By Ray Stern
By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
Conflict-of-interest rules enacted by the Arizona State Legislature in 1984 were designed as window dressing to show that members really did care how things looked to the rest of the world. But even the rules' sponsors admitted that, when scrutinized, the rules don't mean squat.
Despite that, members of the House Ethics Committee felt compelled Monday to slap down a first-term lawmaker who saw no problem with discussing and voting on legislation dealing with daycare centers. The lawmakers admitted that Glendale Republican Bob Burns may not have actually violated the loosely written rules even though he owns two such centers. But Burns made the mistake of asking the panel for a ruling and, with the press sitting in the front row, his colleagues felt they had to do something.
The rules sound great on paper. They prohibit lawmakers from taking any official action on a measure in which they or family members have "a material financial benefit or detriment." But lawmakers added a proviso that this doesn't apply if the legislator is part of a "class" affected by the action.
That escape clause was the brainchild of former House Majority Leader Burton Barr. He said he wanted to make sure that lawmakers could vote on issues that affected many, such as a tax increase for all state residents. In his own case, Barr admitted that the escape clause would allow him to vote on a bill that affected only companies that sell fixtures for grocery stores. Barr owns such a store.
Burns was prepared to vote Monday on a bill that would reduce property taxes for daycare centers. After all, the bill affected all daycare centers. But, beginning to take some heat from colleagues, he decided to punt and ask the five-member ethics committee for a ruling. It concluded he had a conflict.
Committee members actually had to do some mental gymnastics to reach that conclusion. Chairman Chris Herstam admitted to Burns that, technically speaking, "you're correct in your analysis of what appears to be a very nebulous conflict rule." But Herstam joined the majority in voting anyway to declare the conflict.
House Majority Leader Jim Meredith voted the same way, though he admits that the question of a conflict--at least under the House rules--is more perception than reality. Meredith, who sells and manages real estate, votes on bills that affect the regulation of real estate agents.
Democrat Herb Guenther concluded that Burns has no conflict. "There are very few of us who don't benefit from one form of legislation or another," he argues, saying, for example, that if the rules were too strict then lawmakers with children couldn't vote on issues affecting education. Or, take the issue of water regulations. "We all drink water," he says. "We all have water needs for our future."
His reasoning holds water. Guenther is administrative assistant of the Welton- Mohawk Irrigation District. But that didn't stop him from sponsoring and voting for legislation to grant immunity to his boardmembers and the district's paid manager, his boss.
"The line is whether or not I will directly benefit or indirectly benefit," he sniffs. "My employment is not contingent upon it [the bill]. It is what is good for the greater class of people."
Burns sees nothing wrong with protecting his interests. "I believe that anybody that serves in the legislature that has a knowledge of an industry should lend their expertise on an educational scale," he says. "If those bills are harmful to the industry, that information ought to be forwarded" to other lawmakers.
He certainly has some "expertise." Both of his daycare centers--one is on West Indian School Road in Phoenix and the other on 67th Avenue in Glendale--have been cited by state officials for insufficient staff.
Burns figured the conflict-of-interest rules allowed him to speak out earlier this month against two Department of Health Services (DHS) proposals to give the agency more power over daycare centers. In one instance, Burns didn't even have to bother signing up to speak on the measures, the procedure normally required. He badmouthed the DHS proposals from his seat on the House Health Committee when the measures came before that panel. Burns was the only person to speak against the measures; after his complaints, committee chairman Bart Baker set the bills aside, at least for the time being.
Burns also attended a meeting of that committee last week to support other daycare center owners lobbying to keep DHS from requiring more staffers. A Republican colleague who sits on that committee called his presence in the audience "highly inappropriate."
House Speaker Jane Hull has used the "class" argument. She voted last year for a measure to grant immunity for physicians who deliver babies despite the fact that her husband, Terry, is an obstetrician. Her pro-immunity vote was offset by the negative vote from Senator David Bartlett, who was a representative until last year. Bartlett is a lawyer and his wife, Janice Wezelman, practices civil law for plaintiffs.
This session, Mesa Republican Mark Killian, saying he's just trying to protect farmers from unreasonable laws, is sponsoring legislation that deals with when county assessors can boost taxes on farms. Killian and his family own farm property in the county.
Sometimes the actions of lawmakers are not that obvious. Former House Speaker Frank Kelley had the system beat when he was on the payroll of the SamCor hospital chain as a "consultant" for many years. As speaker, he could simply kill measures his benefactors didn't like by refusing to schedule them for a vote. That meant no messy questions about participating in floor debate or having to vote on the issues.
FIGHTING FOR WHAT'S RIGHT-WING
Two dozen leaders of "new right" organizations are banding together to help "educate" recalcitrant lawmakers.
The newly formed coalition, dubbed the Arizona Family Leadership Forum, is an effort by some members to shed their image as one-issue organizations concerned only about single subjects like making abortion illegal, getting government money for "Christian" home schools, eradicating pornography or fighting the teaching of evolution. These groups are starting to realize that they are more likely to get their point across--and their bills through the legislature--if they have allies.
Trent Franks, a one-term legislator from west Phoenix who later worked for the Mecham administration, is spearheading the group. Franks insists he wasn't a one-issue legislator, though he was known largely for his antiabortion measures--he regularly sported a tie tack in the shape of the feet of a fetus.
"The constituencies that are represented here are nothing short of astounding," Franks says. So far he has signed up people like Carolyn Gerster, president of Arizona Right to Life; Sydney Hoff, director of the ultraconservative Lincoln Caucus; Shirley Whitlock, president of the local chapter of the Eagle Forum, Phyllis Schlafly's answer to the women's liberation movement; Alan Sears, executive director of the antiporn Citizens for Decency through Law; Bob McAdams, director of the right-wing Free Congress Foundation; and Pastor Jim Singleton, president of the Arizona Association for Christian Schools.
These groups have pushed through some legislation dealing with kiddie porn and restrictions on abortions for minors. But more often than not their favored measures failed because of lack of support from the more moderate Republicans who ran the legislature. Even when they succeeded at the legislature, many of their bills were vetoed by Democratic governors.
This year has been no better.
"We're having a tough time getting any of our bills dealing with morals out this year," complains Mesa Republican Representative Lela Steffey.
The way Franks sees it, the Mecham controversy actually hurt their cause. Some of the victories last November by Mechamites were at the expense of other conservative Republicans--many with the power that comes with seniority--who simply didn't see eye to eye with the ex-governor. Other victories by Mecham backers in the GOP primary over incumbents only opened the door to Democrats taking the seats in the general election.
Franks says the new coalition will mean "that some legislators would see the light--or feel the heat." By tying their issues together under a "pro-family" banner, the groups make it harder for lawmakers to oppose them, lest he or she be tainted as "antifamily."
The forum will not be able to lobby legislators because it's organized as a nonprofit charity. Instead, Franks explains, it will do "research" for legislators, educating them to what he calls the "observable consequences" of government policies and practices.
But all this education costs money. Franks won't say who is contributing to the cause other than "interested people in the community." Franks won't disclose the annual budget; he claims that it is more than $100,000 but less than $1 million.