Election Reform: Politics and Policy, edited by Daniel J.
Palazzolo and James W. Ceaser, Lexington Books, 2004, ISBN 0739107968,
$25.00, paper, 280 pages.
The 2000 election debacle in Florida exposed significant problems in
that state’s electoral procedures. Presumably, the protracted
tabulation of votes could have happened elsewhere in the country.
However, election issues identified in Florida failed to produce
anything akin to a uniform response from state legislatures.
Palazzolo and Ceaser, along with a host of contributors, seek to
explain why states respond with different election reform initiatives,
and to place their findings about election reform in the broader policy
innovation literature.
Palazzolo divides state performance on electoral reform into three
camps: leading reform states—those that took significant initiative in
reforming election law; states that made incremental changes to
election law; and late-developing reform states—those that waited for
direction from federal legislation (the Help America Vote Act or
HAVA). The book employs eleven case studies of individual states,
representing the gambit of reform performance, in its analysis of
election reform. Florida, Georgia and Maryland were each
proactive on election reform; California, Idaho, Missouri, Pennsylvania
and Virginia implemented incremental reforms; and reforms in Arizona,
Illinois, and New York were late to develop.
Each case addresses similar broad hypothesized variables determinate of
reform performance, lending useful comparison to the study.
Certain “structural factors” including the threat of a close election,
the capacity of election law (codified registration, provisional
ballot, vote change, and recount procedures), political culture, and
unified or divided party control, each is hypothesized to affect reform
performance. “Situational factors” including commissions
reviewing election procedures, the states’ fiscal situations, the
influence of key stakeholders, leadership, and external pressures from
the federal government are also studied as potential contributors to
reform performance.
The strongest determinate of reform, interestingly, does not appear to
be the threat of an electoral fiasco. Reform performance appears
to vary most significantly with party control, commission
recommendations, and leadership. Leadership and the involvement
of commissions relate most strongly to policy adoption, with party
unity playing a lesser, but important, role. While the election
reform process may have entered a new phase with the passage of HAVA
(2002), it is suggested that factors shaping state reform initiatives
up to that point remain relevant to understanding the various processes
of election reform yet to come.
Contributors to Election Reform include: Bruce Cain, James W. Ceaser,
Doug Chapin, Joshua Dyck, James Gimpel, Mathew Gunning, David Kimball,
Martha Kropf, Glen Krutz, R. Doug Lewis, Sarah Liebschutz, Todd
Lochner, Karin MacDonald, Susan A. MacManus, Jerome Maddox, Daniel J.
Palazzolo, Robert Montjoy, Gary Moncrief, Elizabeth Peiffer, Randall
Strahan, and John T. Whelan.
Walter
Wilson
Carl Albert Congressional Fellow
The University of Oklahoma
The First Presidential Communications Agency:
FDR's Office of Government Reports, by Mordecai Lee,
State University of New York Press, 2005, ISBN 0791463591, $70.00,
cloth, 288 pages.
Mordecai Lee’s work, The
First Presidential Communications Agency: FDR’s Office of Government
Reports,
tells the story of Franklin Roosevelt’s ongoing battle to establish an
Office of Government Reports to act as a two-way information street
informing the government and affected administrations about public
opinion and simultaneously providing the public with information about
administration policies and decisions.
From the creation of its predecessor, the National Emergency Council
(which, before switching to the currently used and shorter title, US
Government Manual, humorously issued their annual report as the
loquaciously titled Daily Revised Manual of Emergency Recovery Agencies
and Facilities Provided by the United States Government: A Simplified
Textbook of Federal Activities which Enables Every Citizen to Use
Effectively, Speedily, and Directly the Emergency Service which the
Government has Established), to the legislative passage of
congressional authorization for OGR, and then to its eventual death by
funding starvation, the Office of Government Reports was a provocative
and controversial enterprise.
Lee seeks to place this ebb and flow within a broader framework. Given
the twentieth century evolution of the modern federal government, Lee
sees this long ignored story highlighting three themes: the struggle
for preeminence between presidents and Congress, the transformation of
the president by the rise of the information age, and reporting by
government agencies to the public. Lee believes these themes are of
interest to political science, communications, and public
administration.
The
First Presidential Communications Agency is rich in historical
detail. His narrative spreads from Woodrow Wilson’s 1917 creation, the
Committee on Public Information, through the turn of the new century.
Lee analyzes FDR’s National Emergency Council and its many divisions
and tasks. He dissects the Brownlow Committee’s (named after the chair,
Louis Brownlow; the actual name was the President’s Committee on
Administrative Management) ideas for a genuine separate entity for
presidential communications as part of FDR’s proposed new Executive
Office of the President. The military had its own idea and wanted a War
Resources Board to advocate adherence to an Industrial Mobilization
Plan needing only symbolic presidential approval (and therefore
providing the president with little actual power). A real Office of
Government Reports finally passed Congress in 1941, even though FDR had
created the EOP in 1939 by executive order. Due mainly to the drawn out
fight over the US Information Center, only a year later the OGR was
merged into the Office of War Information. After the war, Truman ended
OWI and returned OGR to its prewar status. It died in 1948 when
Congress refused to authorize funds.
