I hope we shall crush in its birth the aristocracy of our monied corporations which dare already to challenge our government to a trial by strength, and bid defiance to the laws of our country. – Thomas Jefferson
As a citizen of the United States, there is no right more
sacrosanct than the right to vote and participate equally in the political
process. We live in a constitutional democracy, which guarantees the principle
of one person, one vote. I may not have money or fame, but I do have a vote,
and my vote counts exactly the same as the vote cast by a billionaire or a
Hollywood star.
And yet, it is an accepted fact of American life that, in
politics as in business, money reigns supreme. Money is needed to finance
political campaigns; to pay for television and radio ads, brochures and campaign literature, and full-time staff. According to the Center for Responsive
Politics, the average cost in 2012 of winning a seat in the House was $1.6 million; in the Senate, nearly $12 million. In American
politics, some voters are more equal than others. Those with money to help
finance campaigns are more highly valued by candidates for public office than
those without money. Although rarely spoken in polite company, the thought of
virtually every political candidate is: “I want your vote, but what I really
need is your money.”
It is admittedly an imperfect system. Politics is messy, and
dirty, and historically blemished by stories of tainted cash in burlap sacks
and backroom deals. It is because of the pervasive influence of money that the
American political system requires public scrutiny and transparency. It
is why, in 1907, Teddy Roosevelt called for public
financing of political elections and a ban on corporate money in politics. And it is why, for the past forty years, in
the aftermath of Watergate, the public has sought and Congress has imposed
limits on the amount of money an individual may lawfully contribute to a
candidate or party committee.
Campaign finance laws are intended to uphold the principle
of political equality, which is fundamental to a fair and open democracy. While
people are free to contribute to candidates of their choice, election laws restrict
how much money any one person can give. Thus, federal law caps the amount an
individual may give directly to a political candidate ($5,200 per two-year
election cycle) or to a series of candidates and political party committees
combined ($123,200). The purpose of the law is to prevent any one person from
having undue influence on the official duties of our elected leaders.
Apparently, the five conservative justices on the United States
Supreme Court see it differently. Earlier this month, in McCutcheon v. Federal
Election Commission, the Supreme Court in a 5-4 decision overturned 40 years of
law and precedent, ruling that the ($123,200) limits on the aggregate amount an
individual can give to a series of political candidates or party committees is
unconstitutional. Writing for the majority, Chief Justice John Roberts declared
that a campaign donation is the equivalent of political speech protected by the
First Amendment; and that the will of the people as reflected in campaign
finance laws and other collective concepts of the public good are outweighed by
an individual’s right to engage in this financial form of political “speech.” Since
money is the equivalent of speech, according to Roberts, contributing money to
a political campaign is no different than writing an op-ed on behalf of your
favorite candidate or putting up a lawn sign.
Moreover, said the Court, the only interest the government
has in restricting such financial “speech” is in preventing quid pro quo
corruption. And, according to Roberts, “Spending large sums of money in connection
with elections, but not in connection with an effort to control the exercise of
an officeholder’s official duties, does not give rise to quid pro quo
corruption. Nor does the possibility that an individual who spends large sums
may garner ‘influence over or access to’ elected officials of political
parties.” Really?
It seems that, to Roberts at least, so long as the robber
barons are not showing up in the halls of Congress with briefcases full of money and explicitly demanding that Senators and House members vote a certain way on
pending legislation, there is by definition no corruption, or even the
appearance of corruption, in the political sphere. It is a disingenuously
narrow and naïve view of corruption. Bribery laws, which already
prohibit the quid pro quo corruption to which Roberts refers, address only the
most blatant attempts to influence political action. But as Congress and many state
legislatures have recognized for decades, the public’s concern with political
corruption is far more comprehensive and realistic than the Court’s restrictive
parameters.
As Justice Stephen Breyer noted in a compelling and well-articulated
dissent, the Roberts opinion “misconstrues the nature of the competing constitutional
interests at stake” and “understates the importance of protecting the political
integrity of our governmental institutions.” Along with the 2010
decision in Citizens United – which held that corporations and unions may
contribute unlimited amounts to political campaigns (Hey, it’s only fair.
Corporations are people too. They have
rights!) – the Roberts Court has eviscerated decades of campaign finance law and
efforts to instill integrity into the political process. As noted by Justice
Breyer, these decisions have left us with a system “incapable of dealing with
the grave problems of democratic legitimacy that [campaign finance] laws were
intended to resolve.”
The history of campaign finance reform in this country has
been an uphill effort to maintain the integrity of the political process. Clean
government, public transparency, preventing undue influence by wealthy
corporations and billionaires lies at the heart of the First Amendment itself.
The First Amendment protects not only the right of the individual to engage in
political speech – to advocate a cause, write an editorial, protest a perceived
injustice, petition the government for a redress of grievances – but also the
public’s right to preserve the democratic order. “Where enough money calls the tune,”
wrote Justice Breyer, “the general public will not be heard.” And when a few
large donations are allowed to drown out the voices of the many – when “elected
officials are influenced to act contrary to their obligations of office by the
prospect of . . . infusions of money into their campaigns” – the political
process is subverted.
