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The Young Turks

10 People Who Can Help Get a Project Built — Or Help Stop One


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Gingrich-Cuomo Cooper Union Debate Transcripts

Q&A with Gale Brewer

Q&A with Jessica Lappin

Editorial: Slippery Standards


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New Costs Overruns Threaten to Derail No. 7 Extension

State of the Unions: Employee Free Choice Act Raises Questions and Worries

State of the Unions: 32BJ’s Doyle to IDA

State of the Unions: Tasini to Host Edwards

Public Advocacy Project to Begin This Summer

Mixed Signals on Human Trafficking Bill

Elsewhere: Philadelphia Deals with Campaign Finance Reform

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On/Off the Record: Bill Thompson on Buildings, Brickbats and Breakfast

Back in the District: Serphin Maltese

Battles of the Branches

Pundit Poll: New York Presidential Showdown

Where Are They Now? Claire Shulman


Editorial/Op-Ed

Editorial: Back in the USSR (Upper East Side Soviet Republic)

The View from Albany: Prescription for the Presidency by Alan Chartock

Legislature Should Join Spitzer in Support of Full Public Financing by Richard Kirsch

The Young Turks

How the reformers are changing Albany - and how Albany is changing the reformers

By Edward-Isaac Dovere

The new, fresh-faced legislators burrow into their coats in the early morning cold and hurry to the train north to Albany.

Lobbyists, well-wishers and other attention-seekers stop by their seats—some resting their hands on the well-worn red Amtrak upholstery, some dipping in for a few minutes to the open spots.

Everyone in the train car, nearly, has business in Albany. Every one of them knows about Gov. Eliot Spitzer (D) and the reformer ideology he has been trumpeting around the state, and about the public pressure to change the way business is done in the state capital.

When the hangers-on are not talking to the new legislators, they are talking to their more experienced colleagues, or dealing connections and cracking jokes with each other.

“I’m going to straighten out Albany,” one says to another with a laugh on a recent Tuesday, before the first train pulls out of Penn Station.

The other snickers.

“I’ll follow you,” he says, pivoting and heading to his seat a few rows back.

Reform. A lot of people read a lot of things into the Legislature’s election of Thomas DiNapoli as the new state comptroller. One thing few noticed: when DiNapoli’s seat is filled—along with the others scheduled for special elections March 27—76 of the Assembly’s 150 members will have first arrived in Albany only since the year 2000. More people will have first come to the Assembly after the dawn of the 21st Century than before it.

An arbitrary statistic, perhaps. For a Legislature routinely attacked as needing term limits to flush out the entrenched interests and encrusted legislators, though, the 50 percent turnover has come as a slow and rarely-remarked upon surprise. On the other side of the Capitol, nearly a third of state senators—20 of 62—are new with the millennium.

Most of the new legislators campaigned their way into the Legislature precisely on promises to change Albany’s status quo, which has for years been targeted by good government groups across the state and across the nation.

To some extent, they have been successful in making changes. Both the Assembly and State Senate adopted rules reforms in January 2005. Assembly committee hearings are now more frequent, with committee membership decreased in both bodies to stop attention from being spread too thin and increase attendance. Conference committees open to members outside the leadership are still rare, but when bills reach the floor, members need to be in their seats to vote on them. Before, members were automatically recorded as voting yes on everything, unless they entered the chamber specifically to vote no. Few did then, or at other times.

Reform, said Assembly Member Charles Lavine (D-Nassau), is “much like pornography and beauty: it’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“There’s no question that there’s been a change because there’s new blood, particularly in the Assembly,” said Lawrence Norden, counsel at New York University law school’s Brennan Center. Norden co-authored last year’s “Unfinished Business: New York State Legislative Reform 2006 Update.” The report examined the extent to which the 2004 proposals of the public policy institute have been implemented, and to what effect.

