With the legislative session in its final fortnight, those lawmakers whose work will soon come to naught have begun to show their frustration. As the clock runs down and the game seems lost, sometimes players get testy.
Following a flare-up on the floor of the state House of Representatives last week, I Googled two words: “civility” and “politics.” In 0.2 seconds the magic machine returned 1,110,000 hits. I didn’t read them all, but it’s safe to say most of the million-plus articles reflect the prevailing belief that civic life too often lacks the leavening touch of politesse. I found none protesting an excess of political good behavior.
It has become fashionable to deplore political incivility. But it’s certainly not a new phenomenon. In centuries past, Americans thrilled to political invective that even Ann Coulter and Al Franken might find unsettling. OK, that’s unlikely. But like professional wrestling and cock fighting, contact politics has always found an audience, producing a unique combination of sweat and ruffled feathers.
Now about that flare-up. It came after several hours of heated debate on a bill that would increase the financial damages insurance companies could face in court and boost the likelihood of lawsuits. Trial attorneys like it and rallied their Democratic allies in support.
Rep. Dan Roach, R-Bonney Lake, along with most Republicans, doesn’t like it. After having been warned against personal attacks, he nonetheless closed a floor speech with a verbal shot at the House majority leader’s husband. It wasn’t subtle. Telling his colleagues that the “Keith Kessler train is coming through,” he went for the big finish, pumping his arm and making that “whoo-whoo” noise people make when they want to sound like a freight train.
Mr. Kessler is a former president of the state association of trial lawyers.
His wife, Lynn Kessler, D-Hoquiam, promptly demanded an apology. Debate shut down for 15 minutes, after which Roach offered one of those non-apology apologies, a version of “I’m sorry if you were hurt when your eye hit my elbow.” Naturally, this didn’t satisfy Kessler, who told Seattle Times reporter David Postman that Roach is the kind of guy who doesn’t belong in the Legislature. For his part, Roach told Postman that he purposely used “theatrics on the floor” in order “to be heard.”
Former Vice President Hubert Humphrey once reminded college students, “The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.” Roach may not have helped himself.
Members of the minority party have little power but the power of persuasion. Roger Sherman, an early American patriot, said it well: “Minorities talk. Majorities vote.” If talking is your lot, do it well.
Talk sometimes gets hot. When it sears, even the powerful seek refuge in appeals to civility. The Clintons hold the copyright on the phrase, “politics of personal destruction,” which they routinely trot out to avoid unpleasant scrutiny. Just last year in our state, the House majority overstepped when the clerk started censoring Republican press releases in a blatant attempt to suppress dissent behind the civility fig leaf.
That’s not what happened to Roach. Legislative debate has simple rules: “A member shall confine all remarks to the question under debate and avoid personalities. No member shall impugn the motive of any member’s vote or argument.” It’s no different from grade school.
The insult to Kessler was wrong – both irrelevant and ineffective. Recently, President Bush quipped on the mishandled firing of federal prosecutors, “You know you’ve botched it when people sympathize with lawyers.” Roach similarly botched it by shifting attention from the issue to the insult. Legitimate criticism of a bad bill got lost in coverage of an intramural flap.
In politics especially, personal relationships must withstand intense disagreements. The rules of debate – like many rules of conduct – are designed to keep the institution running effectively, not merely to preserve decorum for public consumption. Motives are rarely relevant. Facts and consequences are always relevant.
Vigorous, colorful, even theatrical speech belongs in politics. Successful politicians use their passion, wit, and rhetoric to convert adversaries and energize allies. Civility does not require muzzles. It does require good judgment.
Richard S. Davis, vice president-communications of the Association of Washington Business, writes every other Wednesday. His columns do not necessarily reflect the views of AWB. Write Davis at richardd@awb.org or Association of Washington Business, P.O. Box 658, 1414 Cherry Street SE, Olympia, WA 98507-0658.
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