Money in Politics and Democratic Reform

Speech by Bill Bradley to the
National Press Club, Washington, DC July 22, 1999

A couple of years ago, I was visiting Crystal City, Missouri, where I grew up, and I ran into my high school history teacher. He reminded me about a paper I had written for him about the 1896 presidential election. It was entitled, "Money is Power."

Back then, I had never heard of soft money or PACs but I evidently understood that money could overwhelm democracy.

The paper told the story of Mark Hanna of Ohio who virtually invented the modern political money game.

William McKinley was the Republican governor of Ohio, and Mark Hanna -- his campaign manager -- was determined to get him elected president. While the Democratic candidate, William Jennings Bryan, traveled the country taking controversial stands on issues like the troubles of farmers and women's suffrage, Hanna invented a different strategy. McKinley sat on his porch in Ohio, carefully spinning sound bites that positioned him as a "new Republican," while Hanna promised the financiers and titans of that era that their interests would be protected in the McKinley White House.

The money men responded. Wall Street firms each committed a percentage of their capital. John D. Rockefeller's Standard Oil gave a quarter of a million. In all, they raised $3.5 million -- which was real money a hundred years ago -- and they won.

But one loyal McKinley supporter was profoundly dismayed by the whole spectacle of money and promises. Theodore Roosevelt, a young police commissioner in New York, had campaigned for McKinley in 1896. But after the race, he was appalled by the blatant selling of the office and complained that "Hanna has advertised McKinley as if he were a patent medicine."

Later, Roosevelt would become the only president in the Twentieth Century who was truly a leader in an effort to limit the influence of money on democracy. In 1907, he signed into law the first restrictions on campaign finance.

In doing that paper, I sensed that money was to politics as acid is to cloth -- eating away at the fabric of democracy. Today, when $3.5 million might be the cost of a single congressional race, there is no doubt that money is again the decisive power in our elections.

I don't think it has to be that way for our country. Democracy doesn't have to be a commodity that is bought and sold.

Most politicians enter politics to do good -- not to constantly ask people for money. I am running for President because I want an American democracy that invests in the future of its children by lifting them out of poverty and offering every child -- every child -- a decent education. I want more Americans to have good healthcare. I want to heal the racial divide that shortcircuits our national potential. I want to be the good steward of a good economy in which working Americans of all incomes can become financially secure.

But I know to achieve any of these things, we need a healthy democratic process. A process in which everyone's voice can be heard, where dissent is respected, and candidates run on the strength of their ideas -- not the weight of their wallets.

I don't believe politics is a dirty word. I believe it's a noble profession. It's the only way to get things done in a democracy. It's how we created Social Security and Medicare. It's the way we lit the path toward civil rights. It's how we build highways and schools and a better life for all of us. At its best, politics can unify people around a vision or an aspiration that none of us can reach by ourselves.

The lifeblood of democracy and politics is trust. Where other forms of government depend on fear or ideology, only democracy rests on our ability to put our trust in our neighbors and in ourselves. It asks each of us to do so; we have to believe that others will do the same, and that the system that represents us does so fairly and responsively.

Democracy is the most powerful political idea ever born on this planet. But, because it depends on trust it is also the most fragile. In 1958, 73 percent of the American people said they trusted the government to do what is right "most of the time." Today, that figure is 29%.

Trust has been betrayed and attacked from many fronts. Dishonesty is part of it. Every little lie erodes trust invisibly, like acid rain. Politicians who talk and promise -- rather than listen and do -- contribute to it as well. Trust is also threatened by politics that divide us rather than bring us together, for example, the scapegoating of immigrants or the stigmatizing of racial minorities. And trust can be destroyed by the way we talk about each other: remember Newt Gingrich's list of words that he advised candidates to use in describing their opponents? "Sick," "Pathetic," "Traitors." The consequences of such words linger years after the campaigns are forgotten.

But nothing breaks down trust in democracy as powerfully and surely as money.

The simplest story of our republic is about people speaking to their representatives, and their representatives listening to their voices, to their concerns, to their hopes, and to their fears.