These days, from what he reads and from the conversations he has with legislators, Norden speaks of both a new energy and new atmosphere within the two chambers of state lawmakers, echoing a common sentiment about Albany in 2007. With that, and Spitzer as the new, reform-minded governor after 12 years under his predecessor, the state is at the brink of what Brennan Center executive director Michael Waldman has called a “once-a-generation opportunity to renew government and politics in New York.”

Norden and Waldman are among those watching expectantly for those who charged to the capital as reformers to tear the status quo apart. Whether after a few months or years on the job, these reform-minded politicians will be doing so with quite the same ferocity they promised and springs in their steps still remains unclear.

To Richard Gottfried (D), Manhattan’s Upper West Side Assembly member whose 36 years in office make him the longest-serving Albany lawmaker (first elected before several of his current colleagues were born), that has a lot to do with false expectations.

Gottfried contended that the openness of the political process in Albany and the ability to influence debates at every level is surprising for newcomers and would be “eye-opening for their constituents,” whom he knows are pessimistic about state government.

When Democrats “dramatically rewrote the rules” after first taking the Assembly majority in 1975, Gottfried said, they oversaw a necessary transformation of the chamber. Those changes forced bills to be sent to committees, eliminated proxy voting within committees, and enabled bill sponsors to force votes on legislation within committees. Gottfried is fast to point out that the State Senate did not adopt those changes then, or since.

Gottfried still is not satisfied—he speaks ardently about the need to create a public campaign finance system as a way of making competitive elections more frequent, and thereby, forcing incumbents to be more accountable to their constituents. But he feels the need for more rules reform in the chamber is not as dire as outsiders think.

The man who sits at Gottfried’s right on the Assembly floor, Charles Lavine (D-Nassau), is one of those people who says he has experienced a perspective shift.

Lavine defeated six-term incumbent David Sidikman in the 2004 Democratic primary as the first candidate backed by Nassau County Executive Thomas Suozzi’s (d) Fix Albany campaign. That movement was based on the argument that Albany dysfunction was corroding municipalities through reckless spending and “unfunded mandates” for programs like Medicaid.

After two years of experience, Lavine said, he now realizes that what he “used to read in the papers is not quite the way things really happen,” adding, “the reality is of course what I knew it would be, which is infinitely more complex.”

The Fix Albany campaign has itself gone mostly dormant, with even its website recently going off-line.

Lavine is still after structural tweaks, like enabling bills passed but not signed into law by the end of a calendar year within one session to be debated without being reintroduced (“we probably spend close to a month, give or take, sitting and passing the same darn bills that we had passed a year before,” he said). He also wants to make the Legislature meet year round.

He admits that his ideas may not match exactly with those of all the others who have helped make “reform” the most popular word for stump speeches and campaign mailers in contemporary New York politics.

Reform, he said, is “much like pornography and beauty: it’s in the eye of the beholder.”

But whatever changes do come, Lavine said, he now realizes they will come slowly. Even with a “critical mass” of new, reform-minded legislators growing in the Assembly, he said, they first must put in their time, “establishing credibility and then being able to stand up for change.”

“I don’t think there’s any question: the longer that you’re there, the more the way it works makes sense,” said Lawrence Norden, counsel at the Brennan Center.

With its gold-etched committee room walls reaching up to high, carved ceilings hung with ornate lamps, the Capitol can be an imposing place. First-time visitors regularly get lost, confusing one red stone internal staircase for another. Even those with a few more trips to Albany under their belts can occasionally be seen doing laps around the corridors, searching for room numbers not always so apparent from the posted signs.

Within that imposing, imperial design is another reality, perhaps best represented by the dorm room-issue wooden tables crowded into the historically restored rooms for committee hearings. Hearings easily give way to newer legislators eager to make their statements for the record or question those testifying before them. For those who seek to, quickly establishing a presence among 150 members of the Assembly or 62 state senators is not difficult.

Becoming involved in floor proceedings is not much harder. Unlike in the United States Senate, there is no tradition of waiting for several months, or even years, before speaking on the floor. Forcing legislators to be in their seats to listen to these speeches has led to some more colorful and substantive debate. [See sidebar.] But Albany insiders are divided as to the efficacy of these reforms.