Lee goes into extensive detail about each of these facets of OGR’s
life. The laborious inter-branch battles are combed over in almost
daily progressions. In relation to the three themes mentioned earlier,
the first is where Lee is at his best. Congress, specifically the
conservative coalition, is continuously critical and suspicious of
public-relations expenditures in executive-branch agencies. Not only
were some members of the coalition of the opposing political party,
but, as Lee says, “[l]egislators have an institutional interest in
minimizing public relations in public administration” (4). The
institutional rhetoric reached hyperbolic levels. Either OGR or the US
Information Center especially, at various times were called “a personal
OGPU [the acronym of the political secret police in the Soviet Union,
prior to the KGB] for the President” (70), “Dr Roosevelt’s Propaganda
Trust” (97), or a “potential Ministry of Propaganda” (97), to name a
few attacks. The Washington Post was fond of using sarcastic headlines,
such as “Found: A Man Who Could Use Mellett’s [Lowell Mellett was head
of the OGR] Madhouse [referring to the US Information Center]”
(132). At one point FDR had to issue a public letter saying, “I
am as much opposed to American Dictatorship as you are” (38).
Lee ostensibly believes that FDR’s general idea to inform the public
and to be informed about the public was sound. He writes, “The demise
of OGR contributed to the demise of public reporting. This was a
regrettable development if one accepts the theory that public reporting
is one way to harmonize the modern administrative state with democracy”
(12). Yet, in order to justify this position and make FDR shine
even brighter, it would have been advantageous to delve into the
legislative-executive issues even more deeply. Even though OGR “would
not be a propaganda agency, trying overtly to persuade and convince
people about how well the administration was performing” (15), or “a
censorship agency vis-à-vis the work of reporters” (15), how does an
administration stay away from these two troubled paths? Every
administration seemingly wants to win reelection to further implement
policy goals. How does one simply inform the public without trying to
persuade the public the administration (as opposed to Congress, the
courts, or the opposing party members) is right? How does a government
distribute movies like The River and The Plow That Broke the Plains
(about flooding and soil conservation respectively) without straying
into “propaganda” for their policy proposals in those areas? Lee
touches briefly on these issues in chapter six but does not stay long
on the topic.
As has been hinted at, FDR assumes a prominent role in this work. He is
energetic, altruistic, and hard working, sometimes pushing the idea of
an OGR alone. No one knew what to call the new agency so FDR wrote in
the title himself (47). He insisted the low point in the
depression be fixed in early March (99). He fought tooth-and-nail
with the War Resources Board. He intervened personally to help change
the opinion of a Bureau of the Budget report over the movement of NEC’s
information activities. On September 8, 1939 FDR issued Executive Order
8248 establishing the EOP, which included OGR as one of its five
agencies. Therefore, it would have been interesting to see why FDR
disdained the Committee on Public Information, which was created by
executive order by Wilson in 1917 to “be the central source for
information about US involvement in World War I” (13). What
exactly did FDR think the differences were between the two agencies?
As Lee points out, the OGR was an important conception because its
effects are quite obvious today. The US Governmental Manual is still
published. The Ad Council continues to provide public-service campaigns
for federal agencies. The president gets daily news summaries. The
White House Office of Public Liaison provides information directly to
the public about programs and activities of the administration. Most
importantly, debates regarding censorship, propaganda, legislative and
executive tussles, the role of the Office of Communications (since
1969), and the fine line between informing and advocating are everyday
occurrences. Mordecai Lee has provided an important look at where so
much of our contemporary scene originated.
Matt
O. Field
Carl Albert Congressional Fellow
University of Oklahoma
Television: The Limits of Deregulation, by Lori A.
Brainard, Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2004, ISBN 1588262448, $49.95,
cloth, 197 pages.
This book combines three of my interests: the Congress, the regulatory
state, and television. Lori Brainard offers a very readable and
interesting narrative of policy development at the FCC. Framed by
regulation theory, the book does an excellent job of placing the
ongoing policy debates within the FCC, between the FCC and the
Congress, and within and among the various affected groups into both
historical and theoretical context. Communications policy is the
product of a jumble and a jungle of competing interests. It has
been driven by technological change, by the visions of both Republican
and Democratic administrations, and by entrenched interests at the
communications bar and in the congressional subcommittee rooms.
If readers of this review are interested in a book that is accessible
to students, informed, and educative, I strongly recommend it.
