To the extent that large contributions are given to secure a political quid pro quo from current and potential office holders, the integrity of our system of representative democracy is undermined. Although the scope of such pernicious practices can never be reliably ascertained, the deeply disturbing examples surfacing after the 1972 election demonstrate that the problem is not an illusory one. 

Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S 1, 27.  

This was the magnitude of the conclusion that the Supreme Court drew about the prevalence or appearance of corruption when it upheld the contribution limitations of the Federal Election Campaign Act. The corruption problem was “not… illusory” but its scope could ‘never’ be pinned down.  The Court then cited to the decision of the court below that had offered a few example of pernicious behavior with campaign funds in the 1972 presidential election. That was enough.

In the years following, enough has not proven to be as good as a feast.  And in search of the feast, anyone with a point to make about the campaign finance laws has been pursuing conclusive data to support it.  Corruption, or the absence of corruption, or the different definitions and measures of corruption, have all occasioned argument about the evidence, as has the related but different project of proving the “appearance” of corruption.  Argument about the evidence has yet to be settled and there's every reason to believe that they never will be.

The related but still distinguishable argument about political inequality has meant the same search for clinching proof that policy follows money and makes for a “rigged” system.  This week, the Center for Competitive Politics took after a widely reported paper about the correlation between the aspirations of the wealthy and the manufacture of public policy.  Noting that Rick Hasen and Larry Lessig had made use of the paper in arguing for a political equality theory of regulation, the CCP cited to critics of the scholarship and its conclusions.  In this critical view, which CCP evidently favors, there is substantial agreement across income groups about policy.  So the study that purportedly shows that we have a democracy of the rich cannot survive close scrutiny. CCP suggests that this should bring sharply into question the “lofty solutions” of reformers.

Louisiana is arguing with the help of the indefatigable Jim Bopp that McCain-Feingold cannot limit “federal election activities”, such as GOTV and voter registration, that state and local parties conduct independently, without coordinating with their candidates. Democracy 21, the Campaign Legal Center and Public Citizen reply in a brief filed as amici that this claim is clearly foreclosed by existing precedent: the soft money limits on state parties under McCain-Feingold are contribution limits, not spending limits, and there is no protection gained from claiming to conduct independently the activities paid with these contributions.

The litigating team representing these leading reform organizations is top-notch, and so it is not a surprise in reading their brief that they do a fine job with the materials at hand. But one also sees that there is a problem—not with the advocacy, but with the state of the law.

The Director of New America’s political reform program, Mark Schmitt, continues to ask for a fresh and realistic debate about campaign finance, and this is notable because his reform credentials cannot be questioned and because he states his case well and thoughtfully.  In an op-ed appearing today in The New York Times, he argues, correctly, that the reversal of Citizens United would not be as consequential as some assume. The questions about the role of money in politics would not be settled: in the cause of limiting the role of money and opening up the political process to the widest range of speech (and candidacies), the demise of CU would be a “minor step.”  He argues for the more central importance of other means of accomplishing core reform goals, such as public financing on the model of enactments in New York City and Seattle.

Schmitt does not discount effects, both direct and indirect, of CU, but he points out that it is just one of a long line of decisions limiting Congressional authority to regulate campaign finance, all the way back to Buckley.  In one way or another, the First Amendment unavoidably narrows the path reform can travel.

But this does not mean that that path is so narrow that it is for all practical purposes impassable. One of the lines of attack on CU is that it puts in doubt the constitutional support for any effective campaign finance regulation.  This critique holds that contributions limits—ordinary, regular contribution limits—may be next on the chopping block.  The McCutcheon case is then cited as evidence—at least as a signal—that the end may be near.

Of course, the more dramatic reading of CU, a turn away from Buckley, could turn out be to the case.  A Supreme Court willing to go as far as it did—and farther than it needed to –could well look for other opportunities to bring down the Buckley framework.

On this question, it has been useful to consider Judge Merrick Garland’s record on campaign finance.  He wrote for an en banc Court of Appeals in Wagner v, Federal Election Commission, 793 F.3d 1 (2015), upholding a complete ban on contributions to candidates by individual federal contractors. It is a thorough, scholarly piece of work, and the Court was united behind it.

A Brookings Institution study of state parties, authored by Ray La Raja and Jonathan Rauch, is the latest of the sober commentaries on contemporary campaign finance.  La Raja and Rauch conclude that state parties have lost significant ground to outside groups and are impeded in large part by federal regulation, mostly by McCain-Feingold, in performing critical functions. They would like to see for these state parties increased or eliminated contribution limits, deregulation to enhance their ability to coordinate with candidates and to conduct ticket-wide activities, and perhaps even public financing measures in the form of tax deductible contributions.  The strengthening of state parties, they are convinced, can promote more moderate politics; it can offset to some extent the polarizing forces unleashed by “outside groups.”

It is a thoughtful report and a contribution to the growing consensus that campaign finance laws today are unworkable and in desperate need of reform.  The question is: are state parties, for the reasons given, an appropriately special focus of reform.

As the authors note, there are other reasons for the struggles of state parties and the rise of the outside groups.  Laws and rules may add to the problem but are not its exclusive cause. Much of what La Raja and Rauch say about state parties would apply to the parties as a whole, at the national as well as the state and local level, and there are other actors within the regulated system also clamoring with justification for relief from outdated, burdensome, and pointless regulatory limits.

The case for singling out the state parties rests on La Raja and Rauch’s belief that these organizations are “important nodes of the political equivalent of civil society,” capable of creating “social capital by building connections, trust, and cooperation across diverse individuals and groups.”

This is a strong claim.

One line of argument in the McDonnell case briefing accepts that supporters might expect some preferential treatment—“procedural access,” like a meeting—but not official influence to carry the supporter’s case on the merits.  This is one way that routine politics would be distinguished from corrupt politics.

Professor Jeffrey Bellin, thoughtfully but also passionately, says that this won’t do, and that routine politics, including rewarding supporters with access, ought to be criminalized.  Getting any preferential consideration for money is quid pro quo corruption.  If the Court will establish and hold this line, Professor Bellin argues, it will reduce the significance of money in politics and “the big money will dry up.”

One question is how the Court would fashion a workable rule along these lines.  Without a “per se rule” barring an elected official from ever scheduling meetings with a contributor, or making similar accommodations, the approach Bellin favors would require scrutinizing the motives, often mixed, of politicians.  A politician might schedule a meeting requested by a contributor because she has given, but also because she has something to say that the elected official would like to hear.  Or the politician might even have something to say to the donor—something she, the politician, would like to have understood by the industry or interests that a donor might represent.  The contributor might also have provided other forms of support that the officeholders might wish to recognize—like help on the campaign trail.  It is difficult to say where the raw politics end and the rotten, corrupt kind begin, and no easier to believe that prosecutors and courts are in the best position to judge the question.

But there are additional problems with this emphasis on money. Supporters who deliver votes, endorsements or favorable media commentary are also banking plenty of goodwill with an elected official, and they will also expect that their calls will be returned and that their requests for meetings will be answered affirmatively.  They are being recognized for their political speech (and other actions that are expressive in character). Why would giving money, within the legal limits of the law, be treated as somehow so different that we would deny these speakers comparable treatment, then subject them to the criminal laws if they get it? In what way is money different?