“There’s perception and there’s reality in Albany,” said State Sen. Kevin Parker (D-Brooklyn), the minority whip, who first arrived in 2003. “There are some things that seem intuitively right, but they really at the end have a different kind of result.”

Eliminating empty seat voting, many felt, was an absolutely necessary change that would improve the functioning of state government. Parker said that this failed to fully consider the competing priorities of busy legislators.

“You have committee meetings going on, you have session going on, you’re meeting with constituents,” he said. “Eliminating empty seat voting has now put us in the position where we’re now stuck on the floor, paying attention sometimes to debates that have no real impact on your district.”

Parker also criticized the intensity of the push to further restrict lobbyist donations to $75 meals, especially in contrast to the recently increased legal limit of $15,000 cumulative between primary and general elections for individual contributions to legislators.

Moreover, he argued that no elected official could really have their opinions swayed by having a lobbyist buy them dinner, and that restricting these meals impedes the political process, which is built on these relationships. These, Parker said, are some of the dangers to the rhetoric of reform which people soon come to realize after a little time in office.

This is the kind of talk which gets reform advocates anxious. The Assembly already opted against several rules resolutions sponsored by Minority Leader James Tedisco (R-Saratoga) earlier this month. These would have eased the process for members outside the leadership to force hearings and bring bills more rapidly to the floor, institutionalized conference committees and given Republicans in the chamber more money for resources and staff.

Though the State Senate has remained quiet on this topic, the Assembly’s majority leader, Ron Canestrari (D-Rensselaer), indicated that there may be more institutional reforms on the docket for the Assembly this year. The Brennan Center’s Norden is skeptical these will come, or that they will be significant if they do.

“It will be small steps,” Norden said. “That’s what they did in 2005. My guess is that they’ll take a couple more.”

And those, Norden insisted, will not nearly be the “dramatic change” he feels the Legislature requires.

Norden is among those who say that if more reforms are not adopted early in the session, they may not be adopted in the session at all. As time passes and the chamber’s leather seats become ever more comfortable, he fears that the reformers willing to take up the cause will lose their nerve.

“I don’t think there’s any question: the longer that you’re there, the more the way it works makes sense,” he said.

Reform Meets Reality: A Case Study

Legislation which established civil confinement for sex offenders—which had been kicking around Albany in some version or another since 1993—was recently fast-tracked to passage after a deal between the governor and legislative leaders. The bill was put before the Assembly immediately after a bill to change state workers’ compensation laws, negotiated in a similar deal.

The perceived closed-door genesis of the deals over those bills has drawn the ire of some rank-and-file members like Assembly Member Adriano Espaillat (D-Manhattan), who felt the deliberations should have been more inclusive.

Espaillat is himself a sponsor of the bill, but complained that he was not included in the final negotiations over it. Undercutting any claims of reform, he argued that Spitzer, Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver (D-Manhattan) and Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno (R-Rensselaer) were still behaving like “three men in a room,” the common shorthand slur for Albany dysfunction.

“I have never seen anything worse,” he said, addressing a lunch meeting of the Continuing Care Leadership Coalition shortly after the deals were announced, insisting that he felt a complete lack of transparency and involvement.

Espaillat voted for civil confinement. Fellow Manhattan Democrat Daniel O’Donnell, who spoke at length on his reservations about the bill, did not.

“We rush to judgment and do what we’re told,” he said, explaining his vote to his colleagues. “Well, folks, I’m not going to do what I’m told.”

O’Donnell was one of 19. While no match for the 127 backers, this group did include several senior, more institutionalized members who seemed surprised to be among the nays.

Among the 19 was Brooklyn’s Vito Lopez (D), who said that he felt compelled to vote against the legislation due to the lack of a sunset provision. He insisted this might have been added had the bill gone into committee sometime between coming out of the leaders’ negotiation room and appearing on the Assembly floor.

Fears of how the new laws might disproportionately affect his poorer constituents struck him.

