Thursday, November 20, 2003
Parliament of Hooters
Before the British Parliamentary system was reformed in the middle of the 19th century, voting districts for the House of Commons were very uneven. Huge and growing industrial cities like Liverpool and Birmingham had no representatives in the Commons, while many smaller boroughs--some with as few as two voters--did. Irish Catholics were not represented at all, and had fewer legal rights than Protestants. In 1792, during the debate over so-called Catholic Emancipation (giving them the same rights as Protestants), British statesman Edmund Burke argued that it wasn't so terrible that some voters did not have the right to elect a representative directly. They benefited from "virtual representation"--those elected to Parliament represented not only their districts, but the interests of the citizenry as a whole: "Virtual representation is that in which there is a communion of interests and a sympathy in feelings and desires between those who act in the name of any description of people and the people in whose name they act, though the trustees are not actually chosen by them."
Burke's idea--although anti-democratic at its heart--is one on which I have lectured my U.S. senators, Russ Feingold and Herb Kohl. Surely these two Democrats represent not only those of us who elected them, but they virtually represent other Democrats in other places who are part of the same "communion of interests," but who are not served by a Democratic representative.
I was reminded of this again today when I heard that Senate minority leader Tom Daschle of South Dakota is going to vote to limit debate on the energy bill, thus paving the way for its apparent passage later this week. Daschle says that the bill's doubling of ethanol production is what swayed him to vote yes. South Dakota is a major corn producer, and he's up for reelection next year. So he's doing right by his constituents at home--and wrong by those he represents virtually elsewhere in the country. The energy bill is so egregiously bad that it's hard to imagine any tradeoff being worth it. The communion of interests likely to be harmed by the bill across the country is far greater than the communion of interests in South Dakota that would benefit from it. Yet it put Daschle in a hell of a spot, one familiar to Democrats--to explain a vote against the bill would require many words, but to bash him for it, his Republican opponent would need only say, "Daschle voted against doubling ethanol production." And so Daschle is voting to help pass the bill.
This is how business gets done in our Congress, however. Things get added to bills to win the support of individual legislators--a nuke plant for Idaho, a Home Depot subsidy for Georgia, a Hooter's restaurant for Shreveport, Louisiana. The idea that federal tax dollars should probably not be spent to make it possible for 40-something businessmen to be served lunch by large-breasted blondes in tight shorts doesn't really figure into the debate. In a Congress where the idea of virtual representation held more sway, perhaps it might.
Ultimately, Daschle made a defensible political choice that will help save his skin come 2004. But it was representation, not leadership. At the very least, leadership in this case would have required a better show of the difficulty inherent in his choice, instead of him going so quietly. Indeed, there's another way to view Daschle's decision: as another symptom of his general timidity. Try to imagine the shoe on the other foot--Democrats forcing through a bill they wrote in secret with no input from the other party--and then imagine Bill Frist or Trent Lott rolling over in the same way. It's possible, as those gentlemen are no less immune to either the realities of elective politics or the power of pork--but it doesn't seem nearly as likely. Republicans fight better than Democrats--you can bet that they would have at least gotten a few licks in before bowing to the inevitable, thus showing the Republican base that they're with 'em. And until Democrats develop a similar taste for similar licks, we're going to get rolled by the Republicans again and again, and gain nothing.
Before the British Parliamentary system was reformed in the middle of the 19th century, voting districts for the House of Commons were very uneven. Huge and growing industrial cities like Liverpool and Birmingham had no representatives in the Commons, while many smaller boroughs--some with as few as two voters--did. Irish Catholics were not represented at all, and had fewer legal rights than Protestants. In 1792, during the debate over so-called Catholic Emancipation (giving them the same rights as Protestants), British statesman Edmund Burke argued that it wasn't so terrible that some voters did not have the right to elect a representative directly. They benefited from "virtual representation"--those elected to Parliament represented not only their districts, but the interests of the citizenry as a whole: "Virtual representation is that in which there is a communion of interests and a sympathy in feelings and desires between those who act in the name of any description of people and the people in whose name they act, though the trustees are not actually chosen by them."
Burke's idea--although anti-democratic at its heart--is one on which I have lectured my U.S. senators, Russ Feingold and Herb Kohl. Surely these two Democrats represent not only those of us who elected them, but they virtually represent other Democrats in other places who are part of the same "communion of interests," but who are not served by a Democratic representative.
I was reminded of this again today when I heard that Senate minority leader Tom Daschle of South Dakota is going to vote to limit debate on the energy bill, thus paving the way for its apparent passage later this week. Daschle says that the bill's doubling of ethanol production is what swayed him to vote yes. South Dakota is a major corn producer, and he's up for reelection next year. So he's doing right by his constituents at home--and wrong by those he represents virtually elsewhere in the country. The energy bill is so egregiously bad that it's hard to imagine any tradeoff being worth it. The communion of interests likely to be harmed by the bill across the country is far greater than the communion of interests in South Dakota that would benefit from it. Yet it put Daschle in a hell of a spot, one familiar to Democrats--to explain a vote against the bill would require many words, but to bash him for it, his Republican opponent would need only say, "Daschle voted against doubling ethanol production." And so Daschle is voting to help pass the bill.
This is how business gets done in our Congress, however. Things get added to bills to win the support of individual legislators--a nuke plant for Idaho, a Home Depot subsidy for Georgia, a Hooter's restaurant for Shreveport, Louisiana. The idea that federal tax dollars should probably not be spent to make it possible for 40-something businessmen to be served lunch by large-breasted blondes in tight shorts doesn't really figure into the debate. In a Congress where the idea of virtual representation held more sway, perhaps it might.
Ultimately, Daschle made a defensible political choice that will help save his skin come 2004. But it was representation, not leadership. At the very least, leadership in this case would have required a better show of the difficulty inherent in his choice, instead of him going so quietly. Indeed, there's another way to view Daschle's decision: as another symptom of his general timidity. Try to imagine the shoe on the other foot--Democrats forcing through a bill they wrote in secret with no input from the other party--and then imagine Bill Frist or Trent Lott rolling over in the same way. It's possible, as those gentlemen are no less immune to either the realities of elective politics or the power of pork--but it doesn't seem nearly as likely. Republicans fight better than Democrats--you can bet that they would have at least gotten a few licks in before bowing to the inevitable, thus showing the Republican base that they're with 'em. And until Democrats develop a similar taste for similar licks, we're going to get rolled by the Republicans again and again, and gain nothing.
