Everyone Else Gets Priced Out of the Game

“I’m sorry to bother you, Congressman, but I thought you might like to know that Theresa has been in the waiting room for almost two hours now, hoping to see you.”

“Theresa?”

“She’s the new staffer in our Scottsville office.”

“Oh yes, I remember now.  But I thought she was, uh ....”

“Yes sir, she’s on furlough while the government is shut down.  But she’s here.  She wouldn’t say what she wants, but she’s been sitting there since the office opened this morning.”

“Probably needs to borrow some money.  Oh well, send her in, Sally.  But interrupt us after fifteen minutes.  [Glances at his watch]  I still have half a dozen more donors to call before lunchtime.”

“Yes, sir.”  [Exits and sends Theresa in]

[Congressman rising]  “Theresa, it’s good to see you!  Sorry to have kept you waiting.  What can I do for you.”

“Well, sir, since I’ve been on furlough....”

“Yes, well, I’m sorry about that, but, you know, that’s how the shutdown works, and my hands were tied.  Listen, if you need a little something to tide you over....”  [Starts to reach for his billfold]

[Flushed with excitement]  “Oh, no sir!  I didn’t come to borrow money!  I had all this time while I’ve been out of work, and I thought, well, no sense feeling sorry for yourself, Theresa, you might as well make good use of these days that’ve been freed up.  So I’ve just been trying to understand this debt problem that’s been bothering you and your friends in Congress.  And I was surprised.  It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.  I think I’ve figured out how to do the right thing, put all of us back to work, and solve the debt crisis!  Isn’t that great!  I had to run up here and share it with you!” 

[Wary of her fervor]  “Uh, that sounds ... interesting, Theresa.  I’d be happy to take a look at it.  Just leave a copy with Sally.”

“Super.  I know you’re extra busy, and the paper’s a little long, so I put together this summary page here.  Let me give you a quick breakdown of how it would work.  It’ll only take a few minutes.”

[Congressman glances at his watch again, decides to humor her]  “Okay, five minutes.  Then I have a lot of calls to make.”

[She hands him a printed page.  He sits at his desk to look at it, and she goes around behind him and bends over his shoulder to point out various items as she explains them.]

“This first item here, offshore tax havens.  See this.  (Points]  A quarter of a trillion dollars, maybe more, that rich Americans have tucked away offshore to avoid taxes!  I mean, that’s not fair, you know?  Why should elderly people who have worked hard all their lives have to give up some of their Medicare and Social Security benefits while extremely wealthy people avoid paying their fair share of taxes? 

[Points to second item]  “And here.  Underpayment of taxes.  That’s another $450 billion--almost half a trillion dollars--where people--again, mostly those in the higher brackets--avoid paying their fair share, and stick people who are less able to pay with the bills.

[Moves down to next point]  “And look at this!  Tax credits, capital gains, exclusions, and other tax loopholes that almost look as if they’re designed to benefit those who need help the least!  Together they add up to another $1.25 trillion of tax income drained out of the system!

[Turns and looks at him directly, her face flushed with enthusiasm]  “Do you see it, sir?  We don’t have to inflict more pain on people who are already hurting, or cut into programs that benefit everyone!  With some relatively simple corrections that actually make the system more just, we can solve this fiscal crisis!”

[They both appear dazed for a moment by a vision of what-could-be.  Then the Congressman gives a shake, like a dog emerging from water.  Now he is embarrassed, remembering when he was once this excited about public service]  

“Uh, that’s all very interesting, Theresa, and in theory it looks as if it might work, but there are some, uh, practical considerations that make the kind of ‘simple corrections’ you refer to extremely difficult to implement.”

[She looks at him, more than a little hurt]  “What kind of ‘practical considerations,’ sir?”

[Even more embarrassed]  “Theresa, the average winner for a seat in the House spent $1,567,379 in his or her last campaign.  I know that to the last digit because that’s the minimum amount I have to raise to stay competitive and keep my seat.  The cost keeps going up, and I have to raise that money every two-year cycle.  Together, I and my colleagues in the House spent close to $700 million to win our races in 2012.”

[Puzzled]  “I’m afraid I’m not following you, sir.”

[Holding up his own sheet, of donors and potential donors]  “While you’ve been working on your list, I’ve been working on mine.   I get the money to stay competitive by continually calling people and asking them to contribute to my campaign.  Wealthy people.  My colleagues in the House and Senate all have their own lists.  They’re making their own calls.  To wealthy people.  Asking for their support.  All of the items you listed that need ‘simple corrections’  benefit wealthy people.  You see the problem.” 

[Stunned]  “I’m not sure, sir.  [Hesitantly]  I hope I’m mistaken, but you seem to be implying that you and your colleagues won’t deal with the debt crisis by doing something that’s obvious and fair because keeping your job is dependent on keeping the system unfair.  You’re implying that your primary obligation is to protect and serve the interests of the wealthiest people in the country.  But that can’t be right, can it?”

[Not responding directly to her question]  “Theresa, have you heard of Citizens United?”

“It sounds familiar, sir.”

“Well, it needs to be very familiar.  It’s no coincidence that most of these wealthy people we political candidates call happen to be major shareholders in, or direct, or manage large corporations.  Citizens United was a ruling by the Supreme Court that any limitation on corporate contributions to political action groups is now unconstitutional.  You think the campaign costs I just talked about are huge?  You haven’t seen anything yet.  They’re going to become monstrous!  Obscene!  And the more expensive campaigns become, the more it works to the advantage of the people and corporations who have the lion’s share of the money.  Everyone else gets priced out of the game.  