“For the first time in 23 years—and maybe that’s the benefit of being here—I’m going to change my vote and vote no,” he said.

Eyeing the button on his desk, he hesitated until all but a few others had voted, then rose to speak again about why he could not support that version of civil confinement. The chair translated the speech into a vote against the bill.

Fellow Democrat David Gantt (Monroe), first elected in 1983, followed Lopez’s lead in voting against the bill after listening to the floor debate.

Though the decades-long streak since a bill was voted down on the floor continues, if not for the 2005 changes, which required them to be in their seats to vote, Lopez and Gantt might well have simply been counted as voting yes.

Most reform advocates would likely see this as a victory, though the legislation still passed overwhelmingly. Certainly, this moment can be read as a demonstration of the power of having people in their seats for debates, though most of the legislators spent the hour of discussion chatting with each other, eating bananas or fiddling with Blackberries and giggling at emails, more than looking up at and listening to the debate.

—Edward-Isaac Dovere

To many outside observers, that is at the root of legislators’ decision to flex their collective muscle in appointing a new comptroller, beating back Spitzer’s attempts to strong-arm them.

Most Assembly members insist that this should not be read as a contradiction of their reform efforts, and moreover, that it should not be read as a demonstration of a stranglehold by Silver over his conference, whom they say was forced unwillingly into the conflict with Spitzer by his conference.

“You can’t look at that as a litmus test for reform,” contended Assembly Member Karim Camara (D-Brooklyn).

Camara first came to office in a 2005 special election to fill the seat then-Brooklyn Democratic Leader Clarence Norman was forced from on his way to prison. He strongly identifies himself as a reformer. He was one of five relatively new city-based members who recently agreed to self-imposed restrictions on campaign fundraising modeled after those adopted by Spitzer and Lt. Gov. David Paterson (D) at the beginning of the year.

While identifying himself strongly as a reformer, he said, “I’m not interested in reform just for the sake of reform. I’m interested in reform that can help the people that I represent.”

He calls his vote for DiNapoli a pragmatic decision.

“I liked Martha Stark a lot,” Camara said, referring to the New York City finance commissioner who got just 56 votes, compared to DiNapoli’s 150. “She just didn’t have the support or the votes. So if I’m thinking about what’s best for my district—do I support a candidate who has no chance to win, or do I support another candidate who I believe is qualified and have access for another three and a quarter years?”

Trading votes for support, not picking fights when the battles have clearly ended—these are staples of ambitious, effective politicians in any legislative body.

And for those who seek it, the possibility of personal gain, whether through more member items headed to a district or leadership stipend lulus tacked onto the salaries, is there as well. (“It’s not something that’s said,” confided one Assembly member. “But if someone wants to sell his or her vote, I’d be shocked if there’s no way to do it. It’s been going on in democracy since the day we had democracy.”)

Brian Kavanagh (Manhattan), who beat incumbent Sylvia Friedman last year just months after she won a special election for the seat, also voted for DiNapoli. Central to Kavanagh’s campaign was a charge that Friedman had cozied up with Silver and the encrusted establishment between taking office March 1 after winning a special election and their Sept. 12 Democratic primary.

He also campaigned on a message that Albany needed to institute reforms which had proven successful in the city, like the campaign finance system and redistricting reform.

Kavanagh said that after 20 years of late budgets, having them done on time the past two years (time will tell if this year’s will follow suit, and how much larger it will be than last year’s) show the power of reformers to change the structure, as does the more open process of finalizing the budget and the recently-passed ethics bill.

Still, he feels the Legislature must be made more transparent as a route to crafting more effective policy, and to rooting out corruption. Success, however, meant a careful, deliberative effort to bring all his colleagues around to that same realization, and keeping a good relationship with leaders. He called his current relationship with Silver “cordial.”

“Being a reformer, which I do consider myself, is not about making yourself in the wilderness,” he said. “It’s not about standing entirely outside the system.”

Looking to change the system is not mutually exclusive with looking to reap the benefits from working well within the system until those changes come, Kavanagh said. “I want to do both.”