Too much money in politics creates cynicism, and a cynical
public soon loses interest in political participation. Unlimited money corrupts
democracy, allowing a small group of political plutocrats to influence who runs
for office, who gets elected, and what laws are passed. But according to Chief
Justice Roberts, political money is no different than speech. To Roberts, everyone
has the same right to contribute as everyone else. That the rich can exercise
this right and the poor cannot, is simply the way of the world.
The problem with equating money with speech is that, unlike
casting a vote and advocating a cause, activities for which everyone has an equal opportunity to participate, those with money have unequal and privileged access to the
halls of power. Everyone has an equal vote to bargain with in the political
arena. Only the very wealthy have the financial bargaining power to influence
political results. It is an unequal playing field. If unlimited money does not
directly corrupt the process, it nevertheless distorts it.
In McConnell v. FEC, a case decided in 2003 whose continued
validity is now in doubt after McCutcheon and Citizens United, the Rehnquist Court
(not exactly a bastion of liberalism) upheld
the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (also known as the “McCain-Feingold
law”), which set limits on “soft money” contributions to political parties. Based
on an extensive record developed in the trial court, the Supreme Court in McConnell
found that the soft money limits were designed to prevent the pernicious
influence of money in politics and the privileged access to elected officials
that such money provides. The record in that case showed that the enormous soft
money contributions at stake, which ranged from $1 million to $5 million among
the largest donors, while not resulting in quid pro quo corruption, allowed
wealthy contributors disproportionate access to lawmakers and, thus, the
ability to influence legislation.
The record developed in McConnell showed an indisputable
link between generous political donations and direct access to members of
Congress. As former Senator Paul Simon (D – IL) testified: “Because few people
can afford to give over $20,000 or $25,000 to a party committee, those people
who can will receive substantially better access to elected federal leaders
than people who can only afford smaller contributions or cannot afford to make
any contributions. When you increase the amount that people are allowed to
give, or let people give without limit to the parties, you increase the danger
of unfair access.” Similarly, Senator John McCain (R-AZ) noted: “At a minimum,
large soft money donations purchase an opportunity for the donors to make their
case to elected officials . . . in a way average citizens cannot.”
Americans tolerate a large degree of inequality in the
economic sphere because we believe it enhances productivity, entrepreneurial
ingenuity, and investment. In theory at least, our economic system rewards
those who work harder and produce more things of value, and gives everyone an
equal opportunity to succeed. This often is untrue in practice, of course, as
luck and inheritance and disproportionate opportunities for some skew the
system. But while Americans tolerate a great deal of economic inequality, in
the political sphere a more level playing field is expected.
The wealthy do not generally give to candidates out of an
altruistic desire to participate in the political process. They do so because
they expect a return on their investment. It is a problem that infects both
major political parties. As shown by a landmark study conducted in 2012 by
Princeton University political scientist Martin Gilens (Affluence and Influence
(Princeton University Press, 2014)), government responsiveness strongly favors
the most affluent, while average Americans have almost no influence on policy.
But none of this apparently matters to Chief Justice
Roberts. So long as no outright bribery can be proven, wealthy
contributors are permitted to participate disproportionately in the political
process, not only with their voices and pens, but with their money.
Money is speech, after all.
Perhaps the Chief Justice and his four conservative brethren
on the Supreme Court should listen to one of their fellow Republicans who
served with distinction for many years in the United States Senate. As former
Senator Alan Simpson (R-WY) testified during the McConnell case, “Who,
after all, can seriously contend that a $100,000 donation does not alter the
way one thinks about – and quite possibly votes on – an issue? . . . When you
don’t pay the piper that finances your campaigns, you will never get any more
money from that piper. Since money is the mother’s milk of politics, you never
want to be in that situation.”
When Chief Justice Roberts was named to the Supreme Court in
2005, he promised to uphold the principles of judicial restraint and respect
for the democratic process. But the campaign finance rulings of the Roberts Court are examples of
judicial activism at its worst. McCutcheon and Citizens United have
determinedly obliterated past judicial rulings and decades of campaign
finance laws passed by bipartisan coalitions of Congress under Republican and
Democratic administrations. Unlike Roberts and his conservative brethren on the
Court, these politicians understand precisely how money in politics actually
works, and just how unfair and inherently corrupt is a political system that
equates unlimited money with mere speech.
"Money talks and bullshit walks," declared former Pennsylvania Representative Michael Myers during the Abscam scandal in 1979 when he was videotaped accepting $50,000 from an undercover FBI agent. It is a sentiment now endorsed by the U.S. Supreme Court. Teddy Roosevelt is rolling in his grave.
"Money talks and bullshit walks," declared former Pennsylvania Representative Michael Myers during the Abscam scandal in 1979 when he was videotaped accepting $50,000 from an undercover FBI agent. It is a sentiment now endorsed by the U.S. Supreme Court. Teddy Roosevelt is rolling in his grave.