Jim Rubens has lost, but the discussion of Mayday politics will continue. The issues it raises for progressives were raised to a new level of visibility by the news that the PAC was working  with Stark360 , a New Hampshire organization that opposes campaign finance reform and is generally hostile to progressive objectives.  Professor Lessig replied to critics with a clear and thoughtful defense, denying that he was  “compromising” on fundamental commitments.  He was not, he stressed, collaborating with Stark360 on anything on other than the election of Jim Rubens, and it was a strength, not a weakness, to join with adversaries in the search for “common ground.”

But it seems that this reply confuses the issue.  That Professor Lessig means  to advance the cause of reform, and that his joint venture with Stark 360 was launched (on his part) for that purpose alone, is not to be doubted. As in all matters political, however, the means chosen have consequences, and Professor Lessig underestimates the burden he carries to establish for progressives that the means are well fitted to his ends. In this case, in New Hampshire, he has yet to make the case.

Walter Shapiro and Larry Lessig have argued over whether Lawrence Lessig’s Super PAC, Mayday, is poised to claim success in electing its endorsed candidates.  They correctly assume that this measure—electoral impact—may dominate discussion of how well the PAC  performs.  But it is not the only measure. For progressives, who make up the natural constituency for the Mayday reform program, there is the additional question of whether, considering carefully the PAC’s strategy, they should welcome any success it achieves. It is a question of the type of politics represented by Mayday.

Exploiting the political process for personal gain will not be tolerated, and we will continue to pursue those who commit such illegal actions

 Acting Assistant Director in Charge of FBI Field Office, on the Sorenson Indictment

Mr. Kent Sorenson was indicted and now has pled guilty in a matter involving falsified campaign finance reports. One campaign paid him to switch his support from another, and the compensation was routed through other vendors to the campaign to conceal money paid for his changed candidate preference. His guilty plea covers the federal reporting violation and the obstruction of justice committed when he denied publicly that he had been paid for his switch in allegiance and asserted that anybody who doubted him could simply consult the campaign’s reports where they would not find any such compensation.

As a straightforward reporting offense, Mr. Sorenson's case is of limited interest. But another question, presented squarely by the comments of the senior FBI official, is whether the criminal laws reach compensated political endorsements that are openly disclosed. Is it true, as this official suggests, that it is a crime to "exploit the political process for personal gain” in this way? Or that it should be?

The views of the Perry prosecution have sorted out quickly into a majority sharply questioning its merit, and a minority insisting that judgment be reserved until the facts are known.  The prosecutor has not been heard from, other than via a two-page indictment short on detail and his avowal that the case involved a non-partisan application of the law to the facts.

If there can be said to be an “establishment” response to the Perry indictment, it has been loudly expressed so far in his favor. This is understandable: a case about a veto, or the threat of a veto, built on a vaguely worded statute and poorly illuminated by a two-page, summary indictment, was bound to raise questions.

But Perry has not only been defended against the application of the Texas statute in question, but also more profoundly as a victim of the “criminalization of politics”. Even if the law could be construed to reach the alleged conduct, it is argued, it should not be. Whether the Governor was moving to oust an adversary from office or protecting contributors from an inquiry into state grants, the prosecutor is mistaking hardball politics for corrupt politics. It is one example among others, the critics say, and they point to the failed Edwards prosecution as another instance of the same irresponsible application of the criminal laws.

The “criminalization” of politics is self-evidently undesirable. Then again it is far from sure what the argument against it is meant to cover, that is, the nature of the “politics” that we should worry about criminalizing.