How Prop. 140 Could Feed the Public’s Distrust of Government : Politics: Term limits may produce new faces, but the same old special interests may end pulling the strings. So much for the ‘citizen’ Legislature.

The California Supreme Court upheld legislative term limits smack in the middle of the U.S. Senate’s tumultuous hearings on Anita F. Hill’s charges that Supreme Court nominee Clarence Thomas sexually harassed her. Is there a message here?

The disarray in which both Congress and the California Legislature find themselves is largely self-inflicted. Perceptions of bickering, insensitivity, posturing and inaction have galvanized public anger and frustration against Washington and Sacramento. This “downing of the legislative process” is also a manifestation of drive-by politics: Mow down anyone or anything that stands in the way of a particular goal.

Tired of media images of Capitol Hill anarchy and arrogance, Americans are warming to the idea of using term limits to clean up the mess they see strewn around Washington.

Californians lashed out at their state’s politicians by passing Proposition 140 last November. What these voters wanted--and now expect--is “a new class of legislators who are not interested in careerism, but in the best interests of their district and constituents,” according to one term-limit supporter.

All that can be safely said is that Prop. 140, assuming the U.S. Supreme Court doesn’t overturn it, will change the nature of government and politics in California. The question is how.

What if Prop. 140 doesn’t deliver “a new class of legislators”? What if our political system continues to disable or destroy people and institutions?

The first thing eager reformers should understand is that change won’t come immediately. In the years leading up to 1996, when term limits kick in, lame-duck officeholders will spend their time either laying political or professional plans or concentrating on public policy. Given how the system operates, one path seldom converges with the other. And human nature being what it is, the odds are that career-shifting will take precedence over legislating.

In any event, reapportionment may reshape the Legislature more quickly than Prop. 140--particularly if redistricting is done by the state Supreme Court, as now seems inevitable. In upholding term limits by a 6-1 vote, the justices indicated that any value in allowing unrestricted tenure would be outweighed by “the state’s strong interests in protecting against an entrenched dynastic legislative bureaucracy and thereby encouraging new candidates to seek public office.” There’s little reason not to expect that philosophy to guide the court in reapportionment. That would mean the end of districts tailored for entrenched incumbents.

Prop. 140’s supporters exalt in the hope of new faces on the political scene, and, to some extent, that will happen. But current legislators could find a home in offices with no term limits--or hang around the Capitol lobbying. Unlike old soldiers, they won’t fade away.

The influence of personalities on politics and government won’t change. If our leaders don’t--or can’t--lead now, what makes anyone think a simple game of musical chairs will improve matters?

Prop. 140 limits the tenure of good legislators as well as bad. And Sacramento has some effective players who will be tossed out. There’s no guarantee that strong leaders--or weak leaders--will be replaced by strong leaders. Or by leaders who will be any more representative than current officeholders, when it comes to addressing the needs and concerns of all Californians.

Term limits don’t guarantee that the hard issues--health care, homelessness, the budget deficit--confronting government will be addressed. That mandate was never spelled out in Prop. 140.

Indeed, no law or mechanism can mandate who participates or how much change that participation can produce within an institution or political environment. New faces do not necessarily mean new perspectives. Or better policy.

Voters got where they are--angry, cynical, distrustful of government--because they see some incompetent louts running around Sacramento and Washington. But if these denizens of legislative halls are slurping at the public trough and accomplishing little, it is because elections put them there.

Government may not be working right because the campaign process, by which we select our leaders, isn’t working so well, either. Term limits don’t address that.

Prop. 140 contains no cure for media-driven, image politics, no guarantee that term limits will curb the influence of money on politics. Indeed, Prop. 140 could raise the cost of political campaigns. In downplaying the advantage of incumbency over the long haul, term limits may increase the importance of name recognition and of the money needed to get that name across.

If reapportionment results in truly competitive districts, campaign costs will escalate, meaning even greater candidate dependence on special-interest contributions. The most dangerous fallout from Prop. 140 may be that, instead of loosening the stranglehold of special interests on policy-makers, term limits will allow these interests to play a far more direct role in shaping public action.

Now, economic and ideological interests exert their influence indirectly, through campaign contributions and political support. Most candidates sell at least part of themselves to several constituencies.

But consider: A middle-level manager in a corporation or labor union is approached to run for the Assembly. Spend six years in Sacramento, his or her bosses propose, after a campaign bankrolled by the business. Make sure certain issues are placed on the legislative agenda and others kept off. Then come back to a blossoming career.

How responsive might these “occupational” representatives be to groups and issues beyond their charge? What loyalty will they owe to political parties that are already weak? What role is there for ideology?

Consider. Ideological groups of every stripe--liberals, conservatives, pro-life, pro-choice, environmentalists, loggers-- recruit candidates, raise money, move directly into the legislative arena. Now that’s political participation. But many ideological candidates will come to office with a single-issue agenda. And some may have no need or desire to go beyond their narrow interests to make sure the public good is addressed, too.

What happens then? Does this give California a “citizen” Legislature? It has always been the case in politics that time, resources, training, motivation and interest orientation present obstacles to real citizen participation. For the great majority of Californians, that won’t change under Prop. 140.

The political elite may look different, perhaps more reflective of the state’s racial and ethnic diversity. But California will still be governed by a political elite.

The have-nots will still be unable to afford the time, money and energy needed to run for and win legislative office. They will still be too busy surviving; they will still have to fight for access to the political playing field.

Sure, fair representation, public consensus and legislative compromise might be the fruits of Prop. 140. But, frankly, history shows that the term-limits measure could instead lead to institutionalizing social and ideological cleavages. That can only fortify the political Balkanization that torpedoed state budget negotiations, inflamed voter hostility and gave momentum to the term-limits movement in the first place.

If Prop. 140 fails to deliver as promised, that could turn up the intensity of public rage or alienation. In an era of political mean-spiritedness and frustration, the cheap fix of Prop. 140 will not save us from the social chaos that seems more likely with every ideological fight and governmental failure.