger. In the ’60s, the state budget was about $5 billion. It’s now soared past $120 billion – and the opportunities for abuse have grown with it.
In times of plenty, New Yorkers may have tolerated Albany’s culture of corruption as a byproduct of the sausage-making. But the worst financial crisis in generations has raised the stakes: We’re counting on lawmakers who’ve spent years figuring out how to profit from their public service to now behave responsibly.
The governor, who’s struggling to keep Albany solvent, could argue that he has more pressing concerns than policing lawmakers. Problem is, the corruption crisis and the state’s fiscal mess are intertwined.
Decades of back-room favors, patronage, influence peddling and outright theft add up. When lawmakers treat the tax dollar as something to trade or loot, they naturally want more of it. Asks David Grandeau, the deposed head of the state lobbying commission: “Don’t they realize that you end up with fiscal crises because there is no integrity?”
Seminerio’s case is a good example. For years, he helped pass legislation that enriched the health-care industry and contributed to Medicaid bloat. Angry that his mouth wasn’t in the trough, he demanded his fair share. “I was doing favors for these sons-of-bitches there . . . Screw you, from now on, you know, I’m a consultant,” he was recorded saying.
I spoke to one lawmaker who described the mindset inside the legislative chambers this way: “When you sit around and look at what you’ve accomplished and look at all the people you’ve helped get rich, you say, ‘What the hell. Maybe I’m not doing it right.’ If you’re not motivated by good, you wonder why you’re helping other people and not yourself.”
In other words, if you’re just doing the bidding of a few interest groups and lobbyists, you’re unlikely to find prestige or pride in public service. And you’re going to be tempted to pursue a more tangible reward.
It’s all part of what the New York Public Interest Research Group’s Blair Horner calls a “democracy death spiral.”
Says Horner: “When the public writes off its own government, that’s terrible for democracy. The politicians become only more responsive to interest groups.” As he focuses on the wrong pigs, Paterson is nowhere near breaking that cycle. Of course, the accidental governor took office under his own ethics cloud, related to suspicious hotel charges made on his state credit card.
All of which leave an opening for a law-and-order candidate to challenge Paterson in 2010 – not another Spitzer but someone with enough credibility and leadership to tear down the giant “for sale” sign hanging over our capital.
Jacob Gershman is a New York-based political reporter.
jacob.gershman@gmail.com