Jones Is Cut Out for Public Service, Not Politics

If you get bored listening to all the repetitive TV chatter Tuesday night and just want to watch the state election returns, go to a computer and type in www.ss.ca.gov.

That’s the secretary of state’s website. Then click on “Vote 2004 Live Election Results.” Choose a contest -- perhaps a ballot prop or a legislative race.

And thank Bill Jones.

He didn’t actually create the online rolling returns. That credit goes to Tony Miller, the acting secretary of state back in 1994. At the time, it was the first such operation in the country. But Jones beat Democrat Miller that November to win the office, and he greatly expanded the website into the user-friendly service it is today.

“He built on what we started,” Miller says. “What he really deserves a lot of credit for is being the leader in providing online access to contribution reports.”

Curious about which special interest is bankrolling an ambitious state lawmaker or suspicious-looking ballot prop, and by how much? Go to the same website. Click on “Campaign & Lobbying Information.”

Jones coaxed a leery Legislature into passing a bill that authorized him to put campaign contribution reports on the Internet. They’re updated daily as the election approaches.

All this is to say that Jones, 54, a Fresno rancher, is a very good public servant -- if not much of a big-time politician.

A 12-year member of the Assembly, where he was minority leader, Jones barely won his two secretary of state races against weak opposition. He finished a distant third in a 2002 bid for the GOP gubernatorial nomination.

In March, Jones won the Republican nomination for the U.S. Senate, but now seems about to be buried under a Barbara Boxer landslide. Public polls show him trailing the Democratic incumbent by 18 to 22 points.

For starters, this is a classic example of why there should not be term limits. Jones was an excellent secretary of state for two terms, arguably the best in decades. And he still should be holding the office.

If he were, there wouldn’t be the mess that currently exists under Kevin Shelley. Unlike Shelley, Jones wouldn’t be fighting allegations that he accepted laundered campaign contributions, illegally used public funds for partisan politicking and verbally abused staffers.

Jones conducted the office in a nonpartisan manner, attempting to increase voter participation regardless of party. Nobody questioned his integrity. He was on the cutting edge of technology. And, unlike Shelley, he got along with county voter registrars. He always was civil.

“It’s tragic what has happened there since I left. I’m heartsick about it,” says Jones, who has suggested that Shelley step aside at least until after the election.

Jones loved the job. It was a good fit. He probably would be there today if not for term limits. But, paradoxically, Jones still supports term limits, especially for statewide officials.

And Jones, like most Republicans, continues to oppose public financing of political campaigns, although he’s a prime example of why it’s needed. It’s needed, in his case, to make the playing field more level.

For most politicians, it’s needed to reduce special-interest investments in their careers -- investments that pay dividends when the lawmakers make public policy. This is much less of a concern with Jones, however, since he never has acquired the skill of groveling for money. He seems to lack the desire.

“You can always raise money,” Jones once told me. “But you can’t raise a record” of public accomplishment.

But Jones hasn’t been able to raise enough money even to run TV ads, virtually unprecedented for a major Senate candidate. Boxer has run at least $7 million worth of warm and fuzzy spots.

Donors don’t give big money to projected losers; Jones is losing largely because he can’t raise money.

He had pledged $2 million of his own wealth for a final TV push, but couldn’t deliver for business reasons, he asserts. Whatever. He’s to be commended for not wasting $2 million of his family’s money.

Jones also is losing for other reasons:

As a campaigner, he doesn’t connect. He belabors points and is seldom succinct. There’s rarely a sound bite for broadcast media or a sexy quote for print.

He’s too conservative on some California litmus test issues -- abortion, guns, the environment -- for a Senate or gubernatorial candidate.

He crossed George W. Bush in 2000 by reneging on an endorsement and deserting to Sen. John McCain. After Bush was elected president, it was payback time. Bushies cut off Jones’ meager money.

Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger hasn’t helped much. Jones looks too much like a loser for this political superstar.

I asked Jones what he’d tell voters if he could. “Look at my record,” he replied. “Personal security. Good education. Jobs and quality of life. I don’t just talk about those issues, I’ve legislated and been successful.”

Probably his most notable legislation: the three strikes sentencing act that Proposition 66 would loosen. He’s fighting the measure, primarily because it would delete burglary and gang violence as “strike” crimes.

Jones has qualities voters tell pollsters they desire in a public official: effectiveness, integrity, character. But in voting, they usually choose the best politician with the most clever TV ads.

You can log onto the website and watch.