[Worked up now, forgetting himself]  “I’m sure the $700 million House members spent to win their seats seems like a lot of money to you.  It does to me.  Add in the $337 million the winners in the Senate spent.  But to major corporations, that kind of money is nothing!  Chicken feed!  They can buy Congress with their spare change!  ExxonMobil alone had a profit of $45 billion last year!  They could buy the entire Congress and still be almost $44 billion to the good.  Apple made almost $42 billion!  And the Supreme Court says let them spend whatever they want to buy election influence?  It’s insane!”  

[To his own amazement, the congressman begins to weep, overwhelmed by an unexpected surge of emotions that includes anger, sadness, frustration, and woundedness.  Theresa begins to weep as well, and reaches over to comfort him, just as Sally opens the door.]  “Excuse me, Congressman, but you have a... well, excuse me!   [Misreads situation, turns quickly and leaves, closing door behind her]

© Tony Russell, 2013

"Money As a Form of Speech"

One of the reasons why we get more pleasure from satire

than from a sermon, even when the satire is making exactly the same 

point as the sermon, is that we have an uncomfortable feeling that

the minister expects us to do something about it.

-- Leonard Feinberg

I had to get to the office early today to write up the local election report.  So I was surprised to see that my neighbor’s foreign exchange student, loaded with books, was already headed toward the university.  I pulled over and told him to hop in.

“We should probably introduce ourselves if we’re going to keep running into each other,” I said, sticking out my hand.  “I’m Ace.”

“My name is Aadil,” he said. “A-a-d-i-l.  I am pleased to formally make your acquaintance.”

“That’s an unusual name,” I said.  “Where are you from?”

“I am from Pakistan,” he replied.  “‘Aadil’ is a Muslim name meaning ‘just.’”

“Hope you’re not a terrorist,” I said, and then added, when he flinched, “Just joking.  What gets you out so early?  Got a big test coming up?

He shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “I stayed up late watching your election returns and had trouble sleeping afterwards, so I decided it would be more efficient to make use of the time and go study.”

“Well, what did you think of the election?” I asked.  “Watching democracy in action must have been an experience for you.  And now the people have spoken.”

He glanced at me.  “My country is a parliamentary democracy,” he said.  “But it is interesting that you phrase the results of your election in that manner.  Since your Supreme Court ruled in ‘Citizens United’ that money is a form of speech, I mean.”

“Why is that interesting?” I asked, curious.

He hesitated.  “This is your country,” he said.  “Please understand that I do not wish to offend.  I am simply trying to understand the way in which your electoral system functions.”

“Hey!  No skin off my ... nose,” I told him.  “Feel free.”

He looked baffled for an instant, and then said, “I am unable to follow the logic of the assertion that money is a form of speech, and that therefore people and corporations can spend unlimited amounts of money exercising their freedom to use this presumed form of speech.”

I glanced over at him.  “What’s your problem with the logic?” I asked.

“It’s simply an analogy, isn’t it?” he said.  “Money equals speech?  Dollars are the same as words and sentences?”

“Okay.”

“But if we pursue the analogy, it means that people who have no money have no speech, no voice,” he said.  “If one’s home is being foreclosed on, or if one has huge medical bills, or works for minimum wage, or is out of work, or any of a number of other possibilities, one is unable to ‘say’ anything, because one doesn’t have the money to ‘speak’ in the political arena.”

“Uh, I guess that makes sense,” I said.  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“And if one is very wealthy, or a giant corporation, one can ‘speak’ loudly and almost endlessly,” he went on.  “In fact, one can speak so long and so loudly that it becomes difficult for anyone else to even be heard--or only another person or corporation that also has an enormous amount of money.”

“I’m afraid that’s true,” I said, after thinking about it for a minute.

“So your court’s ruling would seem to sweep away any possibility of equality in the electoral process,” he said.  “One citizen can ‘say’ nothing, while a billionaire can ‘speak’ on and on and on.  And your elections are very expensive.  One has almost no hope of competing successfully without having a huge treasury to buy television time, buy radio time, hire consultants and pollers and staff, print brochures and bumper stickers, rent offices and computers and phone banks.”

“That’s true too,” I admitted.

“People of ordinary means therefore have little voice, and also appear to be largely excluded as candidates for major offices in your country,” he said.  “Or they are sponsored by the rich and indebted to them.”

“Politics has become a playground for the wealthy,” I conceded.

“And both political parties are indebted to their wealthy sponsors, meaning that what they both ‘hear’ is likely to be the voice of the ruling elite, not the voice of common citizens.” 

“‘Ruling elite’ sounds like un-American phrasing,” I said, “but I get what you’re saying.

“Perhaps ‘dollars are a form of votes’ would be a more accurate analogy than ‘money is a form of speech,’” he mused.  “And it contradicts the “one person, one vote” rule, because some people get millions of votes, while others get none.”

“It doesn’t always work out that way,” I pointed out.  “Sometimes the winner has spent less than the person who lost.”

“That happens,” he concurred.  “The one who spends the most generally wins, though not always.  Actually, the level of spending required to even compete acts as a screening device.  People who can’t raise large levels of money are simply eliminated.  Usually they don’t even make it into your primaries, because they get discouraged.  Or they lose in the primaries.  That means that many ordinary people can back a candidate who doesn’t stand a chance, while a single wealthy backer or industry can propel another candidate forward in the race.  In effect, many people’s ‘speech’ may mean nothing, while one person’s speech may lead to victory.”

“That’s the way it works,” I said slowly.

“The ‘Citizens United’ ruling appears to be the capstone on your election funding process,” he said.  “Maintaining the form of a democracy while functioning as a plutocracy.”

“Now wait a minute,” I said. “You’ve gone too far.”

He looked out the window.  “Oh, no,” he said.  “This is where I get out.  And thank you for the dialogue.  I am most grateful for the ride.”

© Tony Russell, 2010