Bradley and the Reality of Perception

Machiavelli was right. In his 16th-Century primer for politicians, he argues that while “a prince should seem to be all mercy, faith, integrity, humanity, and religion,” it isn’t necessary that he actually possess those qualities.

In other words, whether or not a politician is honest doesn’t matter as much as whether he is perceived to be honest. And it doesn’t matter if he isn’t dirty, if he looks dirty. In politics, perception is reality.

Tom Bradley is learning that the hard way. With allegations of conflicts of interest swirling around him, the mayor told the City Council, “My decision to engage in outside employment was a mistake because of the perceptions it created.”

His outside employment, Bradley argued, “although not legally wrong, has created the perception that I fell short of my own high standards for government.” The mayor is beginning to understand why, regardless of their legality, his relationships with two firms who do business with the city, and other questions surrounding his financial dealings, are so politically dangerous.

Historically we have tended not only to hold people in public office to a higher standard of ethical behavior, but we insist upon holding them to their own standard of ethical behavior. The press skewered former Sen. Gary Hart after he denied charges of impropriety and challenged reporters to monitor his behavior. Richard M. Nixon was judged against his own denial of criminality.

Bradley risks a similar fate. It is precisely because of his image as “Mr. Integrity” that the debate over his actions is so hot. Were we to judge the behavior in office of some of Bradley’s predecessors, would the firestorm of criticism be so intense? Or would we merely shrug our civic shoulders and sigh there he goes again?

Political culture also frames the “integrity issue.” Local politics is “the politics of friends and neighbors”; it deals with specific requests and personalized problems rather than abstract policies and sweeping issues.

Bradley’s behavior shows a pattern of helping friends; it is a natural one--given his personal bent, the requirements of his job and the political arena in which he operates.

But history has also shown that friendship is one of the most corrupting influences in American politics. Viewing the mayor’s actions from this confusing perspective, what becomes important to sort out is: Who benefits? How? Why?

Can city officials separate private relationships from their public roles? Are some conflicts of interest unavoidable, given the nature and complexity of government?

It made sense that Bradley, as mayor of Los Angeles, lobbied to keep a major firm like Drexel Burnham Lambert in the area--whether or not the firm was a major campaign contributor, or he and Michael Milken were social friends. But should he have dealt with the firm as both a private client and a public official?

When the mayor belatedly put his financial holdings in a blind trust, he acknowledged that the ethical climate of politics had changed. “We are living in new and different times,” he noted. “I just think in light of the times, the question of ethics has been raised all over the world.”

The media is largely responsible for raising that question--although the Los Angeles press was slow to call Bradley on the issue. The city’s media bought into the mystique of “Mr. Clean.” One reporter allowed that he saw disclosure statements showing Bradley’s bank ties early on, but didn’t pursue it because he didn’t think anything was wrong.

But now, at every level of government, “ethics watching is the new blood sport of choice,” as Newsweek put it. “ In today’s ethics hothouse, there are no heroes.” So with the first published report of questions concerning the mayor’s financial dealings, the Los Angeles media stripped Bradley of his Reaganesque Teflon. The press won’t let this issue go away.

But the current flap is not a mere media feeding frenzy. And it can’t be dismissed on the basis of politics or civic culture or leadership style. There are elements of Bradley’s behavior that cannot be ignored or explained away as mere perceptions. They raise significant questions about the way city business is done and what is appropriate political behavior.

Bradley has long been committed to affirmative action and minority involvement in city affairs. It is a natural outgrowth of his political philosophy, and of the role of mayor as he sees it, to encourage the city to do business with minority firms. And there is no legal prohibition against his serving on outside boards. Should he have accepted compensation for serving as an adviser to one minority bank--the only paid adviser? Should city officials sit on the board--paid or unpaid--of any institution that does business with the city? Or any board--be it Common Cause or the Far East Bank?

From the beginning, the mayor’s actions and his responses to criticism have fit a behavioral pattern that has contributed to the erosion of leadership at every level of government. One might call it “professional politician’s syndrome.”

Bradley has just been re-elected for an unprecedented fifth term as mayor; he has served 16 years in that office and has spent more than a quarter of a century as an elected official. Politics is his career. He is an entrenched incumbent.

He hobnobs with world leaders and movie stars; he has grown used to the perks of power and office. Somewhat remote by nature, he has become isolated from much of his constituency.

When professional politicians--like Bradley--remain virtually unchallenged in their constituency, insulated by protective staff and coddled by special interests who need their favor, they can become separated from reality. That isolation tends to breed a feeling of invincibility. It is only a matter of time before a political careerist becomes convinced that he or she is the expert in deciding what’s best and what’s right for the constituency.

As politicians perceive themselves to be less vulnerable politically, they tend to become less accountable to the voters and more responsive to the system in which they must operate to advance their careers. That means accepting campaign contributions, favors and honorariums from people and interests with a stake in the policy the system produces.

We’ve heard it all before. At every level of government and politics the problems are systemic and until that system changes, conflicts of interest will be inevitable.

Indications are that “ethics watching” at city hall remains pretty much an insiders’ game. Despite intense media exposure in the past few weeks, a recent Los Angeles Times poll showed that almost 50% of the public was still unaware of the Bradley affair.

Most insiders are hedging their bets on what Bradley’s political fate will be. It’s far from being proved that Bradley broke the law and both his supporters and opponents in city government seem content to let the drama play itself out.

There is a recognition among even the mayor’s most virulent city hall critics that their own actions and investments could easily fall into the same “Twilight Zone” of ethical scrutiny. What politician, at this stage, would dare to cast the first stone?

And although the polls show that Bradley’s overall approval rating is down, there appears to be no critical mass of opposition building in the electorate--yet. The old alliance of blacks, Jews and Latinos still holds. Barring conviction, Bradley should be mayor for the next four years.

But Bradley was elected on the basis of experience, judgment and integrity. His apparent actions have called all three into question. He stands accused of not being what we wanted him to be--and that is an unforgivable political crime. So whether or not the investigations stemming from the current spate of accusations exonerate the mayor, his leadership has been hobbled.

The mayor was weakened politically by his narrow re-election victory. Now his preoccupation with the allegations and his defense have put his policy agenda at risk. And, in the media and in City Hall--if not in the public’s perception--the overarching problems of this diverse urban community have been upstaged by continuing revelations of possible conflicts of interests.

The mayor’s troubles are the stuff of Shakespearean tragedy. In fact, Shakespeare almost predicted this one. A keen observer of politicians, he said of another’s political fate, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars--but in ourselves.”

In Los Angeles that includes the media, along with all of us who elect our leaders to represent “the public good,” and then proceed to ignore them.