The book fares less well as a study in congressional policy making or
of congressional oversight of bureaucracy. To be sure, the main
contours of congressional interest in and action upon communications
policy are plainly and interestingly described. But the case
study has its main focus on policy evolution and not on the mechanics
or dynamics of legislation or oversight. It sticks to the large
overview, and not to the small detail.
Brainard observes that theories of bureaucratic and legislative policy
making tend to focus on the role and impact of organized groups.
Both the Congress and the FCC have been thought to be responsive to the
most influential players in the communications field, whether they be
the major broadcast networks in their heyday, the upstart cable
industry, the dominant Bell system, or the new internet firms.
She argues that an interpretation communications policy that restricts
itself to rent-seeking and/or coalition-building is not adequate
because so much of the policy debate was framed by ideology. It
turns out that what people believe really has made a difference in
shaping communications policy. Is fairness important? Is
competition important? Is there an overarching public good to be
served? Is concentration of power a danger? These are
normative questions that have divided Republicans from Democrats but
also Republicans from Republicans and Democrats from Democrats.
And, very importantly, we learn why communications policy did not fall
prey to deregulation as had other areas of regulatory policy such as
the airlines and trucking industry. It was only partly because
self-interested businesses sought to retain regulation; it was also
because policy makers in both political parties believed in it.
The evolution of communications policy, says Brainard, has been slow
and incremental. Yet it is best explained, she believes, by a
contingency theory approach that stresses the evolution of
communications policy within the context of the ideological forces that
have shaped it over time.
Ron
Peters
Regents’ Professor of Political Science
University of Oklahoma
Term Limits and the Dismantling of State
Legislative Professionalism, by Thad Kousser,
Cambridge University Press, 2005, ISBN 0521839858, $70.00, cloth, 288
pages.
While most scholars have focused attention on how term limits affect
who serves in state legislatures, Thad Kousser breaks new ground in his
book, Term Limits and the
Dismantling of State Legislative Professionalism, by focusing on
how features of institutional design, and principally term limits,
alter legislative procedures, policy innovation, and the balance of
power among institutional actors.
Using multiple methods and sources of data, Kousser engages in both
deductive theorizing, quantitative analysis, and elite interviews with
staff, lobbyists and legislators. In doing so, he succeeds in
assembling an accessible account while satisfying the scholarly reader
with several appendices covering the details of his statistical
analysis, equations and proofs for his formal models, and an epilogue
on legislative adaptations to term limits. If adopted for classroom
usage, the book could provide multiple ways to explore formal theory,
legislative institutional issues, and member behavior.
Kousser’s research question is to assess the impact of both legislative
professionalization and term limits on state legislatures’ form
(defined as the internal organization and dynamics) and function
(defined as external interactions with other branches of government and
policy outputs) (4). His data incorporates aggregate
cross-sectional measures across all 50 states as well as longitudinal
comparisons of both institutional and individual level measures in six
states (California, Colorado, Illinois, Maine, New Mexico, and Oregon)
of varying degrees of professionalization and experience with term
limits.
The results are in some cases fairly predictable. For example,
Kousser finds, not surprisingly, that leadership stability declines
after the advent of term limits (91) and that legislatures with the
most staff, higher lawmaker salaries, and longer sessions also tend to
be the ones that allow committees the most autonomy over legislative
procedure and staffing (113). On the other hand, some of the
findings provide new insight into the importance of legislative design,
and particularly term limits. He shows, not surprisingly, that a
member’s legislative “batting average”(operationalized as of bills
passed/bills introduced) is greater for majority party members and
leaders than rank-and-file members (144). But with term limits,
Kousser demonstrates altered patterns of legislator “batting averages”
in a way that enhances even more the advantages of majority party
control (146). Kousser concludes that term limits have a
“polarizing effect” in the sense that “each legislature’s rich have
gotten richer while its poor performers have grown poorer” (147).
In terms of the balance of power between the legislative and executive
branches, Kousser undertakes a detailed analysis of higher education
and health care budgets in comparable legislative sessions before and
after the implementation of term limits. Here, he posits a formal
bargaining game between the two branches and then tests two main
hypotheses with empirical data. He shows that less professional
legislatures have less bargaining leverage vis-à-vis the governor and
the legislatures after implementing term limits experience a
substantial decline in their ability to alter a governor’s budget
(174-5). Interestingly, Kousser also demonstrates that more
professional legislatures and the presence of veteran legislators
produce more innovative policies (199), but that veteran legislators
are also most likely to maximize their efforts at innovation when they
are on the verge of being term limited (202).
In sum, Kousser argues that legislative professionalism and term limits
pull in opposite directions in terms of the effects on legislative
behavior, form, and function. By linking formal theory to his
empirical analysis, he describes not only what has changed as a result
of professionalization and term limits but also to offer some
explanation of why. This book offers welcome empirical data to
the normative debate about the value of the term limit “reform.”
Cindy
Simon Rosenthal
Professor of Political Science