Who Are These Folk Called Legislators?
by
Tom Baxter
Georgia Online News Service
Pity your poor legislator. No, seriously.
In times like these, it's hard to gin up much sympathy for our lawmakers in Atlanta. It can be even harder when you have the opportunity to observe them close up. But the payoff for representing you in the General Assembly has never been lower than it is now. That should concern us all.
No one go to the trouble to get elected just for the paycheck but, for the record, a legislator's annual salary is $17,341 with a $173 a day expense allowance when doing the state's business. There's no chance for a raise any time soon.
On the other hand, the cost of getting elected is going up steadily, with big-money races popping up in places where a few yardsigns sufficed for a campaign. Incumbent legislators in safe districts used to be able to loan themselves the relatively small amount money it took to get back to Atlanta and raise it back after their elections. These days, that strategy looks a lot riskier: Getting under water on an election can be even costlier than getting under water on a mortgage.
Service in the legislature used to be viewed as a good cornerstone for a young lawyer or businessperson, something that lent prestige to their practice or business and gave them valuable contacts around the state. That trend has been gradually reversing for years, as "retiree" and "consultant" has increasingly replaced "attorney" and "store owner" in the Facebook descriptions of what lawmakers do for a living.
"The only people who run for office any more are those who don't need any money, and those who are looking for a job," a lobbyist and former legislator said this week.
For those who are gainfully employed, the time and trouble involved in elective office is becoming increasingly burdensome. One unintended consequence of Gov. Perdue's proposed reorganization of the Department of Transportation is that it will increase that workload by making legislators more directly responsible for road projects within their districts. Even if, as some critics say, the real power will be concentrated in the governor, lieutenant governor and speaker, the headaches will be spread across the board.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution recently did a story on how the worsening economy has affected legislators. The several lawmakers who reported having severe difficulties represented only a sample of the financial distress being felt under the Golden Dome. One developer-legislator recently opined privately that the worst thing about the recession was that he was being forced to sell both his planes. Again, it's hard to gin up much pity. But stories about lawmakers selling heavy equipment at firesale prices paint a more troubling picture: Lawmakers struggling to maintain their own solvency aren't going to spend as much time worrying about the state's.
What about the intangible rewards – the notoriety and prestige, the satisfaction in doing what you believe in? There's less of all that than there was a few years ago. If you make a great speech in the well of the House, there will be fewer reporters there to write down what you said, and fewer cameras to stand in front of when you go out in the hall.
The rewards of doing what's right have never been easy to harvest and, in the increasingly lockstep partisan atmosphere, deciding what's right on your own is frowned upon.
The best evidence for that may have been the debate on the bill, which bans the creation of fertilized embryos for scientific research, which occupied the Senate on crossover day last Thursday. The senators debated some of the most difficult questions of life and death for the better part of the afternoon, and tabled the measure on a vote in which some Republicans voted with Democrats. But then the measure was amended, the bill taken off the table, and passed on a straight party-line vote. It was as if the would be Spinozas and Thomas Aquinas had been shooed back into their respective corners, under "D" and "R."
But, you might say, what about stealing? As the more legitimate rewards for serving in the legislature fade away, there inevitably is a stronger temptation to go that route, but even the crooked path isn't sure. By the rough count of several hallway experts this week, there are at least six former legislators who have served in recent years who are either in prison or have served their time.
All in all, not the most inviting job prospect, even in these times.
Tom Baxter is editor of the Southern Political Report and senior vice president of its parent company, InsiderAdvantage, a media and polling firm. He was the chief political correspondent at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution for 20 years. [full bio]
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