In the bowels of Soldier Field, the canny rock star Bono was telling me about yanking his kids from an elite Manhattan private school and returning them to a better, public school in Dublin. His and his wife’s high-minded New York education hopes were misplaced.
The black leather-clad front man for U2 soon felt an aide’s tug—”I have to do a show,” he apologized. Within minutes, he was bringing joy to 63,000 with the Irish band’s trademark muscularity, towering props and calls for political reforms in locales as faraway as Burma.
I saw one black t-shirt clad speck of a spectator among the Tuesday night throng—Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel a.k.a The Missile—and sadly realized that he’s got a tougher task trying to inspire those same concertgoers in a wee bit of reform back here.
The Missile probably made some sort of history that morning before maybe 15 people in a sterile conference room. He was a politician surfacing voluntarily at the Board of Ethics.
For sure, he didn’t inspire the press corps in announcing a high-minded plan to limit lobbyists’ misdeeds and make their city dealings transparent. Reporters quickly changed the subject to police officers needlessly assigned to schools, the future of city-sponsored July 3 fireworks, the declining economics of Taste of Chicago, and where the mayor’s three kids will attend school in the fall.
The corrupt nexus of politics and money is passé to professional skeptics, a bit like U2’s show was to music critics, who found insufficient innovation, regardless of the obviously contented 63,000. For the City Hall savants, there were also the better odds of ginning up an editor’s interest with the calamitous prospect of Life Without Taste.
Just like three-too-many Miller Lites on a sultry day at the lakefront, civic nonchalance about ethics should inspire dyspepsia. But lack of interest is a force more impactful than the new ordinances and rules promulgated by The Missile.
The new mayor can seek needed disclosures about lobbyists but still confront a collective ennui. Its best manifestation comes on Election Day, when about half of us don’t vote even as our tax dollars seek to bring democracy to Iraq and Afghanistan.
And this inertia will be repeated despite another Illinois governor standing criminally convicted. It may already be Stone Age news by current standards—more than 10 days old, my goodness! — but you do remember the guy, the “Celebrity Apprentice” contestant, don’t you?
We’re just outright dubious about a politician discussing ethics, transparency or other “trust me” issues, as they’re called by Jeff Seglin, a lecturer on public policy and head of the communications program at Harvard’s Kennedy School.
Our doubts persist even as Illinois makes true headway on both campaign finance and ethics rules, in part inspired by the legacy of that just-convicted former governor whose name I’m repressing after months of obsession. There have been real advances on contribution limits, including by businesses doing state work. Yes, in Illinois.
Floodgates were opened nationally by a key United States Supreme Court decision known as Citizens United, ending limits on so-called independent political expenditures, which are by definition not political contributions though they may seek to influence an election. By one reading of the decision, governments can force disclosure of the identity of contributors to state and local races and, to that end, Illinois has made real progress, in the view of Steve Berlin, executive director of the city board of ethics.
A related question came from Cindi Canary, the former longtime head of the Illinois Campaign for Political Reform: “The law has changed, but has the culture?”
That’s relevant since we’ll need proof that money isn’t unavoidably corrosive and won’t forever bring access and influence, while shafting the little guy.
But just like there doesn’t seem much to be gained in bashing a band for playing its own hits, especially if 63,000 people come away smiling, there’s not a ton to be gained from visceral cynicism.
The proof, for the reform-minded politician, must be whether he can actually change behavior. Thus, one can embrace The Missile’s early efforts even without being so presumptuous as to laud him for cleansing the system.
Maybe we can all seek the triumph of hope over experience. Yes, bars or limits on lobbyist gifts, loans or campaign contributions won’t change the world. But while we fret over the loss of July 3 fireworks, we could also genuinely wish for more honest government.
Were the concert tickets a gift?