Big money gets in the way of that. It is like a great stone wall that comes between the people and their representatives. A great wall that prevents each from hearing the other. A great wall that muffles the sounds of the people.

At the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, people wedge small notes into the stones, hoping God will hear their prayers. I trust that He does, but here in Washington, the notes and prayers of the people are not always heard or answered because the great wall of money gets in the way.

Ever wonder why Congress seems so eager and determined to act on issues like accelerated depreciation? Or why it seems so paralyzed and indifferent when it comes to child poverty or the economic anxieties of Americans who aren't wealthy? Or why the HMO Bill of Rights debate ends up as it did, with insurance companies the winners?

I served on the Finance Committee for eighteen years. Whenever we considered a big tax bill, the room would be full -- standing room only -- and the hall outside would be lined with lobbyists, each trying to get a provision in the tax bill that would reduce his or her clients' taxes while leaving the rest of us paying higher taxes. There were billions of dollars at stake and cell phones were buzzing. The next day the Finance Committee would consider measures to reduce child poverty. Millions of dollars would be at stake. The lobbyists would be gone. The room mostly empty.

At times, money does more than shape the agenda. It has specific consequences that run counter to the public good. Take guns, for example. Thirteen children in America are killed every day by guns. Eighty-five percent of Americans favor mandatory registration of handguns. But Congress seems to find any excuse not to do something about it, even going so far as to pass bills by day and then quietly kill them by night. Does this make sense? Does it make more sense when you learn that the National Rifle Association gave 1.7 million dollars to congressional Republicans and $283,000 to Democrats?

Money doesn't always have such a direct effect. But too often it does. If one person, one vote is the essential equation of our democracy, money skews that simple logic, for money makes one person's vote more important than another.

Remember the old expression, I want to put my two cents worth in? The idea was that even though it was just two cents, your idea mattered. It was worth something. Today your two cents worth is often just worth -- two cents.

In a curious way, money in politics turns everyone into an interest group. You're either, for example, a gun owner or a trial lawyer or a tobacco company, each with its own fundraising machine. Or, you're in the great ranks of the non-givers, without a voice. One of the consequences of this is that when voters don't get the results they wanted they feel cheated and ignored. When you believe that influence drives the process, and you don't win, you believe someone else's influence has trumped yours and your trust in your government diminishes. For many Americans, democracy is like a broken thermostat; they turn the dial but nothing happens.

So what do we have to do in order to restore trust in our democracy? Our goal should be to make money much less important, and make ideas, character, and experience count for much more. How do we do this?

First, we need to change the rules of the campaign finance system. For almost a century, since Teddy Roosevelt, corporations have been prohibited from giving money to politics and since Watergate, for the last quarter century, individuals have been held to reasonable limits, currently $1000 per candidate. Money started pouring through the underground channel of "soft money," where there are no limits at all.

No reform of the regulated, above ground system will matter until we close down this murky, unregulated, underground system. If trends of the last four years continue, the 2000 election will see nearly three-quarters of a billion dollars move through the soft money loophole.

That's about as much as was raised through the entire normal system for all congressional races put together in 1998.

Therefore, the top priority must be to prohibit soft money contributions to national party committees and to ban state committees from spending their soft money to affect federal elections. Such actions are already supported by a majority of the House and Senate. All it takes is committed leadership and an insistent public and then the soft money ban in the McCain-Feingold bill will become law.

I believe leaders have an obligation to obey both the letter and spirit of the law. But I also think that we have an opportunity to look beyond the law to what is right. Governor Bush and Vice President Gore have both said they support changing the soft money system. However, both reportedly have directed their top fundraisers to begin raising soft money for the general election. But before the money machines start humming, let's pause and think about a better way. Let me issue a challenge: if I am the presidential nominee of the Democratic Party, the first thing I will do is to invite the Republican nominee to join me in a compact. We will each direct our parties not to raise or spend soft money in the general election on, for example, such matters as issue advertising. A genuine commitment to reform takes two farsighted leaders, not just one.

