
Sometimes you have to feel sorry for mere politicians.
The media routinely assail elected officials for indecisiveness, not to mention bad decisions they make. But then the same media attack elected officials, in effect, for trying to do their jobs at all. The pretense that all politics must be conducted in a fish bowl is behind a category of charges that relate to the "process" of representative government.
This latter kind of attack is sometimes launched in the name of the "spirit, if not the letter" of the kinds of reforms enacted around the country in the early 1970s under the rubric of "open meetings laws."
I was part of that era's reform movement. I remember well the reasons for it. And I know well that it attempted to avoid limiting the legitimate private discussions of elected officials. Rather, the law was about preventing corruption and making sure that citizens could be heard on substantial public decisions. Specifically, such laws as were passed in Washington State in 1971 (The Open Public Meetings Act) to stop the practice in elected bodies of making tough decisions in "executive sessions" outside public scrutiny.
Such laws were prudent, not draconian. For example, personnel decisions were usually exempted to keep employee personalities out of invidious public consideration.
What we were after, instead, was preventing old fashioned corruption, favor-buying and self-dealing. We had seen cases, for example, where the Seattle City Council's entire membership was treated to trips out of town at lobbyists' expense to consider some pending piece of legislation. In one case, nearly the whole Council was flown down to San Francisco to see some public developments there and to lobby the Council against enacting a new historic district ordinance for Pioneer Square. Happily, in that case, word of the trip leaked out and the Council members were met in San Francisco by local historic preservationists--who deflected them to see successful historic districts in that town. The Council came home actually persuaded against the position of the group that had taken it down there.
But, more often, the special trips engineered by lobbyists--one Councilman dubbed them "super-freers"--and the executive sessions did the work of their agents. The public wasn't consulted.
That was the kind of thing the Act was designed to stop. And, along with the new public disclosure act limiting campaign donations and personal gifts, such acts did stop much mischief, not only in Washington State, but in similar circumstances nationally.
Unfortunately, open meetings laws sometimes are used now as a form of special pleading for news hungry media with nothing better to write about and a Pecksniffian concept of virtue.
It is happening just now in Seattle where The Seattle Times has made a front page and editorial page issue out of unofficial discussions that Seattle City Council members have had with one another and the Mayor's staff about the city budget. Getting into the act is the City Attorney and a representative of the Attorney General's office. The latter worthies reportedly are "disturbed."
The problem, at least as reported in The Times, is that four of the nine City Council members have met in private to talk about the budget. But, so what? The law specifies that "meetings" are to be conducted in public, but the rule only applies to meetings of a majority of a legislative body, not a minority. Four at a time is a minority.
Think about this. If four of nine members shouldn't talk together informally about city issues, how about three members? Can they talk together without a public notice and an invitation to media? How about two? Can one Council member talk with another without becoming a target for a media expose?
The claim that the "spirit" of the law is violated if four of nine members sit down together is not only wrong historically, but potentially damaging to true good government. My Discovery colleague (and fellow former fellow City Councilman) John Miller was one of the citizen leaders in the Coalition for Open Public Government that first helped draft the Act. John recalls the situation as I do: the purpose of the Act was not to prevent legislators from private discussions on policy.
Miller, who later served as a Congressman from Seattle and a U.S. Ambassador At-Large on Human Trafficking issues, was a stickler on the City Council for firm enforcement of the Open Meetings law.
I was, too. My own first action as a new member of the Seattle City Council in December, 1971--assigned at once to chair the notorious Licenses Committee-- was to end the practice of holding what you might call pre-committee committee meetings where the real decisions were made behind the scenes. The opportunities to do damage or benefit to an applicant for a night club or movie theater license, for example, were plentiful when the actual decisions were agreed to before the public meeting. There had been serious scandals related to this practice--understandably. Accordingly, the pre-committee committee meetings ended at once. (We later turned the whole licenses procedure over to an independent city official.)
But the object was reform, not grandstanding. In those days when the Act was brand new we certainly had private discussions and briefings for two, three and four Council members to talk about any number of issues--including the budget. Yes, members might come to personal decisions about subjects they discussed in private, but those decisions carried no weight and were not covered by the Act, for the plain reason that "reform" has to have some limits. Indeed, if Council members had not been free to discuss city business informally in small groups, the Council--like every legislative body since at least the Continental Congress--would have ground to a halt.
It's droll that Seattle City Council Member Jean Godden has been singled out for rebuke in the press, the idea being that as a former journalist she should know better. It has not occurred to Ms Godden's former colleagues, apparently, that she might have learned anything in office.
The problems in legislative leadership in all levels today have almost nothing to do with supposed violations of the Open Public Meetings Act. Memo to the press and the politicians alike, therefore: Don't let "reform" become an excuse for hobbling effective elected representation. It may not be as dangerous to the practice of republican democracy as old fashioned corruption, but it sometimes it can come close.