(5 of 6)
The public may be paying for the S & L fraud well into the next century. Even so, it seems unable to make the connection between such outrages and a permanent government that too often is up for sale to private interests. The notion that public service might require some sacrifice has become a quaint relic. Working in government, instead, has come to be seen as a way to enrich ! oneself. Public officials remain endlessly capable of rationalizing the trading of their office for private gain: we don't get paid enough; everybody does it; we could make much more in the private sector.
Oddly enough, though, few legislators voluntarily leave for private life. Congressmen routinely run for re-election; Capitol Hill salaries are no secret to politicians who spend years -- and a great deal of money -- trying to get into the club. What goes unmentioned in all the caterwauling about the sacrifices of public service is the joy it offers. Public officials lead interesting lives: they all have the opportunity to make a difference; some even make history. Compared with underappreciated professions like teaching and nursing, where doing well takes a backseat to doing good, Congressmen are handsomely paid. The days of politicians like Lyndon Johnson amassing a fortune may be over, but few people leave public service poorer than when they entered it.
It does not follow, however, that public servants should be paid a pittance. Yet right now the public seems to take the attitude that giving legislators money only encourages them. In a poll last week for TIME/CNN, more than 55% of 506 people surveyed did not feel that Congressmen should be required to give up all outside income, nor that they should get a raise in exchange for it.
The 51% increase proposed last January may have seemed like a pay grab, with elected officials trying to hide behind the judges and bureaucrats who would have received comparable raises and who are not in such bad odor with the public. But a reasonable pay raise keyed to automatic cost of living increases -- in exchange for a total loophole-proof ban on honorariums, gifts and free trips -- looks like a bargain when put up against, say, the average $14 billion annual cost of the S & L bailout. Some degree of public financing of campaigns might also help cut the umbilical cord between Congress and special interests, but last year campaign-reform efforts bogged down in partisan fighting and constitutional questions. This year the issue is hopelessly deadlocked.
In the 15 years since the Watergate scandal, repeated efforts at reform have failed because they do not reach the systemic problem. Public officials are now required to file endless financial-disclosure reports, limit the private contributions they accept and wait longer and longer periods of time before they are allowed to lobby their former colleagues. But disclosure works for Congress only if constituents have the opportunity to pore through the voluminous reports and then vote based on what they find there. This welter of regulations has done almost nothing to choke off the cash flow.
