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Last
week, my Bearing Drift blogging colleague Jim
Hoeft asked what has become a central
question in the presidential political contest:
How important is authenticity?
Jim
phrases the question this way:
Is
believing that a candidate is telling you the
truth about economy, Iraq, immigration, etc. more
important than what they’re actually saying?
Yes,
belief is important. It’s especially so in an
electorate that is, generally, politically
irrational. (See "It's
All Our Fault!", June 19, 2007.)
But
it’s because we, the people, are an irrational
sort that we ought not get too wrapped up in what
any of the candidates, for any office at any level
of government, are saying. Why? Because no matter
how many position papers they write, pledges they
sign or promises they make, politicians all end up
hanging out with Baptists and bootleggers. George
Mason University economist Russell Roberts
explains it this way:
Politicians
are just like the rest of us. They find it hard
to do the right thing. They claim to have
principles, but when their principles clash with
what is expedient, they often find a way to
justify their self-interest. If they sacrifice
what is noble or ideal for personal gain, they
are sure to explain that is was all for the
children, or the environment or at least for the
good of society.
Sounds
like an argument for the (recently rescinded)
abusive driving fees, doesn’t it? Designed to
raise road construction money, once they came
under fire, the fees were really about road safety
(never mind that one of the legislation’s
godfathers, Del. Dave Albo, makes a living arguing
traffic cases in court). When that didn’t take,
it was a race to see who could repeal the fees the
fastest. What’s at work here? Let’s go back to
Roberts:
Pigs
don’t fly. Politicians, being mere mortals
like the rest of us, respond to incentives.
They’re a mixture of selfless and selfish and
when the incentives push them to do the wrong
thing, albeit the self-interested one, why
should we ever be surprised? Why should be
fooled by their professions of principle, their
claims of devotion to the public interest?
That’s
what was at work – incentives. One of the
threads holding House Republicans together, at
least nominally, was their opposition to general
tax increases. But as much as people don’t like
tax hikes, they also detest sitting in traffic.
But the only conventional way to ease that traffic
was to spend more money on road construction…
which would require more money from somewhere. And
on top of that, with an election looming,
Republicans had to do something to reconcile these
seemingly conflicting impulses. Thus
was born the incentive to reach for any
alternative that couldn’t be easily pinned as a
tax hike. But responding to that incentive had
some painful consequences. Republicans lost
primary elections over the transportation package.
Even Dave Albo, who had no opponent, saw his
margin clipped by random write-in votes. So
what went wrong? Robert’s says it’s a matter
of which interests and incentives hold sway at a
particular moment in time:
We
call politicians our representatives and they
often claim to be fighting for us. But when we
think about it, we understand that our interests
are diverse and that no politician can really
fight for all of us. Inevitably, our interests
and desires clash and politicians are
forced to choose between the general interest
and the special interest. Which wins?
In
politics, as in markets, as in life, incentives
are everywhere. How we choose often is a function
of how that choice maximizes our personal return.
For Virginia pols, the incentive to do something
that might address the problem and save their jobs
was overwhelming. It won. For the moment. But
now, the incentives have changed and abuser fees
gone. But the bigger incentive to pour more money
into roads, from some source, remains (unless they
have a Road-to-Damascus moment and start paying
attention to Jim Bacon). How
they respond will be as enlightening as it could
be expensive. But of course, all of this is just a
local expression of an old, widespread phenomenon.
For example, Ronald Reagan was a firm believer in
free markets and limited government. But he
slapped quotas on Japanese cars, raised Social
Security and other taxes and presided over a huge
expansion of the federal government. These
decisions ran counter to principles Reagan
espoused for decades. But he did it, because the
incentives matched his personal political needs.
(It’s also why, even before he left office, that
some conservatives were calling Reagan a traitor
to the movement). Or
look at the cast of characters all seeking the
Republican nomination today. Before the Michigan
primary, Mitt Romney promises to bring the auto
industry and hundreds of thousands of jobs. John
McCain says the jobs are never coming back. Who
wins the vote? Romney. The incentive to make what
his CEO brain surely knows is an impossibility was
powerful: He needed a win. Romney
is hardly the only one responding to incentives.
In Florida, the state has essentially socialized
the home insurance industry. The Governor has
asked the federal government to help by spreading
the risk nationwide. Florida
hasn't found many takers on Capitol Hill, but the
idea has gained followers among presidential
candidates. Rudy Giuliani, for one, desperately
needs a win. He’s staked his fortune on Florida
and, not surprisingly, he has said warm, fuzzy
things about Florida’s insurance scheme. John
McCain, too, has responded to incentives. He
really doesn’t like social conservative leaders
and has said so many times in the past. He isn’t
keen on tax cuts, and has voted that belief in the
past. He was an immigration dove, but has become
something of a hawk… because even though he
believes in free immigration, the votes aren’t
there in Republican primaries to support such a
stand. The incentive to undermine his principle
was clear. And now that he is in contention for
the nomination, the incentive exists for him to
back away from any number of his other stands and
utterances. Will he do so? It depends on the
pay-off. And the pay-off for him is the
nomination. Now
back to the Baptists and bootleggers…. Roberts
paraphrases a Bruce Yandle anecdote to show what
happens when good intentions (or principles)
collide with special interests. It’s informative
because it illustrates how even the pursuit of
principle can enrich those we would rather see
impoverished:
When
the city council bans liquor sales on Sundays,
the Baptists rejoice — it’s wrong to drink
on the Lord’s day. The bootleggers, rejoice,
too. It increases the demand for their services. The
Baptists give the politicians cover for doing
what the bootleggers want. No politician says we
should ban liquor sales on Sunday in order to
enrich the bootleggers who support his campaign.
The politician holds up one hand to heaven and
talk about his devotion to morality. With the
other hand, he collects campaign contributions
(or bribes) from the bootleggers. Yandle
points out that virtually every well-intentioned
regulation has a bunch of bootleggers along for
the ride — special interests who profit from
the idealism of the activists and altruists.
So
every time someone talks about a regulation, a
law, an ordinance that will clean up corruption,
end traffic congestion and generally make each of
us above average in every way, don’t worry: Both
the Baptists and the bootleggers will come out
winners. Is
authenticity important? On one level — a
“brand” level — it is. But in practice,
authenticity takes a back seat to incentives,
regardless of the candidate, the party or the
platform.
--
January 28, 2008
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