After bringing the underground economy under control, the first goal of a reform system is that the public should be able to hear from all viable candidates. A second goal should be to encourage the fullest participation of voters.

To reach the first goal, we need to state clearly that money must come from the public, and be accountable to the public.

When I say that money must come from the public, I mean that there should be only two sources of money.

One is from individuals -- limited and instantly reported.

The second source -- the public.

Today, as many as twenty-four states and a few cities are in the midst of a great experiment in public financing of political campaigns. These experiments contribute to my own ideas about campaign finance reform.

The results are already coming in for one type of experiment -- partial public financing. In New York City, for example, a new law went into effect last year that provides a four-to-one match on any contribution of less than $250, but only for candidates who adhere to spending limits. That means that a modest contribution from a working family can be as valuable as $1000 from a wealthier person. In the first election held under this system, more than five times as many people contributed, and the average contribution was $135.

In Maine, Massachusetts, Vermont, and Arizona voluntary full public financing of elections has become law. The supporters of this effort put forward a set of clear principles: that democracy is a public responsibility; that all private money is potentially corrupting; and that the public should be willing to provide all the resources that candidates need to be heard. Everywhere that voters have been offered those principles, they have voted for them, both in liberal and conservative states. It's an elegant, principled idea. And it has powered a meaningful citizens' movement to change the role of money in politics.

In my own state of New Jersey, we've had public financing of gubernatorial elections for over 20 years. Candidates are limited in the amount of money they spend during the primary, and the two party nominees each spend their time communicating with voters, not just donors. The result? Twenty years of elections where the contests are spirited, but money has never made the difference.

A Bradley Administration will propose a two-to-one match for contributions of $250 or less in federal congressional primaries, and public financing for general elections. In exchange candidates would limit their total expenditures in both primary and general elections. And for those who say it can't be done, that this kind of reform is too big, let me say one thing: Don’t underestimate the people. Or for that matter don't underestimate the politicians. Today political leaders with the best of intentions find themselves spending the better part of too many days figuring out how to have enough money to be heard. Like Ross Perot said, "good people caught in a bad system." Public financing gives them a way out -- a way to once again concentrate fully on the issues and the people.

Many argue that real reform is futile, because the wealthy and powerful will always seek ways to evade all limits. I don't believe that's true. For example, the Committee for Economic Development, business leaders from companies such as GE, Goldman Sachs and Allied Signal who have recently come out strongly for campaign finance reform, including partial public financing of campaigns. They said, "a well functioning business system will not remain viable in an environment of real or perceived corruption, which will corrode confidence in government and business. We wish to compete in the marketplace not in the political arena." And they are not alone.

As long as Americans get most of their information from television -- another way to reduce the role of money in politics is by offering free time to candidates. Television broadcasters have been granted one of the most valuable public trusts in the history of our nation. It's asset value is as much a windfall as giving away Yellowstone National Park to timber companies for free. With the new digital spectrum, it could be worth 20 or 30 billion dollars. With a public trust like that comes public obligations, and no obligation is greater than that of citizenship.

There are many ways that free time could be made available in the 60 days before an election. To do it properly will require a sensitivity to the local setting. A one size fits all approach may not be appropriate. There could be multiple formats. The important thing though is the principle and the commitment. A part of any plan settled on, should be that free time is available only to those who choose to accept public financing with its limitation on total expenditures.

But television's dominance of political communications may be coming to an end. Our assumptions about money and trust change when the Internet takes over. For one thing, unlike TV, it's not expensive. For another, unlike TV, it's not exclusive -- my web site billbradley.com doesn't push aside anyone else's. Finally, it's interactive. On systems like the Democracy Network, you can talk both to candidates and to your neighbors. Most importantly, the Internet provides as much or as little information as a citizen needs. People who come to my web site can look at a 30-second video clip if that's all they want, or they can read my speeches and press releases. It puts citizens back in control.

