Every politically sentient American knows that Congress has been dominated by special interests, and many people do not remember a time when Congress legislated in the public interest. In the 1960s and '70s, however, lobbyists were aggressive but were countered by progressive senators and representatives, as several books have documented.
What has remained untold is the major behind-the-scenes contribution of entrepreneurial Congressional staff, who planted the seeds of public interest bills in their bosses' minds and maneuvered to counteract the influence of lobbyists to pass laws in consumer protection, public health, and other policy arenas crying out for effective government regulation. They infuriated Nixon's advisor, John Ehrlichman, who called them "bumblebees," a name they wore as a badge of honor.
For his insider account, Pertschuk draws on many interviews, as well as his fifteen years serving on the staff of the Senate Commerce Committee that Senator Warren Magnuson chaired and as the committee's Democratic Staff Director. That committee became, in Ralph Nader's words, "the Grand Central Station for consumer protection advocates."
"My greatest pleasure in writing this book has been chronicling how, as Magnuson's Bumblebees, we built the counterforce to those lobbies. In doing so, I have avoided describing the quantum leap in the number of corporate lobbyists operating in Washington over the past thirty years and the consequent political dominance they have gained over all phases of the legislative process. Every politically sentient American is aware that Washington lobbyists are the powerhouse of the plutocracy."
Michael Pertschuk was a consumer and public health advocate who worked for and with the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation in the 1960s and 1970s, which is the focus of the book. Pertschuk worked with senators—and especially with Washington State Senator Warren Magnuson, who was the Committee Chairman—to enact consumer protections and, as the subtitle of the book indicates, to counter corporate lobbies.
This was more of a memoir than I was expecting. Much of it focused on Pertschuk's life and journey to his eventual role as the leader of the staff for the Committee, and his relationships with the politicians and their staffs of the day. The book could have benefited from a bit more editing and organization, as the structure was unclear. Rather than discussing linearly or chronologically, or based on a particular consumer protection law, or even focusing on a particular "mover and shaker" in the political field at that time, Pertschuk does quite a bit of jumping back and forth. It's much more stream of consciousness than necessarily an organized remembering.
That particular choice was distracting, and sometimes made the book harder to follow than it needed to be, but overall, the insider look at the Senate in those days was riveting. I had an especial interest since Pertschuk discussed Washington State Senator Warren Magnuson at great length, and I was born and have lived for nearly my whole life in Washington State. Almost daily, I see a building or program named for the man. Senators don't tend to loom large in our memories, as former Presidents often do, so I greatly enjoyed that inside look. (Though I was less than impressed with Magnuson a number of times after some of the behind-the-scenes information the author shared...) Pertschuk pointed out that many staffers were more progressive than the congresspeople they were staffing, and often pulled them along in the fight to do the right thing for consumers. This seemed to often be the case with Pertschuk and Magnuson.
It was fascinating to see from the inside the struggle of enacting consumer protection laws against lobbyists, even in those days. At one point, Pertschuk is recounting a bill they were attempting to push through after being made aware of baby sleepwear that was bursting into flames and setting babies on fire. You would think that would be a pretty universal thing, not wanting babies to have intense burns from their sleepwear. But, as Pertschuk recounts: "We still faced a formidable challenge in getting this bill through. Unlike the bumbling General Motors executives and auto industry lobbyists, the textile lobbyists were savvy. With the backing of powerful senators from the southern cotton-growing and textile-manufacturing states, they were determined and confident that they could stop the bill—confident enough that one of their lobbyists threatened me that blood would run in the halls of Congress before such a bill would pass." THERE WERE PEOPLE WHO WERE ADVOCATING ON BEHALF OF COMPANIES WHOSE FABRICS SET BABIES ON FIRE. I understand that some people made their livings on textiles, but come on. It feels very reminiscent of some common sense bills that will never get passed with our current congressional make-up because of the intense powers of todays lobbies and special interest groups.
