#52-53: Congressional qualifications & money

These two essays introduce important aspects of the House of Representatives. First, the qualifications for the office, which are: 

A representative of the United States must be of the age of twenty-five years; must have been seven years a citizen of the United States; must, at the time of his election, be an inhabitant of the State he is to represent; and, during the time of his service, must be in no office under the United States.

That is the wording found in #52. the wording in Article I, Section II, Clause II of the Constitution is almost the same:

No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained to the Age of twenty five Years, and been seven Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen.

 That’s it. And it doesn’t set a very high bar for such an important job. The requirements for grocery store cashier or pizza delivery guy and many other lesser jobs have higher and more explicit requirements. It seems like the founders should have at least stipulated that candidates for congress at least be able to read, or that they not have been convicted of a felony.

Side note: The Constitution doesn’t prohibit criminals from serving in Congress, and it is common for convicted felons to run for Congress. Some even campaign from prison. Back in 1798, a Vermont brawler named Matthew Lyon won a congressional race from inside his cell.

 The founders thought leaving the job open to almost anybody (i.e., almost any white man) was the best way to empower the spirit of representative democracy. They must have been tempted to put, “No Catholics” or “No Germans” or “No Gentlemen of Intemperate Habit” into the Constitution. But they didn’t because their priority was giving power to the people. And because the believe that a talented public servant could, possibly, come from among the rabble. Remember that one of the authors of these Federalist essays was himself “a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot, in the Caribbean by providence impoverished.”

Under these reasonable limitations, the door of this part of the federal government is open to merit of every description, whether native or adoptive, whether young or old, and without regard to poverty or wealth, or to any particular profession of religious faith.

They were lax about the rules because they believed members of Congress would always be highly qualified. They had confidence that popular election would identify the best man in every district. This turns out to be a mistake. The electoral process just doesn’t work as the founders hoped because voters don’t choose on the basis of candidates’ virtue, insight, probity or ability. This contention is thoroughly justified in Democracy for Realists by Achen and Bartels. Still, the hopeful founders believed that excellent men would be sent to Congress.

Another critical question the Constitution settled was how long a congressional term should last. And the author (We are unsure whether Hamilton or Madison wrote #52 and #53) contends that “frequent” elections are needed to keep representatives in touch with the people:

 [I]t is essential to liberty that the government in general should have a common interest with the people, so it is particularly essential that the branch of it under consideration should have an immediate dependence on, and an intimate sympathy with, the people. Frequent elections are unquestionably the only policy by which this dependence and sympathy can be effectually secured.

 This question was decided on the basis of precedent. The founders considered the terms of the various American state legislatures, as well as England, Ireland and several countries in Europe at the time. And what they found was that the length of terms varied widely. In some places elections happened every year; in others, no oftener than every seven years. During the mid-1600s England had gone 11 years without any parliament, then convened one for only three weeks, and then convened another that sat for 20 years without another election. But all that variation could not be correlated with better government, and Publius concluded that the exact length of term was not critical so long as it was not “too” long or “too” short:

No man will subject himself to the ridicule of pretending that any natural connection subsists between the sun or the seasons, and the period within which human virtue can bear the temptations of power. Happily for mankind, liberty is not, in this respect, confined to any single point of time; but lies within extremes, which afford sufficient latitude for all the variations which may be required by the various situations and circumstances of civil society.

 The purpose of the Federalist Papers was to convince the people to support the new Constitution and all the particulars it contained. So to conclude that the exact length of congressional terms didn’t matter much, so long as extremes were avoided, was unsatisfactory. Publius pushes ahead and says that a two-year term is best for the House of Representatives, and that’s what the Constitution provides.

There is at least one good argument here, and at least one bad one. The good one, found in #53, is that two years is enough time for members to learn their job. Governing is hard and apt to take time to learn. If elections took place every year and members came and went that often, Congress would be hampered at all times by nooby members who were still learning the ropes. Few would ever really settle into the job. Doubling the term from one year to two would give each member time to rise up the learning curve.

The not good argument appears in #52, where Publius evokes a completely irrelevant (but patriotically inspiring) test case, and dares readers to disagree. Even as early as 1787, people admired and revered the generation that fought the revolution and won independence. If two-year terms were good enough for that heroic generation, how could we choose otherwise?

Have we any reason to infer, from the spirit and conduct of the representatives of the people, prior to the Revolution, that biennial elections would have been dangerous to the public liberties? The spirit which everywhere displayed itself at the commencement of the struggle, and which vanquished the obstacles to independence, is the best of proofs that a sufficient portion of liberty had been everywhere enjoyed to inspire both a sense of its worth and a zeal for its proper enlargement.

Publius‘ shoddy argument here is an example of the Halo Effect. Publius holds the two-year term recommendation up close to the rosy image of the heroic revolutionary generation and counts on readers becoming too misty-eyed to see clearly the weakness of his recommendation. There’s nothing there to support congressional terms of exactly two years.

Elections today do not ensure  “an immediate dependence on, and an intimate sympathy with, the people.” The Federalist authors assumed that members would return to their districts and maintain close contacts with their constituents through intimate and personal contact. But that isn’t how elections work anymore. Elections today run on money and mass messaging, and the money comes from wealthy donors, corporations, special interests, and foreign governments. Of course the winner is always the candidate who wins the most votes, but money makes getting votes possible.

Members of Congress facing reelection — unless they are in a very safe district — must devote time to fundraising. And that means less time (not more) in their districts. Members of the House are start filling their campaign chests from day one in office. The job of legislating and serving the public is secondary.

It is almost impossible to overstate the modern congressional obsession with money. It is not an overstatement, for example, to say House members spend more time fundraising than doing their jobs. That is literally and absolutely true. Watch this John Oliver report on congressional fundraising:

Of course members go back to their district at times, and of course they meet with voters. A little bit. One afternoon visit to a library where 20 retired citizens have gathered provides the 10-second video footage needed to go with the candidate’s “I’m Strong on Social Security!” spot. Then a quick stop at an elementary school (“I support Education!”) and perhaps an appearance at a Memorial Day parade (“Veterans!”) or, depending on the district, a community hog roast (“A folksy man of the people!”) or ethnic holiday or parade (“The minority vote!”) . Those quick but well-documented moments provide raw video footage for the vital 30-second TV spots that will be seen by hundreds of thousands – provided there is money to buy the air time. It is all about the money.

Here’s a link to Open Secrets, a website that keeps track of fundraising by members of Congress — which must be reported. You can look up how much any member has raised and spent. And here is a report from Georgetown University assessing how all that money affects American democracy. Short answer: It’s bad.

 In today’s environment of money-driven politics, the two-year election cycle of the House of Representatives ensures that members will be fundraising continually. It does not establish intimate sympathy with the people.

Discuss

• Think of a person you know who lives in another state who you see no oftener than once every couple of years. Extra points if the last time you saw them, they asked you for money. How well does that person understand your life and concerns? Does your congressional representative understand you as well as that?

• Publius’ main point in these two essays is the two-year term for members of Congress. Do you think two years is the right length? Could changing the length of Congressional terms improve government? Or do the changes need to be made elsewhere?