That brings us to the question of citizens. In 1996 only 54% of the eligible voters actually cast their vote for President of the United States. That means roughly 25% of the voters elected Bill Clinton President. In 1998 participation in congressional elections dropped to 37%. Is it any wonder that people don't feel Congress or the government reflects them? But it is a two-way street. Only if Citizens vote, can they take ownership of their government. Sadly, the citizens who vote least -- the young, the poor and minorities voters -- are those who are often ignored by the national government. A philosopher I like once said, "Individual rights are a protection from society but for those rights to have any meaning requires one to fulfill your obligation to society." Voting is the first obligation. Therefore, the goal of democratic reform must not be limited to shutting down sources of money -- the goal must be to open up the process, remove the barriers that limit participation and most important, give people substantial reasons why their votes count.

For example, right now, people who are willing to host fundraising or other campaign events in their own home, are allowed to exceed the contribution limits by specific amount when paying for event catering and invitations. But there is no similar participation exemption for grassroots activity -- you can not print your own bumper stickers, or brochures, or spend money for grassroots activities the same way you're allowed to spend money to raise money. I propose broadening the exemption to include grassroots political activity, so that campaigns don't have to tell interested, engaged citizens that they can't do anything.

Then there's voter registration. To become a naturalized citizen of the United States, you have to take a test. One question on the test is, "What is the most important right granted to American citizens?" We all might have different answers -- some might say it's the right to free speech or to worship as you please -- but the "correct" answer on the test is, "the right to vote." If it's the most important right, why is it the only right that you have to register in advance before you can use it? You don't have to register to contribute money to campaigns. You don't have to register to speak. You no longer even have to register for jury duty. Why do you still have to register in advance to vote?

I spent many years in the Senate working with other Senators to make it easier to register to vote. The motor voter law, for example, took years to pass but has been successful. But now I believe we were starting from the wrong premise.

Why did we accept the idea that people should go through a hoop in order to exercise the most important right of a citizen? We should have seen advance voter registration for what it really is: the last barrier in the long row of barriers blocking full participation. We knocked the others over one by one: people without property couldn't vote -- changed. African-Americans couldn't vote -- changed. Women couldn't vote -- changed. Eighteen year-olds couldn't vote -- changed.

In an age of computers, anyone should be able to walk into a voting place, demonstrate proof of identity, and cast a vote that very day. In Minnesota, one in six votes are cast by people who registered on Election Day. Then, at the end of the day, to prevent fraud, the system should take thirty minutes to ensure that the same person didn't try to vote at another place. If a name popped up twice, both votes would be disqualified. No one should ever be told that, just because they didn't get interested in the election until November, they're not entitled to vote.

I will propose removing these barriers with national same day registration. I will also propose to make voting even easier by allowing people to vote by mail as they do in Oregon. Finally, to make voting the fundamental right that it is, I will propose a Voting Leave law requiring employers to give employees a minimum two hours off in order to vote.

Let's step back for a second and imagine a country in which everyone assumes that they will vote on Election Day. Imagine elections in which presidential candidates know they have to speak to everyone, not just 54% of the population.

Imagine campaigns in which candidates know that, even if they can't raise a lot of money, they will at least have their 10 or 15 opportunities to speak to voters on television.

Imagine campaigns that know that money helps, but also know that they can't shut their opponents out completely or deceive people, because opponents have free access to airwaves and citizens through the Internet will be better informed.

Imagine campaigns that raise the money they need by reaching out to thousands of people who can spare $100, instead of courting a few dozen millionaires who can give big amounts of soft money.

Now imagine what happens when that same country sets to work on the problems it faces. Imagine what happens when Congressmen and Congresswomen who have been elected by most of the citizens, not just 37% of them, sit down to work on questions like child poverty and improving education.

Imagine when elected officials who know that the voters are knowledgeable, think about what should be on the congressional agenda -- a narrow issue affecting a few wealthy companies -- or a big issue like providing health insurance for everyone.

Imagine what happens when elected officials feel that voters have begun to trust democracy again. Imagine the responsibility they will feel to preserve that trust and not to betray it.

It's a world that's as different from the politics of the 1990s as it is from the election of 1896. But if we can see it from here, we can reach it.

Yours Truly


Return to Stephen's Coffee Home Page