There is a startling—though not surprising—parallel between the rhetoric that Pertschuk and the Commerce Committee heard in the 1960s around regulations on cigarettes, and the rhetoric that we hear these days about many issues. However, the debate that comes most quickly to mind as a comparison, especially after the devastating attack in Las Vegas last week, is the similar rhetoric we hear about gun safety laws and the NRA. When attempting to enact laws that would require cigarette companies to include health disclaimers on their packaging, they were told that it was a waste of time because a bill like that could never get passed. Dr. Michael B. Shimkin, who is one of the doctors credited with establishing the connection between smoking and cancer, told Pertschuk that there was no scientific doubt that cigarettes cause cancer, but "that his colleagues at the Cancer Institute, many of whom were smokers, had scorned the evidence because they were determined to prove that their own focus, air pollution, was the only cause of lung cancer. Shimkin's crusade was a lonely one, but he was a disciplined scientist, and I learned from him the basics of the scientific case against smoking—and the answers to the claims that the science condemning cigarette smoking remained 'controversial,' rendering regulatory action as yet unwarranted."
(Semi-related, but if that doesn't sound remarkably similar to the conversations we're also having about climate change, and specifically what we're hearing from Republicans and their continued denial that people have an impact on climate change, I don't know what does.)
It was an uphill battle for them. Every time it seemed as though there was a milestone, every time they gained ground, the smoking lobbyists would throw up another roadblock. At one point, the obstacle was in fact the president. (Sound familiar?) Nixon, who was no friend to consumer advocacy, had just been elected in 1968 when the Commerce Committee was in the thick of several fights. But they somehow still managed to not only enact cigarette packaging laws, but also regulations on cigarette advertising and marketing. Pertschuk explains how they had similar fights around car safety regulations, and with the textiles lobbyists, and with hazardous substances, and numerous others.
I'm not sure what the genesis of this particular book was, when Pertschuk started working on it, but it couldn't be more timely. As we sink further into the mire that is this shameful presidency, the contrast between the progress Pertschuk writes about and the regression we are currently experiencing in virtually every area is incredibly stark. As the quote at the start of this post indicates, Pertschuk acknowledges that the strength and pure numbers of lobbyists have increased exponentially since his time working with the Senate five decades ago. I wish that he had presented been more practical solutions or suggestions for dealing with the sharp increase of lobbyists, and the sharp decrease in protections for everyday people. But this book did provide me with a sliver of hope, though he was writing about events half a century ago, that there are people out there who believe in the power of government to protect and provide for a society, and genuinely want to make people's lives better. There are outstanding, fierce, passionate politicians, both on the national stage, and at the local level, who truly believe in public service. And that's not nothing.
I received an ARC of this book in exchange for a review.
Say “Congress” and what comes to mind—partisan rancor, grandstanding, the money men calling the shots. It hasn’t always been like this. Michael Pertschuk takes us back to an era less than fifty years ago when wise men worked across the aisle to “Help form a more perfect union” and he explains exactly how important advances were accomplished against great odds. This book would inform anyone contemplating a career in politics, or even a short stint as a political intern because it explains how things actually get accomplished in political settings. Pertschuk’s anecdotes and advice ring true from my own career in Washington, DC. Unfortunately, Pertschuk laments (as do many of us) that the ability to “Get things done” has been overwhelmed by a tsunami of money and rancor. While this book does not offer solutions, it reminds us of a time when the system worked for everyone’s betterment. Read more at bookmanreader.blogspot.com.
An interesting, straightforward memoir of a Senate staffer's work during the heady days of the late 1960s and the 1970s when Congress was at its apex of productivity and exploration of improving the machinery of American government. But this book is very in the weeds, mostly on subjects of policy focus decades ago, and so the chronicles here by chapter aren't particularly timely. Nor does the author give us much gossip on the giants of that age beyond his boss the legendary Warren Magnuson. This is about the minute work of staffers effectuating the changes of the Great Society and the Nixon years, focused almost exclusively on consumer affairs fights. It's a great read for Hill staffers or students of the old Congress, but not recommended for many others.