Why a politician’s like a painter

News item: San Francisco’s Civil Service Commission voted May 19, 2003, to triple the annual salaries of city-county supervisors to $112,320.

Back in the last century (actually, it was the late ’80s or early ’90s, but “last century” lends such historical cachet) the supervisors of a certain California county voted themselves a huge pay raise.

The public arguments were what they always are:

• “We work so hard for our constituents.”

• “This is a complex job that requires full-time attention.”

• “It’s a matter of fairness.”

• “Raising the salary means regular folks can afford to serve.”

• “Raising the salary means we will attract excellent candidates.”

They might have added, “Never mind that the latter two points are somewhat contradictory.”

There also was the less emphasized – even subliminal – argument that well paid public officials were less susceptible to “influence,” a dainty euphemism for graft and bribery.

The good people of the county weren’t buying it. The taxpayers’ association whipped up a petition, collected the requisite signatures and put a measure on the next ballot.

This measure, which passed handily, not only rescinded the pay increase, but also substantially reduced the supervisors’ compensation from its previous level.

You would think, based on the arguments above, that this voter rebellion would have had a number of repercussions:

• Supervisors wouldn’t work as hard.

• Being part-timers, they wouldn’t be able to handle their complex jobs.

• Being treated unfairly, they would resign or choose not to run again.

• Regular folks would be unable to serve.

• The job would not attract excellent candidates.

• Supervisors who stayed on would be more susceptible to “influence.”

In fact, only one of the above proved true: Regular folks couldn’t afford to serve. But then, they never could.

The supes put in just as many hours as before, doing both actual work and the labor entailed in keeping their political fences mended. The quality of their work in the “complex job” was not measurably different, and they chose to run again.

The matter of candidates’ excellence remained moot, as did that of their susceptibility to “influence.”

The point is, the same checkered collection of candidates ran as had run before: the glad-handing politicos with ambitions for higher office, the bored retirees, the energetic Girl Scout leaders, the single-issue fanatics and, of course, the incumbents.

Pay was not an issue. Power was, and the lure of office.

Now San Francisco is giving the same old arguments a go, with profligate panache. The pay raise will cost the city and county about $820,000 next year, which won’t help a projected deficit of nearly $350 million.

San Francisco’s politicians used the dodge of having the raise “imposed” by the Civil Service Commission, just as California’s Legislature has its pay regularly augmented by a “disinterested” salary commission.

Members of such commissions – political appointees all – can be trusted to exercise the Golden Rule, as long as doing so doesn’t affect their personal accounts.

San Francisco is a labor town, and big labor – including the public-employee unions – is backing the increase, having figured out it is less costly to soak the taxpayers to overfeed elected officials than it is to dip into union funds to “influence” them. All they have to do henceforth is remind the supes that labor backed the big raise.

A neat irony in all this is that when the supervisors retire or move up to even higher-paying political jobs, their colleagues will reward them with testimonials and plaques commemorating the sacrifice of their “public service.”

My suggestion remains the same as it was in the last century: Cut their pay to zero.

Those who would serve selflessly still will do so. Those who are corrupt won’t steal any more – or any less – than they would if they were on salary. Overall, the quality of candidates will not decline.

When one surrenders to the compulsion to seek public office, an irreversible change takes place, and the compulsion rules thenceforth.

Politicians are like painters – they’ll pursue their art, whether you pay them or not.