Props. 131, 140 Could Turn Capitol Into Political Lab : Politics: State measures to limit terms and restrict campaign fund raising would have a profound effect.

Imagine this scenario:

The date is Oct. 1, 1995, and the power to run California is up for grabs. More than 60 members in the 80-seat state Assembly and perhaps 20 of the 40 state senators will be forced to retire within a year.

Hundreds of candidates hoping to capture the open seats are seeking support throughout the state. With the primary elections just eight months away, the candidates--prohibited until now from raising money for their campaigns--begin a mad dash for cash.

The hopefuls can accept only limited amounts from the Sacramento-based special-interest groups that once fueled legislative campaigns. Much of the lobbyists’ money has been replaced by a new source--the taxpayers. Candidates who agree to limit their spending receive $3 from the state treasury to match every $1 they collect from individual donors in their districts.

All of this could happen if voters on Nov. 6 pass both Propositions 131 and 140, which taken together would limit the terms of state politicians and enact a sweeping new campaign finance law.

And that would be only the beginning. Supporters and opponents of the two initiatives agree that if both measures become law, California’s Legislature will become the laboratory for a political experiment that could turn today’s Capitol power structure on its head.

“(Legislators) are going to be coming at it with a different attitude,” said state Sen. John Seymour (R-Anaheim). “They’re going to say, ‘I’ve got a short time here to do what I think should be done.’ Things will be much more energetic.”

Seymour is one of about a dozen incumbent legislators--all Republicans--who have endorsed Proposition 140, which would limit Assembly members to six years in office and senators to eight years. Four state lawmakers--all Democrats--have backed Proposition 131, which would cap service in each house at 12 years, sharply limit campaign contributions from lobbying groups and create a system for taxpayer financing of campaigns.

If both measures pass and Proposition 140 gets more votes, the shorter-term limits in that initiative would take effect along with the campaign finance rules contained in Proposition 131.

That combination, which opinion polls indicate is the most probable, would radically change a Legislature now controlled by veteran lawmakers who raise millions of dollars in campaign funds from industry and professional groups with an interest in legislation.

Under such a scenario, every Assembly member elected this year would be forced to retire by 1996. Two years later, the Senate would be swept clean of the last of its current members.

Who would replace them? Chances are there would be more women and minorities than in the current Legislature, because they tend to get elected only when there is an open seat. There might be a rush of local politicians moving up--city council members and county supervisors who have been blocked by the logjam of incumbents. More Assembly members would probably run for the Senate, and senators might even run for the Assembly--something unheard of today.

Supporters say term limits would encourage a new era of “citizen politicians” --entrepreneurs, executives, professionals and laborers.

“When we’re gone, people who are trained in the private sector will replace us,” said Assemblyman William J. Filante (R-Greenbrae). “I don’t care whether they’re from business or professions, from teaching or farming, they will be going up there without the idea of making it a lifetime career.”

But one person’s “citizen” is another’s untested rookie. With retirement benefits and job security eliminated, opponents of term limits question the caliber of the people who would seek the jobs.

“You’ll have rank amateurs as legislators,” warns Assemblywoman Delaine Eastin (D-Union City), who opposes both measures. “I don’t think too many people will step off the career ladder to take six years off for a job they can never do again--ever.”

The shorter-term limits in Proposition 140 might also deplete the Legislature’s institutional memory, shifting power to the governor and the executive branch and also to the special-interest lobbyists.

“Some guy from the Department of Health Services is going to come over and promise that the administration will implement the cancer registry this year or they’ll clean up this toxic spill site 18 months from now,” said Democratic Assemblyman Lloyd Connelly of Sacramento, who opposes Proposition 140. “But three years ago he said the same thing to the committee and they’re all gone now. Eighty new people have walked in and he can say whatever he wants.”

Whether the newcomers are qualified or not, they are certain to be guided by legislators with far less experience than the current leadership.

The two Democrats who have led the Legislature for a decade--Assembly Speaker Willie Brown of San Francisco and Senate President Pro Tem David A. Roberti of Los Angeles--would be forced from office. It is unlikely that anyone would ever be able to duplicate the awesome power that those two have built during their tenure.

Brown and Roberti control the appointment of committee members and can decide the fate of legislation by directing bills to friendly or unfriendly panels. Through the Rules Committees in each house, the leaders control the members’ staffs and budgets--and their office space. They anoint candidates for open seats and use their power to help allies raise campaign money from special interests.

“This would weaken the speakership,” said Assemblyman Dennis Brown (R-Long Beach), who is retiring this year and supports Proposition 140. “You wouldn’t have that dominating force we have today.”

The leaders’ power would be diffused further by the campaign finance provisions of Proposition 131, which would prohibit candidates from taking more than one-third of their money from political committees.

The annual rush of fund-raising receptions at the end of the legislative session would probably be replaced by smaller and more frequent money-raising parties in each member’s district. Committees representing doctors, lawyers, insurance companies and the like would be forced to break up into local chapters, and individuals within those industries might contribute directly rather than through an organization.

“This will produce a sea change in the way political consultants and fund-raisers operate,” said Jim Wheaton, manager of the campaign for Proposition 131. “The savvy ones will get themselves back into the districts. I think it’s really healthy for the legislators not to have to listen to the lobbyists in Sacramento, but to go back and listen to real doctors and real nurses and real cops in their districts.”

Still, lawmakers could be expected to fight for even a weakened leadership post. The frequent turnover could make future Legislatures constant battlegrounds where members and factions continually vie to elect loyalists to help them control the house. During the last major battle over the Assembly speakership, in 1980, one legislator hopped fences in the middle of the night in an attempt to meet with prospective lawmakers and confirm pledges of support.

“If Machiavelli were alive today he’d be just giggling with excitement at the opportunities that would avail him,” said Assemblywoman Jackie Speier (D-South San Francisco).

Even some lawmakers who support the measures concede that the initiatives do not guarantee the ideal Legislature. Assemblyman Tom Hayden (D-Santa Monica) said he endorsed Proposition 131 more as a way to lash out at the current power structure than a positive reform.

“It’s a way to encourage people to leave before they burn out,” Hayden said. “That doesn’t guarantee that the incoming members will be better or public policy will be better. It’s really a rejectionist philosophy aimed at the status quo. It’s another revolt that carries with it the danger of unintended consequences.”